Duty and Inclination/Chapter 47
CHAPTER IV.
"O cunning enemy, to catch a saint
With saints dost bait thy hook! most dangerous
Is that temptation that does goad us on
To sin in loving virtue."....
Shakspeare.
Mrs. De Brooke, during her temporary suspensions from sufferings had frequently expressed to Rosilia her disapprobation of the long visits of Melliphant, and charged her in future to excuse herself from accompanying him to the drawing-room, and that, immediately upon receiving his instructions, she should hasten back to her apartment. This she had practised for several successive days, when Melliphant, harassed by the frequent disappointments he had endured, had the satisfaction at last of meeting her alone.
She had just returned from a short walk in those retired gardens, where she had been accustomed to ramble, free from intrusion. She had been urged by her mother to go there, under the apprehension that her health might suffer from a too great confinement to her sick room. When Melliphant first perceived her, he contemplated her for a time with intense but silent admiration. That bloom which he had observed but recently to have slightly faded from her cheek, was again, from air and exercise, newly revived in all its glowing lustre. Nevertheless, his sense of pleasure vanished, and a sort of malign feeling, of jealousy or of envy, succeeded to it. No one, he thought, could behold her without emotion; and he was seized with the impassioned longing that no eye but his should ever revel over her charms.
Assuming his wonted self-command, and hoping to detain her, he entered upon such topics as he thought best adapted to his purpose. Rosilia, however, anxious to return to her mother, excused herself from any longer stay; and was on the point of quitting the apartment, when Melliphant, in a voice of the most touching rebuke, said "One moment, Miss De Brooke—"will you have the goodness to spare me one moment of your time? I have something to say, which as it regards your mother, I was fearful of introducing too abruptly."
Rosilia instantly turned and resumed her seat: the air of inquietude accompanying the words of Melliphant, diffusing a tremulous agitation through-out her frame.
"I would not for the world. Miss De Brooke, alarm you," he continued, after a short pause, "and yet, as I have not often occasions allowed me of seeing the General, I feel it incumbent upon me, as a duty, to inform you that, as the malady of your mother is of an infectious nature, you cannot any longer with safety to yourself frequent her apartment."
"But" said Rosilia, in accents denoting the extreme perturbation she felt, "do you apprehend danger?"
"Not at present, not immediately; it is precarious; a change might take place."
He witnessed her palpitating bosom, the lifeless hues and disconsolate expression of her interesting countenance; yet, from the machinations of his evil passions, he would have proceeded further, until, entirely overcome, he had seen her drop motionless in her chair, in order that he might have the luxury of supporting her within his arms, and of recalling her to a sense of life and being. The wily Serpent, however, that seemed to be ever near him to direct his thoughts, caused him instantly to perceive how indiscreet would be such conduct: for should Rosilia, from the fears he had instilled, fall into a swoon, and should she report it to her father, which, he conceived, she would not fail to do, it might be the means of a total prohibition to him of her future converse.
"I argue most favourably," he therefore quickly added, "from the excellent constitution of your mother; but as she will require the most vigilant care, a nurse has become indispensable. I can recommend one, whom I am well assured will give satisfaction; she is a kind, worthy creature, and strictly honest."
In respectful and conciliating tones, he then endeavoured to re-assure Rosilia, and to soothe her apprehensions. Never did a lover, the most virtuous, awed in the presence of his mistress, express his feelings better, than did this accomplished dissembler: guarded in his least word or action, affecting the appearance of modesty and decorum, and fearing to betray himself, a stolen or half-averted glance at Rosilia was all he could allow himself,—for never could he openly encounter her beautiful eyes, emanating at once intelligence and the purest virtue.
Fearful that a longer stay might be deemed intrusive, he was on the point of going, and of leaving Rosilia to her solitary reflections, when the General entered, and begged him to be reseated; after which he made a slight recapitulation of the statement he had given Rosilia, urging the necessity of a nurse,—and of himself, as also his daughter, refraining from entering the apartment. He then manifested to the General a great desire that he would, in concurrence with his own opinion, consult that of some other physician; not that he imagined Mrs. De Brooke in danger, but because it would be doubtless a satisfaction to him; and not less on his own account, to feel assured that the most efficacious treatment had been resorted to.
