Which illustrates an observation of Rochefoucault’s, that in the misfortunes of our friends there is always something that does not displease us.2
I protest, my dearest Clelia,” said the lady, your fears are very natural upon this occasion. I should in your situation be almost distracted. Even our parents’ watchful cares are hardly sufficient to guard us against the attempts of insolent men: how much more then are those attempts to be dreaded, when we are left defenceless and exposed. Believe me, my dear, I sympathize truly with you in this misfortune. Good Heaven! I think I should die with apprehension were I in your case.”
“Don’t terrify me,” said miss Courteney, trembling. “I have taken an imprudent step, but I must make the best of it now: Providence, I hope, will be my guard.”
“I would not terrify you, my dear,” said the lady; “but I must repeat, that were I in your case, I think my fears would distract me. Thank Heaven! I am protected by watchful parents, cautious relations, and prudent friends; yet hardly thus can I think myself secure from these enterprising wretches the men.”
This young lady had indeed a stronger protector than all these, which she did not mention, or perhaps was insensible of; and that was the extreme disagreeableness of her whole person. Her features, it is true, could not be called irregular, because few faces were ever distinguished with a set more uniformly bad. Her complexion, which was a composition of green and yellow, was marvellously well suited to her features. Nor was it possible to make any invidious comparisons between her face and her shape, since it was hard to decide which was worse.
Miss Courteney, who had burst into tears, occasioned by her reflections on her own helpless situation, compared with the advantages her friend enjoyed, and which she had so ostentatiously enumerated, was upon the point of soliciting her advice again; when the lady joyfully exclaimed, “Oh! there is my aunt’s house, my dear Clelia, we must part immediately.”
“Sure,” said Henrietta, sighing, “you will not leave me till you have advised me what to do.”
“Lord! my dear,” said the other, “one young creature is not qualified to give another advice upon such occasions. I wish it was in my power to give you proper advice; you know I have vowed to you an inviolable friendship. And,”—
Here the coachman, as he had been directed, stopped before a large handsome house; and a well-dressed footman immediately appearing, came forwards to open the coachdoor.
“Hear me one word,” cried miss Courteney, perceiving this tender friend was actually going to leave her without any farther solicitude for her safety—“upon the strength of that inviolable friendship you have vowed to me, I will venture to ask a favour of you: it is, pursued she, that you will recommend me to some person of your acquaintance in London, who may direct me to a decent house, where I can remain in safety till my brother’s arrival.”
“I vow this is a lucky thought,” said the lady; “I believe I can serve you, my dear Clelia; but you must step in with me to my aunt’s. John,” said she to the servant, “is my aunt at home.” The man told her his lady was just gone to take an airing.
“That’s well” said the lady, “we shall have an opportunity to settle this matter: but, my dear Clelia, I think it will be best to discharge the coach, the fellow possibly will not wait. I’ll send my aunt’s servant to take a place for you in the Hammersmith stage, which I know does not set out this half hour.”
Henrietta readily complied, overjoyed that she had really found a sincere friend in the person of this whimsical lady; who, having led her into a large well-furnished parlour, ordered some tea to be brought, and then told her, that she would give her a letter to her millener, who was a very good sort of a woman, and where she might depend upon being absolutely safe.
“When I was last in town,” pursued she, “which was about three weeks ago, her first floor was empty; and in this season of the year, I believe she will let it to you for two guineas3 a week.”
“A single room will do for me,” said miss Courteney; “my circumstances do not entitle me to magnificent lodgings, and my business is to keep myself private.”
“Well, well, my dear, be that as you please.” said the other; “I will write the letter without mentioning what lodgings you require.” Saying this, she called for pens and paper; and having wrote the following billet, gave it to miss Courteney for her perusal.
Dear Mrs. EGRET,
THE lady who will deliver you this, is one for whom I have the most violent friendship imaginable. You know how ardent my friendships are; but I think I never had any so firmly rooted as this, though our acquaintance commenced but a few hours ago. This dear friend having desired me to recommend her to some person to lodge with, I thought of you, knowing you can accommodate her with genteel apartments. I am, dear Mrs. Egret,
Your humble servant,
E. WOODBY.
Henrietta having read the letter, returned it again into the hands of her friend, gratefully acknowledging the favour, although she had some objections to it; for she did not approve of the words genteel apartments, being resolved not to exceed a very moderate price: but she rightly conceived that miss Woodby rather listened to her own pride than her conveniency, by throwing in that circumstance, and therefore took no notice of it.
The letter being sealed and directed, miss Courteney carefully deposited it in her pocket, and the two ladies were preparing to drink their tea, when the footman entered, and said the stage-coach was just going off: our fair traveller instantly rose up, and took leave of her friend, who having prevailed upon her to drink a glass of sack4 and water, since she was disappointed of her tea, parted from her with an affectionate embrace, and a promise that she would see her in town very shortly.
Miss Courteney finding only one passenger in the coach, who was a grave elderly woman, she resumed her journey with some kind of chearfulness, having thus happily got over her apprehensions of falling into bad company, where chance might have directed her to lodge.