In which the history goes forward.
Henrietta was waiting impatiently for the coach, when the young nobleman entered the room; “You are going then, miss?” said he sighing, “I waited at home all this morning for an opportunity of seeing you, that I might recommend such a resolution, as I find your prudence has suggested to you. Mrs. Eccles is not a proper woman for you to lodge with, and this I believe her behaviour to-day has convinced you of; had she not made the discovery to you herself, I should have done it, partly to repair the affront I have been so unhappy to offer you, and partly to secure you against the like, by letting you know that you are in the house of a woman of doubtful character.”
This language bore the marks of so much prudence and sincerity, that Henrietta could not help being affected with it; and accordingly she expressed a grateful sense of his concern for her.
“I have something else to say to you,” said he, “which possibly will surprise you more; but it is necessary you should know it, to avoid further inconveniencies, by a misplaced confidence: it was your friend miss Woodby that informed me of your true name and circumstances. I see you are shocked; she has indeed betrayed you, but less from malice I believe than folly. I am master of your secret miss Courteney,” said he, speaking lower, and taking her hand; “but you may depend upon it, I shall make no other use of it, but to serve you in whatever way you shall direct; command my utmost services; dearest creature, dispose of me, my life, and fortune: never did I feel a real passion for any of your sex before.”
“My lord,” interrupted miss Courteney, concerned to find him again upon this strain, which destroyed the hope of his disinterestedness; “since you know my situation, you must also know that such discourse is extremely embarrassing to me. I am at present under the displeasure of my friends, without whose consent I will never admit of an address of this kind.” She looked at him here; and observing him in some confusion, for indeed his intentions were not of that sort that could be communicated to her friends, she blushed at the humiliating idea that apparent confusion raised in her mind; but recovering herself,
“I am contented (said she) that your lordship should know my name, since chance has ordered it so, and I depend upon your honour not to mention me. I must also acknowledge myself obliged to you for the discovery you have made of miss Woodby’s treachery; it is a very useful discovery, for otherwise I should still have confided in her, and been again betrayed.” His lordship was going to reply with great eagerness, when the maid came in, and informed miss Courteney, that a coach was at the door.
“You are going then?” said he, with a melancholy look; but, ’ere he could proceed, Mrs. Eccles entered, and, with a countenance and voice altered to great obsequiousness, told Henrietta, that the gentleman who had been there yesterday, enquired for her. “O how lucky is this!” exclaimed miss Courteney: “let him be shewn up stairs, I’ll wait on him.” The millener having withdrawn, the young lord catched hold of Henrietta’s hand as she was leaving the room,
“And can you be so cruel (said he) to quit me thus without giving me the least hope?” “Pray, my lord,” said miss Courteney, drawing her hand from him with an air disdainful enough, “no more of this idle gallantry.”
“Who is this gentleman that enquires for you?” said he, with a beseeching air.
“My lord,” replied miss Courteney, “the gentleman is my friend.” “Say rather your lover,” said he: “oh! what joy you discovered when you heard he was come.” “I had reason for being rejoiced, (interrupted she) he is my guardian, who has the care of my affairs.” “Your guardian (repeated his lordship) may I not know his name?”
“He is the guardian of my person rather than my fortune,” said Henrietta; “the poor trifle that I can call my own, does not deserve the name of fortune—It is my unhappiness,” added she, sighing, “to be in a situation that exposes me to unworthy suspicions, and subjects me to humiliating explanations. You know my name, my lord, therefore you may know the name of the person, under whose protection I shall be for the future; Mr. Damer is my guardian, he is a considerable merchant in the city.”
“Enough,” cried the lover, kissing her hand in a rapture, while she was struggling to be gone from him, “I know him—Say only,” pursued he, still endeavouring to detain her, “that you will permit me to see you again.” “Excuse me, my lord,” said Henrietta, breaking from him, “I cannot grant your request; tho’ I must repeat the one I made to you, take no notice of your having met with me, and suffer me to be obliged to you for your secrecy.”
“O! doubt me not,” said he, following her to the stairs, and taking a passionate leave of her with his eyes, “I will obey you.”
Henrietta answered no otherwise than by a courtesey, and hastened up to Mr. Damer, wondering at this unexpected visit, and indulging a flattering hope that his father was returned.
Mr. Damer met her as she entered the room, and, bowing more gravely than usual, told her, that he was afraid he kept her at home, being informed by her landlady that she was just going out.