"My dear Melliphant," replied the General, gratified by such a display of liberality, "if you insist upon my so doing, I shall certainly comply; but for my own part, placing as I do a perfect confidence in your skill, I can see no occasion for the attendance of another. My wife, I am convinced, partakes of the same sentiment, and is satisfied you have done all in your power to allay her sufferings, as well as to provide against the increase of her malady."
Highly flattered by this compliment paid to his abilities, Melliphant, with a very respectful bow, withdrew.
"A man of worth and talent," said the General to Rosilia; "we may esteem ourselves fortunate, in having made his timely acquaintance, seeing that he takes such a real interest in your mother's case."
"I fear," returned Rosilia, "my mother's illness has not yet arrived at its crisis; and I am now obliged, by conforming to Mr. Melliphant's advice, to give up my attendance upon her to another."
"I am aware, my dear cliild," replied the General, "of your tender solicitude on your mother's behalf: let us hope her illness will take a more favourable turn, and may be shorter than we at present are led to conceive. At all events, you must try and support yourself for my sake, having now become my only companion. It is to you, Rosilia, I look for present comfort; and it will be for you Rosilia, for your sake alone, in case emergency require it, I shall be inspired with fortitude; therefore do not let us forget that we have a mutual claim upon each other."
It was in similar language this kind parent ever addressed her; and from which Rosilia, from her deep filial regard for him, was then enabled to resist the attacks of sorrow.
The nurse recommended by Melliphant seemed, as he had described her, watchful and attentive. Little, however, did Rosilia suspect she had been tutored to fulfil a double employment; that to promote the views of Melliphant, she had listened to his instructions, and had received his bribes. In actings therefore, accordingly whenever a convenient moment offered, her theme was of Melliphant; she extolled his kindness, his goodness, and his amiable disposition—"no one in the world was equal to that excellent gentleman." She seemed in her encomiums to have spoken the very sentiments of her heart; and Rosilia felt she could not check her good-natured gossip, unless it were in the fear that even the low whispers in which she spoke might disturb her mother, to whose chamber, though Rosilia had been strictly prohibited from entering, she often occasionally stole—imagining no danger could arise, the room undergoing frequent fumigation by aromatic perfumes.
It is natural, thought Rosilia, this good woman should be given to chat; for what else could vary the sameness of her life? Love-stories ending in happy marriages, afforded her an ample topic; sensible and well-spoken for one in her situation of life, she would often descant upon those joys and felicities experienced by the married couple, when happily united; to which, Rosilia consenting, the wary nurse, seldom long absent from her point, would return to Melliphant.
"What a pity that one so good and kind should be unhappy in his mind."
"Unhappy!" returned Rosilia; "why do you think so? You mistake, doubtless, and imagine that the reflection and thoughtfulness to which he is subject proceeds from melancholy."
"No, indeed, Miss, I do not think as you suppose; but I am convinced he labours under some severe secret affliction, which destroys his peace and makes him look so sad; I have seen him many a time, poor gentleman, sitting in such a musing posture, so mournful and sighing so deeply, it almost broke my heart to see him. Ah, Miss, pray don't be angry with me, but you must know I can't help it, upon my life, thinking—that it is love which makes him so unhappy, and that it is you he is so much in love with!"
This was accompanied by a look so sly, that Rosilia could not forbear smiling at the apparent innocent mistake, as she supposed, of the nurse, whom she hastened to underceive.
"I have no means," said she, "of deciding whether or not Mr. Melliphant is affected as you say; but pray, my good nurse, be persuaded I am not the object!"
"Well, Miss, I can only say that I hope you will recollect my words, and depend upon it, ere long, you will find them verified. How glad I should be to see so good a young lady as you are, married to so kind-hearted, so worthy a gentleman—bless his soul, he's the man to make a lady happy!"
