Duty and Inclination/Chapter 27
CHAPTER VI.
"Laden with honours, glory, fame,
The monarch's favour'd vassal came,
And o'er his veteran brow and mien
Mild grace and dignity were seen."
The health of Oriana, which had appeared to be perfectly re-established, again underwent a change; the condensed atmosphere of so large and crowded a city as London proved hurtful to her delicate constitution. Mrs. De Brooke, therefore, in her maternal anxieties, determined to resort with her daughter a second time to Bath.
The General being so situated as to deem it of the utmost importance to present himself at the War Office, in order that the promises there made him might not sink into total forgetfulness, he was under the necessity of remaining in London, reserving to himself Rosilia for his companion.
During the absence of her mother and sister, and when her father was engaged in business, Rosilia spent her time chiefly with Mrs. Philimore, who, ever amiable and obliging, sought to entertain her young friend in a variety of ways—sometimes by reading together the best modern productions, sometimes by the use of the needle, and in works of embroidery, and, to vary either sedentary occupation, by walking, and the resource occasionally in the evening, of going to the theatre or opera; this being indulged in with judicious care and moderation, was rendered in some measure conducive to useful reflections, tempering in some degree her natural timidity, and furnishing new ideas of life and manners. However kindly considerate as was Mrs. Philimore in promoting such diversions, it seemed surprising to Rosilia that her son Edmund Philimore (of whom we have before spoken) took no share in them. Since the departure of her mother and sister, his character and manners seemed to have undergone a perfect change; good-humour and pleasantry had given place to gloom and silence; seldom present but at those hours usual for the family to assemble, when involved in abstraction he seemed indifferent to all that passed. Inexplicable as was this conduct to others, the cause was but too well known to himself; of strong and ardent feelings, hope suddenly baffled had saddened his soul, leaving it the prey of despondence.
Notwithstanding Mrs. Philimore thus monopolized the time of Rosilia, an evening's tête-à-tête with her father was greatly prized and appreciated by her, whenever it happened that he preferred remaining at home rather than joining the circle at his friend's house.
Filled with a grateful sense, as was the General, of the warm interest exhibited by Sir Aubrey in his late concerns, he was not deficient in paying him, at certain intervals, his due respects; and it being the season when Mr. and Mrs. Arden inhabited their town-house, he in like manner did not omit giving them at stated periods a passing call. From the circumstance, perhaps, of Mrs. De Brooke's absence, or perhaps from sisterly feeling, happy to show kindness to her brother in proportion as Sir Aubrey was less inclined to judge him harshly, or modelling her actions by those of her father, whichever of these causes operated, Mrs. Arden was indubitably more friendly to her brother than of late years had been customary with her.
The language she addressed to him was gracious and conciliating; but more so whenever his daughters became the topic of conversation between them.
"My dear brother," said she on one of those occasions, "though my nieces are but personally known to me, believe me, I truly feel for them those sympathies usually accompanying so near a relationship. What I feel, in truths comes direct from the heart; it being a sentiment more in connexion with the affections than I have ever experienced for the nieces or nephews of Mr. Arden—allied to me but by marriage."
Softened, flattered, pleased, the General, taking her hand, pressed it with fraternal tenderness, saying, "My dear sister, such are the operations of nature, diffusing themselves into your thoughts; and there, from the goodness of your disposition, reigning unchecked, they inspire the kindred sentiments you have just uttered."
In pursuing the train of her awakened feelings, she exclaimed with warmth, "Brother, you have promised to dine with us to-day; will you indulge me further and bring with you your daughter Rosilia? I cannot reconcile your leaving her at home: pray afford me the satisfaction of seeing her accompany you here to-day."
Unable, from the previous discourse they had held, to combat any longer her wishes, the General hesitated not to accede to her request; departing from the former resolution he had adopted, never to suffer his children to enter his sister's doors unattended by their mother. Thus having given his promise, which escaped his lips in a moment of kindness, as he walked homeward he trusted that his then easy compliance might, at some future period, be attended with the happy result of their respective families becoming united in the bonds of mutual amity and concord.
"My dear child," said he, with apparent unconcern, after a short conversation with Rosilia upon indifferent topics, "I am going to dine with my sister, Mrs. Arden, to-day, and mean to take you with me. She has much desired your coming, and I have agreed that you shall go. You know I do not approve of your bestowing too much attention upon your toilet, but in this instance I wish you to be well attired-—that is, neatly, simply; a plain dress becomes you most, and will be the most adapted for the occasion, as we shall be, if I mistake not, en famille."
Asking no questions, but expressing the joy she felt, Rosilia hastened to obey her father, and in a short interval appeared before him exactly in accordance with his wishes.
Placing her arm under his, they proceeded together, and in the space of half an hour found themselves at the door of one of those spacious abodes in the centre of the handsome buildings in Grosvenor-square, and were ushered by a portly, consequential butler to Mrs. Arden's usual sitting-room, whose work-table remained the same as when the General had left her; but its mistress was no longer visible. From a large, low window the sun partially spread its gilded rays over a rich Turkey carpet, and other articles of expensive elegance decorated the apartment. The sweet notes of a piping bulfinch seemed to increase those tender feelings which were stealing insensibly over the heart of Rosilia, as, advancing from an inner apartment connected by folding-doors, her aunt graciously came forward to meet her.
