CHAP. XII.

Which concludes the history.

The next day Mr. Courteney informed lady Meadows, that Mr. Damer intended to wait on her, and hinted that he had a match to propose for Henrietta, which he hoped she would approve.

Lady Meadows, who had already taken her resolution with regard to both brother and sister, told him, that she was very desirous of seeing her niece settled; and that she was determined never to oppose her inclinations, being convinced that her virtue and prudence were to be entirely depended upon.

Mr. Damer came according to his appointment, and, being soon after left alone with lady Meadows, he acquainted her with the whole affair between the marquis of —— and Henrietta, as he had received it from Mr. Courteney; and, observing that the old lady was dazzled with the prospect of her niece becoming a dutchess, added, that the want of a suitable fortune should not hinder the advancement of Henrietta: “for whatever you design for her, madam (said he) I will double; so great is my regard for her, and admiration of her virtues.”

Lady Meadows with reason thought this a very generous proposal. She complimented him upon it; and, stepping to her cabinet, took out a box that contained her will, and another deed which had been drawn up, while Mr. Courteney was in the country with the duke of ——, but were not yet executed. She put these papers into Mr. Damer’s hands, and desired him to read them, saying, “you will there see, sir, what I intend to do for my nephew and his sister.”

Mr. Damer opened the first, which was the will. He found she had constituted Mr. Courteney her heir, leaving him her whole estate, charging it only with the sum of five thousand pounds, to be paid his sister on the day of her marriage. The other paper contained a settlement of three hundred pounds a year upon Mr. Courteney during her life.

Mr. Damer, who knew the young gentleman’s sentiments, proposed to lady Meadows to send for him, and acquaint him with her intentions. To this she readily agreed. Mr. Courteney turned pale when he heard the moderate sum designed for his sister; and, after expressing his gratitude to lady Meadows for the favour she shewed him, in terms the most respectful and affectionate, he earnestly conjured her to let Henrietta be at least an equal sharer with him in her kindness. He urged, as a motive to her to comply, the very advantageous match that was proposed to his sister. He expatiated on the marquis’s tender and faithful passion for her; and touched with great delicacy upon the sentiments Henrietta could not avoid entertaining for a young nobleman, who had loved her with honour, even when ignorant of her birth, and when she was under very humiliating circumstances.

Lady Meadows interrupted him with the most flattering praises of his disinterestedness; but declared that her resolution was unalterable. “Your sister will have ten thousand pounds,” said she; “this is no despicable fortune: and since there is so much love on the side of the marquis, there is no doubt but it will be thought sufficient.”

Mr. Damer explained the old lady’s meaning, by telling him what he proposed to do for miss Courteney, and preventing the young gentleman’s acknowledgments: “You have sufficiently shewn your regard for your sister (said he) and I am of opinion we ought not to press lady Meadows any more on this subject; she has acted nobly by you both.”

The lady was extremely flattered by the praise Mr. Damer gave her; and, to prevent any more solicitations from her nephew, she signed the papers immediately, which Mr. Damer, at her request, witnessed.

Mr. Courteney said every thing that gratitude and politeness could suggest, upon her presenting him the settlement; yet there was an air of concern upon his countenance, which Mr. Damer observing, took an opportunity to desire him, in a whisper, to meet him at a coffee-house (which he named to him) that evening, having something to say to him, which he hoped would make all things easy.

Mr. Courteney promised to attend him. He then begged lady Meadows not to let Henrietta know what had passed with regard to the marquis. “At present (said he) she considers this marriage as impossible to be effected, and so I would have her consider it, till I am sure that the duke will make no objection to the fortune that is designed her.” Lady Meadows approved of his caution; and Mr. Damer was desired to visit her in her own apartment, and acquaint her with the dispositions made by her aunt.

Henrietta expressed the highest satisfaction at what had been done for her beloved brother, and, with the greatest sweetness, acknowledged her obligations to her aunt for the provision she had made for her; but when Mr. Damer acquainted her with the addition he designed to make to the fortune her aunt would give her, tears of tenderness and gratitude overspread her face, and she could utter no more, than, “O! sir, how generous—how kind is this—how shall I repay such unexampled goodness—”

Mr. Damer interrupted her soft exclamations, to lead her down stairs to her aunt, to whom she paid her acknowledgments with inimitable grace, and congratulated her brother with so sincere a joy, that he, who knew how much she was likely to lose by his good fortune, was moved almost to tears.

Mr. Damer a short time afterwards took his leave, and went to the coffeehouse, where he had appointed Mr. Courteney to meet him. He was soon followed by the young gentleman, whose mind was under great agitations on his sister’s account.

“One would hardly imagine,” said Mr. Damer to him, smiling, “that you have just been declared heir to a good estate, you look like one disappointed and unhappy.”

“I am indeed disappointed, sir,” replied Mr. Courteney; “I had laid a plan to make my sister and my friend happy: but my aunt’s partiality has broke all my measures for the present.”

“Then you intend,” said Mr. Damer, who had taken particular notice of his last words, “to make some addition to your sister’s fortune, when the estate comes into your hands?”