Upon these remarks of the nurse, an inquiry as to the truth of them was naturally suggested to the mind of Rosilia, and the whole conduct of Melliphant, since her first acquaintance with him, passed in rapid review before her. Neither in his manners, looks, nor air, could she trace anything like what she supposed might have been the case, had he been influenced by attachment towards her. As a character, gifted with superior understanding and worth, she might esteem him, and expect a similiar return; but to find a lover in Melliphant, the sedate, sober Melliphant, she had never dreamt of; and which she sincerely hoped might never be, firmly impressed with the idea that her soul was not formed to assimilate with his in the closer links of affection.
With the punctuality due to Melliphant's hire of her services, the nurse never failed to make reports to him respecting the issue of every fresh conversation she had held with Rosilia; who, entirely unsuspicious of such a deep-laid stratagem, and little weighing the force or construction that might be attached to her words, delivered her sentiments with that freedom she thought best calculated to please the friendly nurse,—coinciding only, however, in the opinion she entertained of the general worth of Melliphant; and which remarks, though given with exaggeration by the nurse, if they did not tend to raise the hopes of Melliphant, certainly did not tend to lessen them.
"Holding so favourable a place in her good opinion," thought he, "it is but to advance myself a step higher; the force of an approving judgment in its operations upon her affections, may in the end persuade her to love me."
The illness of Mrs. De Brooke, however, beginning to abate of its malignancy, he saw, with mortification, would not only soon render useless to her the continuance of a nurse, but that his visits as medical attendant would necessarily become less frequent. But why suffer himself to be disconcerted? had he not gathered two very enviable privileges—that of a nearer intimacy with Rosilia, and that of perpetuating his claims to the future notice of her parents? His indefatigable care of his patient, his approved skill, had given so much satisfaction, that he had hitherto not only met with every testimony of regard, but with every assurance of a continuation of friendship,—points surely of no trival moment.
The return of Sir Howard from Northumberland was that, however, which he dwelt upon with the greatest uneasiness. Should he attain the acquisition of a considerable addition to his fortune, as was to be expected, from his uncle's demise, he would, doubtless, become to him the most formidable of rivals. The ambition of the parents to form what they might conceive an eligible match for their daughter, uniting title and fortune, might influence Rosilia, though possessing no share in her heart, to bestow her hand upon Sir Howard. This idea, as forcibly presented to him, seemed the most likely of any to prove inimical to his plans.
Deeply ruminating upon the possibility of such an event, to what new expedient could he resort, whereby to defeat Sir Howard, and further promote, as well as assure to himself those advantages he had already, by his persevering industry, acquired? Fruitful as he was in resources, it was not long ere new projects were suggested upon the subject, which, as they became more maturely weighed and digested, needed but to be carried into execution.
In the adjoining house to Melliphant's lived a widow lady, who, though past the meridian of life, retained that fondness for those dissipated pleasures which a tolerable share of beauty, and some gaiety of manner, had rendered so fascinating during the period of her youth; when, fond of admiration, she drank in with avidity the flatteries of those who hovered around her for no other purpose than to indulge in the zest of the moment. Light-minded and frivolous, as her beauty faded she was still, from the possession of a handsome income, in some degree enabled to attract that homage she so much prized. Her company continued to be courted by the worldly votaries of either sex; but whether it was for herself alone, or for the agreeable entertainments she gave, the question never found admittance to her thoughts.
Melliphant was one whom she had found the best neighbour in the world; he was at all times ready to make himself useful, going to her at all hours, and joining her petits soupers. A more than common intimacy had given rise to the gossip of the neighbourhood, supposing that Melliphant was courting the widow's hand for the sake of her fortune; but, as the affair never came to a conclusion, such reports at last degenerated into those of scandal. In truth, marriage was not the object or the wishes of either.