A year having elapsed since Mrs. Arden had caught but an imperfect view of her, had added infinite embellishments to her person, and Mrs. Arden contemplated her niece with a silent approbation and delight, far exceeding that she had ever bestowed upon another,—those forms of perfect regularity, but of lifeless expression, cold within and without, faithful to the Grecian statue they resembled. Rosilia just emerging from childhood into the woman, the simplicity of the former and the intelligence of the latter seemed by turns to be struggling with each other to gain the ascendency,—modest, unobtrusive, graceful in all she said or did.
Mrs. Arden expressed herself to her brother highly pleased and proud of the new acquisition she had formed by his introduction to her of his daughter; whilst Rosilia, on her side, was charmed by the kind suavity and condescension of her aunt.
Happy season of youth! when all that is novel strikes upon the imagination, and is exalted with a fervour admitting of no alloy.
The General having brought his daughter early, in order that she might have leisure for making acquaintance with her aunt, left them, with the intention of rejoining them at the dinner hour. After the indulgence therefore of a tête-à-tête, Rosilia accompanied her aunt in her usual every-day drive. Descending to the carriage, followed by her aunt, the livery attendants having taken their stations behind, Mrs. Arden, having made some purchases for herself at several fashionable shops, and a few presents for her niece, visited a circulating library in Bond-street, where having lounged away an hour or two in chit-chat amongst her acquaintance, and taken a few turns in Hyde Park, she was driven home; during which interval she insensibly fell into a comparison between the nieces of Mr. Arden and Rosilia. Weary of the continual society of the former, and the common-place topics they discussed, she resolved to make the latter, as long as her stay in London permitted, her frequent companion. She felt proud and flattered that the advantages were so much in favour of her niece; the Misses Arden having by close application to languages, mathematics, and voluminous histories studied but to become dull, and to be deprived of those active intelligences of brilliant imagery, taste, and sentiment which give to woman's mind its loveliest ornament.
Arrived at home, Mrs. Arden adjourned with Rosilia to her dressing-room, and whilst, changing her morning's attire, she arrayed herself in the splendid costume of a rout, to which, as on most other evenings, she was then engaged, to divert Rosilia during the intermediate time she displayed before her the contents of her jewelcase, richly studded with precious stones. Rosilia was not a mere superficial observer of things, but enjoyed the pleasurable advantages of a contemplative mind; and hence the sight of these sparkling gems was equally gratifying to her mental as to her outward vision; for herein were exhibited to her view the wonderful works of the Creator, combined with the ingenuity of the creature; then raising her thoughts still higher, from effects to causes, she soared on the wings of a vivid contemplation into the sublime regions of the Revelations, which presented to her searching mind that "great city whose light was as a stone most precious, clear as crystal; whose walls were garnished with all manner of such, and whose twelve gates were as twelve pearls." How magnificently grand this imagery! thought Rosilia; it is doubtless symbolical of vast interior realities,—of too great magnitude, she was well aware, for the comparatively feeble grasp of her comprehension to encompass.
Mrs. Arden, little imagining what was passing in her niece's mind, felt pleased at seeing her thus intently survey the treasures of her casket. Having made her arrangements, she descended with Rosilia to the drawing-room, where was Mr. Arden, who, rising, made Rosilia his bow, accompanied by a stateliness of manner greatly calculated to inspire her wonted timidity, had it not been in some measure dissipated by the cheering presence of her father, who, in spite of the misfortunes he had experienced, still brought good humour into every circle.
It had been arranged between the General and Mrs. De Brooke, that after a few months given to the restoration of the health of Oriana at Bath, they were conjointly to meet in the county of Somerset, in order to inspect the beautiful Villa of Mount Zephyr, then offered on lease, proposing, should it suit them, to make it their future residence.
Through the influence of Sir Aubrey, the General had obtained the certainty of being shortly put into possession of some Government allowance—an annual stipend for the support of his family becoming daily more necessary. His mind, therefore, being at rest on that score, he did not wish wholly to withdraw from life, but to remain sufficiently within its enjoyments to afford them occasionally to his daughters. He had the happiness of hearing that the salubrious springs of Bath had again revived Oriana, and hoped, as the spring-breezes further advanced, he should meet her shortly perfectly restored.
Fascinated as was Rosilia by the charm of those new affections awakened in her for her aunt, she could not think of their interruption but with pain. Almost daily Mrs. Arden called to take her for an airing in her carriage, and she had become, with her father, a frequent guest at her table. Thus in the habit of associating with her niece, Mrs. Arden sometimes spoke of her to Sir Aubrey and Lady De Brooke, in terms that could not fail to excite interest, and weaken insensibly that disinclination the former had felt ever to behold an offspring of that alliance his son had formed, inflicting upon him so heavy a vexation.
