Lady Anne Granard/Chapter 19

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3893573Lady Anne GranardChapter 191842Letitia Elizabeth Landon


CHAPTER XIX.


Georgiana and Helen, though by no means troubled with the feverish anxiety, or elated by the far-seeing hopes of their mother, were yet as pleased with the gay doings of the following day as girls generally are. They rose at an early hour, for they knew that the male part of Mr. Palmer's servants were gone forth, long before, to find any thing "green and pretty" wherewith to decorate the rooms; and their own boy was, at the same time, employed in stripping Louisa's garden of its floral treasures. They endeavoured to supply, by the tasteful disposition of that which was obtained, the want of greenhouse plants and costly exotics, and were so successful, that even Lady Anne, "who had seen so much, and understood the matter so well," expressed herself really charmed by the coup d'œil of her drawing-room, and proceeded to give orders for the distribution of lights in the most judicious and liberal manner.

"To want light is to want everything; nothing can be gay or splendid without it; a gloomy room casts a chill on the spirits, and sends people away, by dozens, to find a more inspiring atmosphere; nevertheless, you must remember, towards the close of the evening, never to sit near any brilliant light. When people grow pale and exhausted, they should always contrive to sit in shadow. I have known a sallow woman, with good features, manage to look well by nestling into the shadow of a window-curtain, or amongst the plants. If eyes are bright, they sparkle more effectively; if dull, their deficiencies are hidden: there is quite as much knowledge required for hiding a defect as displaying a beauty. Who would think that Lady Penrhyn was crooked?"

"Crooked, mamma! only in her temper, surely?"

"No; in her shape, which has a positive twist, though not a great one; and she manages to dress so judiciously! not one of her acquaintance guesses such a thing. I have hitherto kept her secret; but on her conduct to-night depends my continuing to do so, but of course I expect you to guard it."

"I cannot imagine how it can be hidden," said Helen, musing.

"Of course you can't, at your age and with your shape, child; but, under different circumstances, you would find the benefit of cotton-wool and an intelligent soubrette. Lady P. also finds a great advantage in that perpetual change of posture she adopts, and a kind of wriggling motion adapted to her laugh."

"And she is always laughing a little; never heartily, but a kind of hi, hi!—not so merry as silly, in my opinion."

"You are too young, Georgiana, to have an opinion; for, having seen nothing of the world, you are not able to compare and combine circumstances in such a manner as to form a just judgment. No person of fashion ever laughs out from the impulse of the heart, like old Mr. Palmer, for instance (surely that daughter of his who is coming here knows better); but many people, of the highest grade, allow themselves to giggle a little, especially when they have fine teeth—and you know hers are perfect. Many persons must laugh when a great person or an acknowledged wit says a clever thing, such as a smart repartee, or a really good pun. Satirical people always expect a short laugh to follow the effusions of their—their malignity, shall I call it?"

"I never would pay them that compliment," said Helen.

"Indeed you must; girls in your situation must follow, not lead. Nothing less than an heiress who is also a beauty can pretend to a high tone of morality; but I am leaving the subject. Lady Penrhyn says wild things, ill-natured things, and at times witty things, from no motive whatever but that of keeping up the laugh and the motion, which diverts the eye from the only defect in her person; and it certainly answers. Her tact is admirable, and offers an example to all young people, since none of them know what may be required for themselves in future life."

With this sage and just observation Lady Anne left her daughters to finish their pleasant labours in the drawing-room, while she inspected the rooms below, by much the more important, because the more expensive affair. Nothing could exceed the suavity of her manners to those servants of her neighbours now employed on her account, and who actually found themselves repaid by the smiles of her they termed a real lady for extra service and great personal exertion. It is true, they were a good-natured and respectable set of servants, who had lived so long in their places that they might be said, by a happy contagion, to have caught kindly feelings from their superiors, and, having assisted in saving the lives of the young ladies, gave them an interest in their pleasures, and a real delight in seeing those fair young faces lighted up with joy. The marriage of Mr. Glentworth had been a subject of importance and exultation to them all; nor had they failed to rejoice in Miss Louisa's marrying "the man of her heart," spite of her they wickedly termed "the old lady," but now they saw more of her; scarcely a lord was thought good enough for her daughters.

"Helen," said Georgiana, "just lay down that wreath a moment, and look at the two young gentlemen coming up the street."

"They are fine-looking young men, certainly, and as tall as Charles Penrhyn. Ah! they stop at Mr. Palmer's; they must be Lord Meersbrook and his sailor-brother; I wonder which is he?"

"Most likely he who is the shorter of the two;—no! he goes in the first, and is, of course, the eldest; but we have no time for conjecturing now."

Nevertheless, Georgiana did, for some minutes, fix her eyes on the door, not with any expectation of seeing the parties come out, or any desire that they would or would not be amongst their evening guests, but in the recollection of those sweet feelings which, the morning before, had thrilled her heart, and made the tears gush into her eyes, as her busy imagination painted the embrace of the two brothers, when both became sensible that they indeed lived. When Arthur knew he had secured his inestimable prize, and Frederic felt that he possessed in such a brother

more than a world
Of one entire and perfect chrysolite,

she soon afterwards became busy, and affected to be gay; for she remembered what her mother had said, and was sensible that looking at the young gentleman was not the way to render her less liable to the charge of admiring him. She had a vivid imagination, great sensibility, an acute perception of all that was noble and excellent in character and conduct; more especially where it bore on that dear, fraternal tie, which she felt to be the life of life to her. Such feelings were more especially awakened, at the moment, in Georgiana than any other of the party; because, during their busy time in the China closet, she had been saved, by Helen, from an accident which, if not of great moment, would at least have prevented her from enjoying the pleasure she expected, and had necessarily stimulated her warm and grateful emotions.

