The History of Sir Charles Grandison, Volume 4 (of 7)

Major, said my guardian, when he presented me to him, you must excuse the dear child's weakness of spirits: she wishes you all happiness on your nuptials: she has let me know, that she is very desirous to do you service for her mother's sake.

The major swore by his soul, I was an angel!—Captain Salmonet said, that, by his salvation, I was a charming young lady!

My mother wept—O, Sir! said she to my guardian: and dropping down in a chair by the window, not a word more could she speak.

I ran to her, and clasped my arms about her. She wept the more: I wiped her eyes with her own handkerchief: I told her, it went to my heart to see her cry: I begged she would spare me this grief.

She clasped her arms then about me, and kissed my cheek, and my forehead.

O, thought I, it is very good of you, my dear mother.

Then came my guardian to us, and he kindly took my mother's hand, and conducted her to the fire-side; and he led me, and placed me by her, at the tea-table; and he made the major and the captain sit down by him: so much graciousness in his countenance. O, madam! I shall be an idolater, I am afraid. And he said, Emily, my dear, you will make tea for us. My sister dined abroad, madam, to my mother.—Yes, sir, I will, said I: and I was as lively as a bird.

But before the servants came in, Let me tell you, madam, said he, what Miss Jervois has proposed to me.—They were in silent expectation.

She has desired that you, major, will accept from her, for your mutual use, of an additional 100£. a year; which I shall order to be paid you quarterly, during Mrs. O'Hara's life, not doubting but you will make her as happy as it is in your power to make her.

My mother bowed, coloured with gratitude, and looked obliged.

And she begs of you, madam, turning to my mother, that you will accept, as from the Major, another 100£. a year, for pin-money, which he, or which you, madam, will draw upon me for; also quarterly, if you choose not to trouble him to do it: for this 100£. a year must be appropriated to your sole and separate use, madam; and not be subject to your controul, Major O'Hara.

Good God! sir! said the Major!—What a wretch was I, the last time I was here!—There is no bearing of this!

He got up, and went to the window: and the captain said, Blessed Jesu! and something else, which I could not mind; for I was weeping like a baby.

What, sir! said my mother, 400£. a year! Do you mean so?—I do, madam— And, sir, to be so generously paid me my 100£. of it, as if I received it not from my child, but from my husband!—Good God! How you overpower me, sir! What shame, what remorse, do you strike into my heart!

And my poor mother's tears ran down as fast as mine.

O madam, said the dear girl to me, clasping her arms about me, how your tender heart is touched!—It is well you were not there!

Dr. Bartlett came in to tea. My guardian would not permit Antony, who offered himself, to wait. Antony had been my own papa's servant, when my mother was not so good.

Nothing but blessings, nothing but looks and words of admiration and gratitude, passed all the tea-time. How their hearts rejoiced, I warrant!—Is it not a charming thing, madam, to make people's hearts glad?—To be sure it is! How many hearts has my guardian rejoiced! You must bid him be cross to me, or I shall not know what to do with myself! —But then, if he was, I should only get by myself, and cry, and be angry with myself, and think he could not be to blame.

O my love, my Emily! said I, take care of your gratitude: that drew in your true friend.

Well, but how can it be helped, madam? Can a right heart be ungrateful? —Dr. Bartlett says, There is no such thing as true happiness in this life: and is it not better to be unhappy from good men and women, than from bad?—Dear madam, why you have often made me unhappy, because of your goodness to me; and because I knew, that I neither could deserve nor return it.

The dear prater went on—My guardian called me aside, when tea was over. My Emily, said he, [I do love he should call me his Emily!—But all the world is his Emily, I think,] Let me see what you will do with these two notes; giving me two bank-notes of 25£. each.—Present pin-money and cash may be wanted. We will suppose that your mother has been married a quarter of a year. Her pin-money and the additional annuity may commence from the 25th of December last. Let me, Emily, when they go away, see the graceful manner in which you will dispose of the notes: and from Mr. O'Hara's behaviour upon it, we shall observe whether he is a man with whom your mother, if it be not her own fault, (now you have made it their interest to be kind to each other,) may live well: but the motion be all your own.