“Certainly, sir, (replied Mr. Courteney) I should but ill deserve it, if I did not.”

“It must be confessed (resumed Mr. Damer) that you are a very good brother.”

“All that I can do for my sister, sir, (said he) will be but bare justice; but your generosity to her can never be enough admired.”

“No more of that,” interrupted Mr. Damer. “I love your sister: she is a worthy young woman; I am grieved to think so noble a match for her, should meet with any obstruction for the want of a fortune. What do you think the duke will expect?”

“The lady he has proposed to his son, sir,” said Mr. Courteney, “has twenty thousand pounds; and it would have been my pride and happiness to have prevailed with my aunt to make my sister’s fortune equal to that.”

“Is it possible!” cried Mr. Damer, surprised. “Why fifteen thousand pounds is at least one third of your aunt’s fortune?”

“My sister,” said Mr. Courteney, “has a right to expect it. The whole would have been her’s but for some unlucky accidents, and the strange partiality of lady Meadows for me. All that I can now do is, to let the marquis know, that my sister will have ten thousand pounds paid on the day of her marriage, and ten thousand more on the death of her aunt. The duke loves money; and I greatly doubt whether all his son’s solicitations will make him relish this reversionary ten thousand pounds.”

“We will not put it to the hazard,” interrupted Mr. Damer, “since you are determined to act thus generously by your sister, I will lay down the money myself, and all the security I require, is your bond for the re-payment of it, when your aunt’s estate comes into your possession.”

Mr. Courteney was so overwhelmed with surprise, joy, and gratitude, for this unexpected, noble offer, that, during some moments, he was unable to utter a word. But this silence, accompanied with looks the most expressive that can be imagined, was more eloquent than any language could be. Recovering himself at last, he was beginning to pay the warmest acknowledgments; but Mr. Damer would not suffer him to proceed.

“I am impatient (said he) for the conclusion of this affair. Write to your friend immediately, and let him know that your sister’s guardian will treat with the duke his father, whenever he pleases.”

Mr. Courteney, at his reiterated request, took leave of him, and went home, in order to communicate this joyful news to his friend. Hearing that lady Meadows and his sister were engaged in company, he went to his own apartment, and wrote a short letter to the marquis, in which he acquainted him, that his sister being restored to the favour of her aunt, he had it now in his power to assure him, that if he continued in the same sentiments towards her, and could prevail with his grace to authorise them by his consent, he was impowered by her aunt and her guardian, to declare that her fortune would be twenty thousand pounds.

Having sealed and dispatched this letter to the post, he joined the company below stairs, with looks so full of satisfaction, and a behaviour animated with such extraordinary gaiety, that lady Meadows was more than ever delighted with him, concluding that the noble provision she had made for him, was the source of his joy: but Henrietta, who knew her brother better, and who besides saw something particular in those looks, which he from time to time gave her, felt strange flutterings in her gentle bosom: hopes checked as soon as formed; wishes suppressed as they rose. In these perturbations, she passed that night and the three following days.

Mean time the marquis, having received Mr. Courteney’s letter, was so surprised at this sudden change in the fortune of Henrietta, that he read it over several times before he could persuade himself what he saw was real. His first emotions were all transport: every obstacle to his marriage was now removed; and he might solicit his father’s consent, with a certainty almost of not being denied. Yet a sentiment of delicacy and tenderness made him regret, that it was not in his power to convince Henrietta of the disinterestedness of his love, and for some moments rendered him insensible of his present happiness.

The duke came into his chamber, while he was reading the letter the twentieth time, and so intently, that he did not perceive his entrance. When suddenly raising his eyes, and seeing his father, who, suspecting that this letter, which he seemed to read with so much emotion, came from his mistress, was looking earnestly on him.

“O! my lord (cried he) there is nothing wanting to make me perfectly happy, but your consent to my marriage with miss Courteney. See, my lord, what her brother writes: her brother, who till now has so obstinately opposed my passion!”

The duke took the letter out of his hands, and having read it, returned it to him again without speaking a word, and walked to the other end of the room. The marquis, who saw nothing unfavourable in his looks, followed him, and, throwing himself at his feet, conjured him not to oppose his happiness any longer. The duke desired time to consider; but his son would not give over his solicitations, till he had obtained leave of him to visit miss Courteney, and to declare that his addresses had the sanction of his consent.

The happy marquis gave orders instantly for his post-chaise to be got ready, which his father at first did not oppose; but, after reflecting a little,

“Can you not rein in your impatience for a few days?” said he to him; “I intend to be in town next week: I shall then have an opportunity of seeing the young lady (and, since you are so obstinately bent upon the match) of talking to her aunt and her guardian.”

The marquis would not disoblige his father, by making any objections to this little delay, grievous as it was to him; but retired to write to Mr. Courteney, whom he acquainted with the duke’s intentions, and, anticipating the tender name of brother, poured out his whole heart in the warmest expressions of love, friendship, joy, and every soft emotion with which he was agitated.

Mr. Courteney having communicated this letter to Mr. Damer, he agreed that it was necessary to make lady Meadows acquainted with the steps they had taken in the affair. She entered with a good grace into the generous designs of her nephew in favour of his sister.

