CHAP. VII.

In which Henrietta relates the story of her parents, introductory to her own.

It is no wonder, my dear miss Woodby, that at these early years I am precipitated into distresses and dangers; my very birth was a misfortune to my parents, and intailed upon them those miseries which began by their unhappy passion.

“My father was the youngest of three brothers, but so great a favourite of his father the earl of——, that it was thought he would make his fortune very considerable, having a very large estate, and a very lucrative employment, out of which he every year laid by large sums to provide for his younger sons, of whom my father, as I have already said, was the best beloved.

“It happened one day, that the widow of an officer in the army came to solicit the earl’s interest towards getting her a pension. She was accompanied by her daughter, a young woman about sixteen years of age, and who must at that time have been exquisitely handsome, since, after a long series of troubles, and in an age more advanced, she appeared to me one of the most beautiful women in the world.

“The widow, by a certain method of persuasion which operates powerfully on the domesticks of men in place, got her petition sent up to the earl. It imported that her husband, after having served near fifty years in the army, had obtained leave to sell his commission10 for the benefit of his wife and child; that the money arising from it had been deposited in the hands of an agent who had broke a few months afterwards, by which unhappy accident all the money was lost, and this loss had so greatly affected the old gentleman, that he died a few weeks afterwards, leaving his wife and child wholly unprovided for, and made wretched by those very means that were calculated to secure them a genteel subsistence; since by the sale of her husband’s commission, the widow was no longer intitled to a pension, which however she hoped to obtain, in consideration of his long services, and the peculiar circumstances of her misfortune.

“The widow, who knew it was in this nobleman’s power to put her immediately upon the list of pensions, conceived great hopes of the success of her application, when, after waiting two hours in the hall, she was ordered to attend his lordship in his library.

“The nobleman received her with civility enough; but his first words destroyed those expectations with which she had flattered herself.

“I am sorry it is not in my power to do you any service, said he; your husband sold out, therefore you have no right to the pension. I pity your misfortune; but in this case there is nothing to be done.

“The widow was a woman of sense and breeding: she was sensible that the earl paid no regard to her plea, otherwise he would not have urged that as an argument against granting her petition, without which no petition would have been necessary: intreaties she found would be fruitless, therefore she would not descend to the meanness of a suppliant, but curtsy’d in silent anguish, and withdrew.

“The earl’s youngest son, who was present at this scene, and who had beheld the decent sorrow of the mother with reverence, the innocent beauty of the daughter with tender admiration, impelled by an emotion which yet he knew not the cause of, hastily followed them, and offered his hand to the widow to lead her down stairs.

“She, who from a natural dignity of sentiment, had been enabled to endure the supercilious behaviour of the father without betraying any signs of discomposure, burst into tears at this instance of unexpected attention and respect in the son.

“Mr. Courteney, as he led her down stairs, had his eyes incessantly turned towards the young lady, who followed blushing, to see herself so earnestly beheld. He found they had not a coach waiting for them, he ordered a servant to call one; and in the mean time desired they would walk into a parlour, where he took occasion to express his concern to the widow for the disappointment she had met with; but assured her, that he would employ his good offices in her favour, and from the influence he had over his father; he said he hoped he should succeed. He then desired to know where he might wait upon her, in case he had any good news to bring her.

“The widow, charmed with his politeness, astonished at his kindness, and full of hope and pleasing expectation, gave him a direction in writing, which she had brought with her.

“Mr. Courteney received it, bowing low, as if she had conferred a favour on him; a favour it was indeed, for, by this time, he was lost in love for the charming daughter, whose looks discovered such soft sensibility of her situation, such conscious dignity, which misfortune could not impair; such calm resignation, as if, superior to her woes, that her beauty seemed her least perfection; and he was more captivated by the graces of her mind that shone out in her person, than with her lovely person itself.

“The coach was now come; he sighed when he took leave of them, rivetting his eyes on the young charmer, who modestly looked down, unable to bear his ardent glances. Again he assured the widow of his services; and, suddenly recollecting himself, he put a purse into her hand, begging her to accept that trifle as an earnest of his friendship.

“The lady was so much surprised at his behaviour, that she was at a loss in what manner to answer him; and, before she could form any, she found herself in the coach, to which he had accompanied her with great respect. When the coach drove from the door, she examined the contents of the purse, and found five and twenty guineas in it: a present, which, if it had been less, would have mortified her pride, and being so considerable, alarmed her prudence. She recollected every circumstance of the young gentleman’s behaviour, and all contributed to persuade her, that he was actuated by some motive more forcible than meer compassion.

“She remembered that she had caught him gazing earnestly at her daughter; she reproached herself for taking her with her, for accepting the money, for giving a direction. She dreaded the consequence of having exposed her child to the attempts of a young man formed to please, and by his rank and fortune enabled to pursue every method that could gratify his passions. She began now to be solicitous about the effect such uncommon generosity had on the mind of her daughter. She asked her what she thought of the gentleman, who so kindly interested himself in their affairs, notwithstanding the cruel denial his father had given?