“I was going out,” said miss Courteney, “but it was to you.” “Were you!” replied he, with a smile of pleasure that beamed over his countenance, “have you any new commands for me? I am glad I came so seasonably.”
“But tell me, sir,” said miss Courteney, “is my worthy guardian come back; have you any news for me? this visit was unexpected.”
The young merchant was a little disconcerted at this question; for he had reasons which he did not care to own for visiting her so soon again: he had a glimpse of the young lord, as he passed by the parlour the day before; he saw him come out of the house; observed that he followed him, and looked at him with an inquisitive eye—He began to suspect that this gay gentleman had some design upon miss Courteney, and that she might have an inclination for him. He therefore resolved to take her immediately out of his way, and had already secured to her a safe retreat.
“I wish (said he) that I had any better news to bring you, than that I have provided you a lodging with the wife of one of my father’s factors;32 she is a sensible woman, and will treat you with great respect—I am persuaded my father will be pleased to find you there.” “And I am ready,” said Henrietta, eagerly, “to go immediately; for my intended visit to you to-day was to press you to find some suitable lodging for me—I don’t know the person with whom I am at present; and she has no woman-lodger in the house but myself.”
“You have a great deal of prudence, miss,” said Mr. Damer, who was indeed excessively pleased to find her so desirous of going; “I fancy you can soon settle with your landlady; and we will make use of that hackney coach which stands at the door, and which you sent for, it seems.” “I have settled already with her,” said miss Courteney, “and this small parcel you see will be all my luggage, except the money you paid me yesterday,” added she smiling, and unlocking her desk to take it out.
Mr. Damer very politely took up her little parcel, and carried it down stairs. Mean time miss Courteney was so much mistress of her resentment as to take a civil leave of Mrs. Eccles; and Mr. Damer, who was waiting for her at the door, handed her into the coach, and came in himself, after he had given the man directions where to drive.
The young nobleman, who was standing at one of his windows, saw her depart with great uneasiness. She was now in the hands of her guardian, and consequently his approaches would be more difficult; but youth and fortune think every thing attainable. His passion for Henrietta was violent enough to make him run all hazards to obtain her on any terms but marriage. Nothing is more easy than for love to conquer reason; its greatest triumph is when it is victorious over interest. The earl of——, father to this young lord, was negotiating a match for him with a young woman of very great fortune, the daughter of an eminent packer33 in the city. The noble youth, stimulated by forty thousand pounds, had pleaded his passion with such success, that the lady preferred him to all his titled rivals, and he had a great many, from the baronet up to the duke. The honest packer, sacrificing his ambition to his daughter’s inclinations, chose rather to let her follow her taste and be only a countess, than become father-in-law to a duke by crossing it: an admirable instance of humility it must be confessed, and scarce to be equalled but by that of the nobleman, who, with such generous contempt of hereditary honours, solicited his alliance; but, happily for the reformation of manners, such instances are not now very rare.
This marriage therefore being in great forwardness, it behoved the young lord to be cautious in prosecuting his scheme upon miss Courteney. He was convinced she was virtuous; and that the only way to undermine that virtue was to make himself sure of her heart, before he discovered that his repentance was but feigned, and his intentions not honourable; when the passion she had for him would excuse, if not justify, an attempt that passion forced him to make; firmly depending on the poet’s maxim, that, the faults of love by love are justified.34
The great point was to bring her to admit of his addresses without the knowledge of her friends, for which he could urge reasons sufficient; and when that point was gained, he might securely reckon upon success: for a young woman who engages in a private correspondence of that kind, deprives herself of the suggestions of prudence, the caution of experience, the counsels of wisdom, and the restraint of authority; her whole conduct is then influenced by the passion with which she is actuated, which is at once her impulse and her guide.
Our lover, having given some sighs to the departure of his mistress, comforted himself in the hope of seeing her soon, with more advantage, since he had in some degree secured her confidence by the disinterested advice he had given her with regard to Mrs. Eccles; and having now no farther occasion for the apartment he had hired in that house, he quitted it immediately, not without discovering in his behaviour to her at parting some part of that contempt, which even the greatest libertines feel for such as assist their criminal designs.
Mean time Henrietta, extremely pleased with the care and attention of her new guardian, was by him conducted to a large well-furnished house in the city, and received with great respect by the mistress of it, who was a middle-aged woman, with a benevolent aspect and an easy agreeable behaviour.