How good this was! I could have kissed the hand that gave me the notes, if I thought it would not have looked too free.

I understand you, sir, said I.

And when they went away, pouring out their very hearts in grateful joy, I addressed myself to Mr. O'Hara. Sir, said I, it is proper that the payment of the additional annuity should have a commencement. Let it be from Christmas last. Accept of the first payment from my own hands—And I gave him one 25£. note: and looking at my mother, with a look of duty, for fear be should mistake, and discredit himself in the eyes of the deepest discerner in the world, gave him the other.

He looked upon first one, then upon the other note with surprise—And then bowing to the ground to me, and to my guardian, he stept to my mother, and presented them both to her. You, madam, said he, must speak: I cannot as I ought: God send me with a whole heart out of this house! He hurried out, and when he was in the hall, wiped his eyes, and sobbed like a child, as one of the servants told my Anne.

My mother looked upon one note as her husband had done, and upon the other; and, lifting up her eyes, embraced me—And would have said something to my guardian, but he prevented her, by saying—Emily will be always dutiful to you, madam, and respectful to Mr. O'Hara: may you be happy together!

And he led her out—Was ever such a condescension! He led her out to her husband, who, being a little recovered, was just about to give some money to the servant, who was retiring from the offer.—Nobody, said my guardian, graciously smiling, pays my servants but myself, Mr. O'Hara. They are good people, and merit my favour.

And he went to the very door with my mother. I could not. I ran back, crying for joy, into the drawing-room, when they went out of it. I could not bear myself. How could I, you know, madam?—Captain Salmonet all the time wiped his eyes, shrugged his shoulders, lifted up his hands, and cried out upon Jesu; and once or twice he crossed himself: but all the time my guardian looked and acted, as if those actions and praises were nothing to be proud of.

When he came in to me, I arose, and threw myself at his feet; but could only say, Thank you, sir, for your goodness to my mother. He raised me. He sat down by me: See, child, (said he, and he took my hand: my heart was sensible of the favour, and throbbed with joy,) what it is in the power of people of fortune to do. You have a great one. Now your mother is married, I have hopes of her. They will at least keep up appearances to each other, and to the world. They neither of them want sense. You have done an act of duty and benevolence both in one. The man who would grudge them this additional 200£. a year out of your fortune, to make your parent happy, shall not have my Emily—Shall he?

Your Emily, your happy Emily, sir, has not, cannot have a heart that is worth notice, if it be not implicitly guided by you.—This I said, madam: and it is true.

And did he not, said I, clasp his Emily to his generous bosom, when you said so?

No, madam; that would have been too great an honour: but he called me, good child! and said, you shall never be put to pay me an implicit regard: your own reason (and he called me child again) shall always be the judge of my conduct to you, and direct your observances of my advice. Something like this he said; but in a better manner than I can say it.

He calls me oftener child, madam, than any thing else when we are alone together; and is not quite so free, I think, at such times, in his behaviour to me, (yet is vastly gracious, I don't know how,) as when we are in company—Why is that? I am sure, I equally respect him, at one time as at another—Do you think, madam, there is any thing in the observation? Is there any reason for it?—I do love to study him, and to find out the meaning of his very looks as well as words. Sir Charles Grandison's heart is the book of heaven—May I not study it?

Study it, my love! while you have an opportunity. But he will soon leave us: he will soon leave England.

So I fear: and I will love and pity the poor Clementina, whose heart is so much wounded and oppressed. But my guardian shall be nobody's but yours. I have prayed night and day, the first thing and the last thing, ever since I have heard of Lady Clementina, that you, and nobody but you, may be Lady Grandison: and I will continue my prayers.—But will you forgive me: I always conclude them with praying, that you will both consent to let the poor Emily live with you.