Though others, like Melliphant, were admitted to the favourable estimation of Mrs. Belmour, yet, having the staff in her own hand, she was fearful of transmitting it to another, who might feel inclined to limit her indulgences. She had been so long familiarized to Melliphant, that his attentions, once flattering, became received as a due. Of a confined comprehension, she had never penetrated into the deep hypocrisy of his character, having no conception how well he could wear the mask, and thus appear what in reality he was not; accustomed to his society, she felt a regard for him which induced her willingly to perform any act which might be likely to render him a service.
Having thrown himself upon a sofa in her apartment, in a fit of profound musing, during which Mrs. Belmour had accosted him without receiving a reply, she expostulated with him:
"Why, really, Melliphant," said she, "you become intolerable; you are more and more abstracted every day."
His head still rested upon his hand, and he made no effort to speak. Rising, she approached him, when, starting from his seat, a bursting sigh escaped him as he made towards the door. Curiosity or compassion determined Mrs. Belmour to prevent his going, until she had obtained from him a disclosure as to the cause which thus so strangely affected him.
"Nay," exclaimed she, springing forward and laying her hand on the lock of the door, "I assume the privilege of old acquaintanceship, and you must positively not go until you have told me what it is that thus afflicts you, or promise to do so at another time."
Suffering himself to be led back, he placed himself beside her, and, without further ceremony, revealed in the clearest and fullest manner, the state in which he was placed respecting the ardent passion consuming him, the secret advances he had already made, and the continual fears tormenting him of meeting with a failure in consequence of Sir Howard's advances.
"Sir Howard!" interrupted Mrs. Belmour, "can it be possible that Sir Howard is paying his addresses elsewhere, and to another? Having nearly pledged himself—to me," she was about saying, but checked herself;—whilst her whole countenance reddened, and displayed the strongest expression of jealousy.
Melliphant inwardly rejoiced that his plan had so far succeeded.
"It is, my dear Mrs. Belmour," said he, affecting total ignorance as to her obvious displeasure against Sir Howard, "to solicit your kind interference effectually to oppose the views of Sir Howard, that I am now led to intrude the disclosure of my rivalship in this affair upon your attention."
"Most willingly will I lend you my assistance to defeat him," said she, with asperity; "but how, how can my interference prove of efficacy in promoting your wishes?"
"By the most simple and easy means—that of first becoming acquainted with the parents of his flame, General De Brooke and his lady; an introduction will not be difficult to bring about; and they will form a most eligible acquisition to your delightful parties!"
Flattered by the compliment, and emulous of the novelty arising from an extension of the circle she visited, Mrs. Belmour expressed herself desirous of coinciding as soon as possible with the arrangement.
"But," said she, with some hesitation, "you have not told me how far Sir Howard is a favoured rival."
"Not with the daughter, in the least degree," returned he, "as I before said; my fears rest wholly with regard to how far she may allow herself to be influenced by her parents. Having in myself no pretensions to come openly forward, as also, the want of opportunity for insinuating myself, are the causes, my dear Mrs. Belmour, which urge me to rely upon your friendship. At the same time, I would hint, that in all our proceedings the greatest caution and circumspection must be observed; and that every means employed should be in entire subserviency and conformity with the character and temper of her towards whom our views are directed. Rosilia De Brooke unites the most opposite qualities; she is retired, even to diffidence, but, at the same time, possesses the warmest candour; she has the most over-flowing sensibility I ever witnessed; yet, in point of virtue, she has the greatest self-possession, and the most perfect dignity of mind,—strength and energy of thought and action; of conduct, an unsuspecting innocence, with an understanding cultivated to the last degree; refined and chaste, as manifested in every expression of her countenance, and in every word that falls from her lips."
"Her person," said Mrs. Belmour; "you say nothing of her person."
"Of that you will be the best judge when you see her," replied he, starting from his seat, flashes of crimson rising to his cheek.
Mrs. Belmour regarded his gestures as he walked to and fro the apartment; at length, breaking silence, promised her steady adherence to the course he precribed, and remarked, that perseverance had conquered many difficulties, and had ultimately brought the most obdurate fair ones to bow submissive and voluntary captives at Cupid's shrine.