Notwithstanding Lady Penrhyn departed in the manner we have seen, she did not fail to fulfil her promise, and was the first person (with the exception of Charles and his bride) to present herself in Lady Anne's drawing-room. Her reception of her brother was most affectionate—there are times when the most artificial, by habit, become natural; when the early memories of the heart, for a short time at least, spring up as a fountain of living waters, overflowing the selfish vanities and conventional incrustations which the world has planted—giving honest smiles to the countenance; artless, yet loving words to the tongue; and the gratified heart seems restored to a new childhood. Nothing could exceed the delight with which Penrhyn observed this change in his sister, who had never been herself, in his eyes, since her marriage; and whose manners, as they were generally displayed, would have been disgustingly painful at this time, when the sweet simplicity and integrity of his wife had imbued his very being with a just preference for nature to art.

But company poured in—he was too busy, and his lovely bride too beautiful, to preserve him in a frame of mind congenial with that which he desired to adopt. Pride would mingle with his pleasure, the world would run away with him for a short time, for, on every side, he heard congratulations on his marriage, or the advantages of his situation, as contrasted with his former one. There might be some shrugs and some sneers amongst the party on the "all for love" young couple, or the young man who had banished himself to that horrible Siberia, "the city;" but these were not heard by him, nor were they uttered by any of the aristocratic part of the community. Much as it is the fashion to deride the nobility, by decrying their morality and denying their ability, even by those who have the entrée, and therefore may be supposed to know them the best, in point of fact, at the present day, there are amongst them an immense proportion of good and sensible people. If the whole were as much distinguished by nature as by rank, it would be much more extraordinary than that "a few young men were wild and foolish, a few old ones prejudiced and conceited—that amongst a race of women, distinguished as much by their personal charms as their titles, some should be weak and vain, others prejudiced and presuming. In what town or village, amongst what class of female life, shall we find an exemption from these faults? The possession of beauty leads to an overweening admiration of it, and wealth gives a power of preserving this boon of nature in a manner forbidden to the poor, which will account fully for the extreme and perhaps blameable solicitude a few continue to feel on the subject. They are few in comparison with the excellent mothers, the affectionate and dutiful wives, the well-educated, unaffected, and fondly-attached daughters who form the great portion of the aristocracy of Great Britain.

To the surprise of Lady Anne and Lady Penrhyn, what the latter called the "irruption of the Goths" did not take place till a late hour. This was the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, Mr. and Mrs. Gooch, and two young gentlemen, respecting whom there had been sufficient of whispers and expectations to render them as much the point of attraction as the handsome bride and bridegroom had already been. These were immediately followed by the Marquess of Wentworthdale, accompanied by the Russian Prince Blackensdorff; so that Lady Anne had, at the moment, her hands quite full, and Lady Penrhyn's eyes were not less busy. She had fully intended to fascinate Lord Meersbrook, but the Russian was six feet two inches high; he wore the full dress of his own court, and several splendid orders; every eye was upon him—unluckily, his eyes soon fixed themselves on Louisa, whom he thought very like his own sister, the reigning beauty of the court at St. Petersburgh.

As Louisa had no desire to receive the attentions of the Prince, and Lady Penrhyn was well-practised in the art of inveigling, she would have soon carried her point, if she had not met with one who disputed the prize almost as adroitly as herself; this was Lady Allerton, no longer the artful Miss Aubrey, who drew away poor Mary Granard's lover, but the imperious wife, who had long since taught her cautious, suspicious husband that he had been angled for by a skilful piscator, and secured by tackle the law alone could break. Of this, however, he had little expectation; the lady loved herself, if she loved not him, and, as he knew she had given her heart at one time to a man who deserted her, he lived on in the hope that her affections, awakened by gratitude to an indulgent husband, might some time revert to him sufficiently to secure the respectability of both; more than that he had ceased to hope, perhaps to care for. He was trying to become a politician, but it was by no means his vocation. As he was fatally mistaken in supposing the gentle and artless Mary a designing girl, urged on by a manœuvring mother, so was he in supposing that a man of his temper and habits could find solace for the wants of the heart in the occupations of the mind. Brought up by a widowed mother in the constant exercise of the affections which guarded him from the many temptations to which youth and wealth exposed him, but also narrowed his views and repressed his energies, he was by no means able to contend with the daring, or wind on the sinuous course of the cunning. Suspicion of women had been grafted in his temper as a duty by the mother, who knew how desirable a parti he would be deemed, but other jealousy he had none; for he was much too honourable and ingenuous to imagine that of another which he himself was in capable of conceiving, much less carrying into action.

With Mary Granard for a wife, he would have been loved for his virtues and respected for his usefulness—he would have been a happy man, and merited his happiness; he was now helpless, at best, but frequently in positive misery, and only saved from utter recklessness by the remnants of what might be termed his better nature, or the indolence which belonged to his easy temper.