Wishing to do a kindness to her niece, as also to gratify her brother, Mrs. Arden, in still further seeking to impress Sir Aubrey in favour of Rosilia, had in view the benevolent desire of introducing her to him. Seizing an auspicious moment for urging her intreaty, Sir Aubrey consented, and it was agreed upon that within a short period Mr. and Mrs. Arden should spend the day with them, and be accompanied by Rosilia and her father.
What a happiness did such intelligence convey to Rosilia! the summit of her wishes seemed realized; and to whom was she indebted for it? Her heart beat high with delight and gratitude as it replied, "to her aunt! her kind, indulgent aunt." She was, then, about to form an acquaintance with her father's father; to behold him near her! Her grandfather! the high, the powerful, the distinguished Sir Aubrey! The brilliancy of her imagination cast into shade all that might tell against him, and invested his public celebrity and renown in colours the most glowing.
In readiness to attend the signal, her aunt's carnage drove to the door, into which being handed by her father, who took his place beside her, it rolled swiftly over the ground to the house of Sir Aubrey, keeping pace with the anxious expectation of Rosilia: a sort of timid confusion heightened the colouring of her cheek, as she descended and followed her aunt to the apartment of Lady De Brooke, whom they found alone, seated on a sofa, at the extreme end of a spacious saloon. She arose to meet her visitors; and as she did so, her countenance wore a pleasing and agreeable affability; perhaps a more experienced critic than Rosilia might have discovered, in the turn of her lip, a something denoting a talent for the satirical. Be it as it may, her reception of her guests was frank and easy.
They seated themselves; but scarcely had a few minutes elapsed, than an opposite door opening, presented to the eye of Rosilia an object of a most noble and dignified mien. Mr. and Mrs. Arden rose to receive him; De Brooke did the same, and coming towards his daughter, led her by the hand to introduce her to Sir Aubrey—to him who had so often dwelt upon Rosilia's juvenile fancy, invested with all the splendour of greatness, the concomitant of martial talent, judgment, and wisdom.
Sir Aubrey was arrayed in a frock uniform, bearing the insignia of knighthood; though aged, yet free from infirmity; his majestic stature contrasting itself with the light and airy form of the young Rosilia, his grandchild, whom, with a condescending aspect, taking by the hand, he bent to salute. Then raising himself, he stood, as a tower, exalted in mute grandeur; whilst she seemed budding at its base a humble snowdrop: and as the dewy morn bathes its pure white petals, so, her soft head reclining, the lucid tear bedewed her spotless bosom. Or, viewed in a light still more interesting, she might have appeared as a harbinger sent from Heaven, for the purpose of chasing away discordant feelings, and pleading forgiveness for her parents as a benediction upon herself!
Cold, indeed, stern and obdurate must have been the heart that could resist an appeal so touching, beautiful, and eloquent as this; and yet Sir Aubrey, a courtier and a man of the world, unaccustomed to indulge in the soft luxury of the tender emotions, felt but half their force.
Charmed as was De Brooke at the outward effects of his Rosilia's sensibility, yet at the same time pained at the situation of his child, conscious that she attracted all eyes upon her, and fearful also of the misinterpretation of affectation or weakness given to it by her ladyship, he looked at his sister, who, comprehending his wishes, lent her kind interference, and conducted Rosilia from the apartment. Passing into a recess and small corridor opening into a grass plot, Rosilia, in taking several turns with her aunt, had leisure to subdue the overflowings of her feelings. When mistress of herself, composed and calm she rejoined the party.
Seated by her grandfather during the hour of repast, as soon as the domestics, who thronged the doors in bearing away and replacing the luxuries of the table, had retired, being more at liberty to think and indulge reflection, Sir Aubrey became the subject engrossing her thoughts. Perhaps she might have felt awed by the dignified seriousness of his usual aspect, had not such been dissipated the moment of his addressing her, when his countenance relaxed into a pleasing benignity, which inspired her at once with confidence and delight.
And so passed the evening; until, locked within the silent recess of her own chamber, young and enthusiastic, embracing new impressions with ardour, involuntary sighs sprang from the nature of her contemplations. How delightful, were fate ever to ordain her to move in that orbit of splendour, above the common routine of existence! An enchanted country lay before her! and various were the scenes of beauty it presented to strike and fascinate her attention.
Suddenly, however, the mirror of her fancy became obscured, the view darkened, and she descended by degrees to the recollection of the coldness, restraints, animosities, and family differences she had heard from her infant years; all of which seemed to her to be wrapped in an impenetrable veil of mystery. Yet it was in vain she sought to dispel it from her thoughts, or to discover any efficient cause in which it originated. This appeared a hopeless case.
Submitting herself, therefore, to the kind protection and unerring guidance of Him who is perfectly acquainted with all our ways, and who foresees all that finite beings call contingencies, she passed the nocturnal hours in sweet repose, cheerfully and calmly meeting her father the next morning at the breakfast-table.