“Mrs. Willis,” said Mr. Damer, leading in miss Courteney, “permit me to introduce you to this young lady, my father’s ward, and at present under my care: I hope you will make every thing agreeable to her during the time she stays with you. Miss Benson (added he) I need not give Mrs. Willis any other recommendation to you, than that she is a friend of my father’s, and very much esteemed by him.”
Henrietta, though in some confusion at being introduced under a feigned name to a friend of Mr. Darner’s, saluted her with a graceful air, and replied to the compliments she made her with great politeness; but took the first opportunity of her withdrawing, to ask Mr. Damer, why he concealed her true name from a friend of his father’s?
Mr. Damer asked her pardon for not having consulted her before on that subject; but said, that by still continuing the name of Benson, she would be more secure from the search her aunt might make for her.
“Alas! sir,” said miss Courteney, “I am afraid my aunt is too much offended to be at any pains to find me out—I am more apprehensive of the contrivances of Mr. Danvers; he no doubt has strong reasons for putting her upon such harsh measures. While I was alone and unprotected, I thought it necessary to conceal myself, since it was not impossible but I might have been forced away; but I am sure no such attempt will be made, when it is known that I am under my guardian’s protection. I think therefore this gentlewoman ought to be aquainted with my name. I would avoid as much as possible the appearance of mystery. I shall never recollect, without pain, the sad necessity that has reduced me to it.”
“It will not be prudent,” said Mr. Damer, “to alter our measures now: I have called you miss Benson; the discovery of your true name will come with more propriety from my father, when he has accommodated matters between your aunt and you: we may expect a letter from him in a day or two, in which he will probably fix the time of his return. In the mean while I hope you will find yourself agreeably situated here—I have agreed for your board and lodging.”
“At a moderate price, I hope,” said miss Courteney, “my circumstances do not entitle me to great expence.” “I have taken care of that,” said Mr. Damer. Mrs. Willis coming in that moment, he recommended miss Courteney to her care, promising, when he heard from his father, to come immediately with the news. He then took his leave, and Mrs. Willis conducted her fair lodger to another parlour, where the cloth was laid for dinner, and introduced two pretty children to her, a boy and a girl, with whom the young lady was extremely pleased.
There was in the countenance of this woman so much sweetness and complacency, and such an unaffected politeness in her behaviour, that Henrietta found herself insensibly disposed to like her, and was pleased to hear her fall naturally into an account of herself with a frankness and simplicity that denoted the goodness of her heart.
From what she said, miss Courteney collected that she had made a marriage of choice rather than of prudence, and that industry had supplied the place of fortune. She found she was under great obligations to the elder Mr. Damer, who had settled her husband in an advantageous way at Leghorn, where he acted as his factor, and had enabled her to furnish that large house, in a very genteel manner, for the reception of such merchants as came from abroad, and were by him recommended to lodge with her. Her extreme tenderness for her husband, which had hurried her to Leghorn upon hearing that he was ill, that she might have the satisfaction of attending him herself, and her anxiety for her children, which brought her back as soon as he was recovered, that she might re-assume her care of them, were qualities which won her the esteem of miss Courteney. She marked with what becoming reserve she slightly touched upon her family and connections, which were very genteel, and by which Henrietta accounted for the easy politeness of her manners and behaviour, so seldom found in persons of her rank.
The young lady then turned the discourse upon her guardian’s son, whose character she was desirous of being acquainted with. Mrs. Willis told her, that he was a sober diligent young man, and though the heir of immense riches, yet applied himself to business with as much industry as if he had had his fortune to make: that he had for several years transacted his father’s business in Holland, from whence he was but lately returned; and that he traded largely for himself.
“Before I went to Leghorn (added she) there was some talk of his being to be married to the daughter of a very rich citizen; but since my return, which was about a week ago, I have heard nothing of it, not having seen Mr. Damer till the day that he came to tell me I should be so happy as to have you, madam, for my lodger.”
Miss Courteney having passed this day more agreeably than she had done any since she had left her aunt, was at night conducted by Mrs. Willis to a genteel apartment, consisting of a bed-chamber and dressing-room. She dismissed the maid whom Mrs. Willis ordered to attend and undress her; and being greatly fatigued for want of rest the preceding night, lost all her cares, her anxieties, and resentments, in the sweet oblivion of a calm and uninterrupted sleep.