“If I had done more for her,” said she to him, smiling, “you would not have had an opportunity of doing so much.” Mr. Courteney kissed her hand with a tender and respectful air.

“Go,” said she, with a look that shewed she was highly pleased; “go, and tell your sister this good news; and tell her also that I am impatient to embrace and congratulate her.”

Mr. Courteney willingly obeyed her. He went to Henrietta’s apartment, and, seeing her sitting pensive and melancholy, he began to rally her upon her tenderness for the marquis. She bore it with great sweetness, but not without some surprise; for her brother was used to be very delicate and reserved upon that subject. By degrees he assumed a more serious tone; and at length gave her to understand, that the marquis was now permitted by his father to pay his addresses to her.

Henrietta blushed and trembled from the moment her brother began to speak to her in a serious manner. Her emotions increased as he proceeded; yet she laboured to conceal them, till Mr. Courteney, explaining to her what Mr. Damer had done for her, which necessarily included his own generous gift, that innate delicacy, which had forced her joy to be silent, suffered her gratitude to shew itself in the most lively expressions. Lady Meadows came into the room, and gave a seasonable interruption to these tender effusions of her heart, which Mr. Courteney had listened to with a kind of painful pleasure. She embraced her niece, and congratulated her on her happy fortune.

Miss Courteney, who had now reason to expect a visit from the marquis, was not much surprised a few days afterwards to see his equipage at the door. After a few moments conversation with Mr. Courteney, he was introduced to lady Meadows, who received him with great respect. Henrietta blushed a little when he appeared, but recovered herself, and received the tender and respectful compliment he made her with her usual grace.

A great deal of company coming in soon afterwards, he found means to engage her apart for a quarter of an hour. Their conversation was such as might be expected between persons of their sense and politeness, who loved each other with the utmost tenderness, and now for the first time saw themselves at liberty to declare their sentiments. Henrietta did not scruple to own to the man, who had so nobly merited her esteem, that her heart had received a most tender impression for him; and this soft acknowledgment completed her lover’s felicity.

Mr. Courteney waited upon the duke the next morning, and had the pleasure to hear from his own mouth, that he was entirely satisfied with his son’s proceedings. His grace visited lady Meadows the same day; and was so charmed with Henrietta, that he scarce discovered less impatience than his son, for the conclusion of the marriage. Every thing being agreed on between the duke and Mr. Damer, with regard to settlements, the writings were drawn up with all convenient speed, and a day appointed for the marriage.

Lady Meadows, though a Roman catholic, allowed the ceremony to be performed at her house: after which the new-married pair, with the old lady, the duke, Mr. Damer, and Mr. Courteney, set out for his grace’s country-seat.

The charming marchioness did not make her first public appearance in town till late in the ensuing winter; when her beauty, her sufferings, her virtue, and her good fortune, were for a long time the subjects of conversation.

Mr. Courteney, happy in the conscious integrity of his heart, happy in the ardent affection of his sister and the marquis, and the esteem of all who knew him, was, by the death of lady Meadows, which happened a few months after his sister’s marriage, enabled to discharge his obligations to Mr. Damer. His generosity was not long unrewarded: an opulent heiress fell desperately in love with him; she was related to the duke, who interested himself so warmly in the affair, that the marriage was soon concluded.

Lord B——, as has been observed already, lived very unhappy with his plebeian lady. The sight of the charming Henrietta renewed his passion. Tortured with remorse, disappointment, and despair, he had recourse to the bottle, and fell an early sacrifice to intemperance.

Miss Woodby, who had always a violent passion for a red-coat, listened to the sighs of a young cadet, and married him in a week after their first acquaintance. Her excuse for this precipitancy was, that the lovely youth would certainly have stabbed himself, if she had delayed his happiness any longer. With part of her fortune he bought a commission, and spent the rest in a few months. After which, he went abroad with his regiment, leaving her, in an obscure retirement, to bewail his absence, and sooth her love-sick heart with hopes that he would return more passionate than ever, and lay all his laurels at her feet.

Miss Belmour, forsaken by her lover, became a proselyte to the Roman catholic religion, and retired to a convent, where the nuns wrought her up to such a degree of enthusiasm, that she settled her whole fortune upon the community, and took the veil; but soon afterwards, repenting of this rash step, she died of grief, remorse, and disappointment.

Mrs. Willis was generously rewarded by the marchioness, for the many kind and faithful services she had received from her: and Mr. Damer, who highly esteemed her for her behaviour to his beauteous ward, settled her husband in such an advantageous way, that in a few years he made a considerable fortune.

The younger Mr. Damer found, in the incessant clamours of a jealous wife, a sufficient punishment for his treacherous designs on Henrietta; and it was not without great difficulty that he was restored to his father’s favour.

Every branch of the Courteney family made frequent advances towards a reconciliation with the marchioness and her brother: but generous as they were, they had too just a sense of the indignities they had suffered from them, to admit of it; and, in this steady resentment, they had, as it usually happens with successful persons, the world on their side.

THE END.