“Miss, whose gratitude had with difficulty been restrained from rising from her heart to her tongue, eagerly seized this opportunity to praise their benefactor. Her expressions were so lively, she showed so tender a sensibility of his kindness, such a blushing approbation of his person and manners, that the good widow thought proper to check her vivacity by a little reproof, and attributed all the respect he had shown them to his natural politeness, and his offers of service, and the present he had forced on her, to a sudden sally of compassion which young unexperienced persons are liable to. However, her apprehensions were now increased; and when Mr. Courteney came to see her, in consequence of his promise, which was two days afterwards, she had already taken her resolution.

“She took care that her daughter should not be in the way when he sent up his name; and notwithstanding the politeness with which he accosted her, she observed that he was disappointed, and that his eyes involuntarily sought out an object which he more wished to see than her.

“I don’t know whether these little particulars may not seem tedious to you, my dear miss Woodby; but I have often heard my mother repeat them with delight; declaring that these first tokens of my father’s affection for her made so deep an impression on her heart, fluctuating, as it then was, between hope and fear, that she ever retained the most lively remembrance of them, and could never relate them without feeling in some degree the same pleasing emotions with which she was at that time agitated.

“Mr. Courteney began the conversation with assuring the widow, that he had been mindful of her affairs; that his solicitations had not yet indeed had the desired effect; but that he hoped shortly to bring her better news. The widow thanked him with great politeness, for his kind interposition in her favour, which she declared would always have a claim to her sincerest gratitude, whether he succeeded or not in his applications. She then drew the purse out of her pocket, and putting it respectfully into his hands, told him, that not being in any immediate necessity, she begged he would not take it ill if she declined accepting a present which would lay her under an unreturnable obligation.

“Mr. Courteney blushed with surprize and disappointment—but the dignity with which she looked and spoke, making it impossible for him to press her any farther, he received the money back again with a low bow, apologizing at the same time for the liberty he had taken.

“The widow, seeing him disconcerted, politely recommended her interests to him; and Mr. Courteney, charmed that she would allow him to be her friend on any terms, retired with a promise that he would take as much care of them as of his own.

“This interview,” continued Henrietta, “confirmed the widow in her suspicions, that her daughter was not indifferent to their new benefactor—he had observed her scrupulous reserve with regard to the young beauty, and hoped to remove it by affecting a total neglect of her; so that he did not even enquire how she did.—Whatever is done with design is always overdone: the widow was persuaded that a man of Mr. Courteney’s good breeding would not have passed over one of the common forms of politeness, but to answer some secret purpose. Her vigilance increased in proportion to her fears; and although he made her several visits, under pretence of enquiring more minutely into the circumstances of her case, yet he never was so fortunate as to find her daughter with her.

“This conduct, while it stimulated his passion, gave him a high opinion of the virtue and prudence of her, who, in such unhappy circumstances, showed such extreme attention to the honour and reputation of her child. Hitherto he had not been at the trouble to examine his own views and designs upon this young beauty. Hurried away by the violence of his passion, he had assiduously sought opportunities of seeing and conversing with her; but the difficulties he met with made him look into his own heart, that he might know if he was still sufficient master of it to give over a pursuit which was likely to prove fruitless.

“Amazed to find that what he took for a transient inclination, was a passion immoveably fixed; that he had formed resolutions, when he believed he had only entertained desires; that the whole happiness and misery of his life was in the power of a young woman, destitute of friends, fortune, hopes, and expectations, and rich only in beauty and virtue—for virtuous he was sure she must be, under the care of so wise and prudent a mother. He was alarmed at his own condition; dreaded the consequences of a passion so placed as that it could never procure the sanction of his father’s consent, and resolved to expose himself no more to the danger of seeing her.

“However, he did not fail to solicit his father very earnestly in behalf of the unfortunate widow. The earl, who had taken notice of his officious respect the day she was introduced to him, and attributed it rather to the beauty of the daughter than any sentiment of compassion, began to be uneasy at his so frequently pressing him on that subject, and forbad him to mention it any more.

“Mr. Courteney was obliged to be silent, lest he should confirm those suspicions which he saw his father had conceived; and finding his mind in a very uneasy state, he hoped that, by removing himself to a greater distance from the object he loved, he should remove the thoughts of her likewise; he obtained his father’s consent to his retiring for a few weeks to their seat in the country, under pretence of a slight indisposition; but he could not resolve to go without endeavouring once more to force a present upon the widow, which might prevent her being exposed to any distress during his absence.

“He therefore wrote to her, and acquainting her with the ill success of his mediation with his father, expressed the highest concern for it, and assured her that nothing could alleviate it but her acceptance of the bank note which he inclosed, and which was for fifty pounds: he told her, he was going into the country, that she might not suppose he had any design of inducing her by such a present to admit his visits; and concluded with assuring her, that she might at all times command his services, and rely on his friendship.

“He did not send away this letter till he was ready to take horse; and being now more composed, from the belief that he had silenced the scruples of this good woman, and secured her and her lovely daughter from any immediate necessity, he pursued his journey—full of pleasing reflections on the disinterestedness of his love.”