Sweet girl! The poor Emily, said she?—I embraced her, and we mingled tears, both our hearts full, each for the other; and each perhaps for herself.

She hurried away. I resumed my pen.—Run off what had passed, almost as swift as thought. I quit it to prepare to attend my cousins to St. James's-square.

LETTER XIV

MISS BYRON.—IN CONTINUATION WEDNESDAY NIGHT, APRIL 5

Miss Grandison, as I told you, took with her my letter of yesterday. As soon as my cousin Reeves and I entered Sir Charles's house, the two sisters conducted us into the drawing-room adjoining to the dining-parlour, and congratulated me on the high compliment their brother had made me, though in preference to themselves, and his communicativeness and tender behaviour to me. Lord L– joined us, and he, having read the letter, congratulated me also—On what, Lucy?—Why on the possibility, that if the unhappy Clementina should die; or if she should be buried for life in a nunnery; or if she should be otherwise disposed of; why then, that your Harriet may have room given her to hope for a civil husband in Sir Charles Grandison, and half a heart: Is not this the sum of these humbling congratulations?

Sir Charles, when we came, was in his study with Mr. Lowther, the surgeon whom he had engaged to go abroad with him: but he just came out to welcome us; and then returned.—He had also with him two physicians, eminent for their knowledge in disorders of the head, to whom he had before communicated the case of the unhappy Clementina; and who brought to him in writing their opinions of the manner in which she ought to be treated, according to the various symptoms of her disorder.

When he joined us, he told us this; and said very high things at the same time in praise of the English surgeons; and particularly of this gentleman: and added, that as nervous disorders were more frequent in England, than in any country in the world, he was willing to hope, that the English physicians were more skilful than those of any other country in the management of persons afflicted with such maladies: and as he was now invited over, he was determined to furnish himself with all the means he could think of, that were likely to be useful in restoring and healing friends so dear to him.

Miss Grandison told him, that we were all in some apprehensions, on his going to ltaly, of that fierce and wrong-headed man the general. Miss Byron, said she, has told us, that Mrs. Beaumont advises not your going over.

The young Marquis della Porretta, said he, is hasty; but he is a gallant man, and loves his sister. His grief on the unhappy situation they are in demands allowance. It is natural in a heavy calamity to look out of ourselves for the occasion. I have not any apprehensions from him, or from any body else. The call upon me is a proper one. The issue must be left where it ought to be left. If my visit will give comfort to any one of the family, I shall be rewarded: If to more than one, happy—And, whatever be the event, shall be easier in myself, than I could be, were I not to comply with the request of the bishop, were he only to have made it.

Lord L– asked Sir Charles, whether he had fixed the day of his setting out?

I have, said he, within this half hour. Mr. Lowther has told me, that he shall be ready by the beginning of next week; and on Saturday sennight I hope to be at Dover, on my way.

We looked upon one another. Miss Grandison told me afterwards, that my colour went and came several times, and that she was afraid for me. My heart was indeed a little affected. I believe I must not think of taking leave of him when he sets out. Ah, Lucy! Nine days hence!—Yet, in less than nine days after that, I shall be embraced by the tenderest relations that ever creature had to boast of.

Sir Charles taking his sister aside, I want, said he, to say a few words to you, Charlotte. They were about half an hour together; and then returning, I am encouraged to think, said he, that Charlotte will give her hand to Lord G–. She is a woman of honour, and her heart must therefore go with it.—I have a request to make to her, before all you our common friends—The Earl of G–, Lady Gertrude, Lord G–, all join in one suit: it is, that I may be allowed to give my sister to Lord G– before I leave England.

I have told you, brother, that it is impossible, if you go away in nine or ten days time.

Sir Charles particularly requested my influence. I could have no doubt, I said, but Miss Grandison would oblige her brother.