Duty and Inclination/Chapter 50
CHAPTER VII.
"Hyena's smiles he wears, and in his breast
No trace of candour's found."
Wishing to reap every advantage in his power from the absence of the General, Melliphant solicited the indulgence of entertaining Mrs. De Brooke and her daughter, in company with Mrs. Belmour, at his own house. The request was so urgently made, and was so well seconded by Mrs. Belmour, that Mrs. De Brooke thought it would appear ungenerous in her to refuse. They accordingly met together upon the evening appointed.
The apartments of Mr. Melliphant were large and handsome; previously however to receiving his guests in the room destined for that purpose, he made some alterations, which, with the help also of a few hired articles of some expense and beauty, gave an appearance of taste and elegance, calculated to impose and excite attention. Were Rosilia the presiding goddess here, thought he, the charm would be complete. If by some happy association in finding herself called upon to lend her assistance at the tea-equipage, such an idea could gain but a temporary admittance to her thoughts; and again a second time with greater force, by becoming at last familiar to it, success might still be his.
Alas! to what an infatuation,—to what an illusion did he yield himself! Would it be possible to discover a more unprincipled dissembler, seeking but the consummation of his selfish views. To bind himself in the bonds of matrimony and the day after what might he expect but to be arrested for debts he had no means of discharging, and by an execution in his house to be deprived of every, the least article of furniture then decorating his spacious and well-arranged apartments. What an opposition is there in the sentiments and feelings of a man like Melliphant to those who in religiously regarding marriage, make the happiness of the beloved object the primary desire of the soul.
Nevertheless, the elated Melliphant, upon bestowing welcome upon his guests, rejoiced at beholding a smile of satisfaction illumine the eloquent countenance of her against whom his arts were directed. On a pier table lay an assortment of valuable prints. An Indian cabinet, consisting of a small but choice collection of petrefactions and fossils, was placed in a recess at the bottom of the room; a few paintings and portraits from the pencil of the most eminent artists adorned the walls. With the nicest care, Melliphant had combined for the entertainment of Rosilia, both in art and science, what he was well aware would best assimilate with her taste, and afford her, what in her estimation surpassed every other enjoyment,—the intellectual and the pleasing.
Having minutely examined every painting, and admired the respective beauties of each, so nicely delineated, and pointed out to her observation by Melliphant, he placed a chair for her at the table of prints, leaving her there, to indulge in all the luxury of her taste, whilst he resumed conversation with Mrs. De Brooke. He had purposely laid upon the table, Rousseau's "Nouvelle Heloise;" she might be led to open it; it was in French, and glowing in all the brilliancy of original description, he had conceived it could not fail to captivate her.
He sat from her apart, at some distance; but though supporting an animated discourse, the most trifling gesture of Rosilia escaped not his attention. Having been fully gratified by an inspection of the prints, she laid her hand upon "Heloise;" she removed it from its place; she opened it. The words in the title-page, "The woman who reads this is lost!" Melliphant had taken care to obliterate. As an insidious foe, ruminating upon his dark intent, his eye at times deeply fixed upon her from under his lowering brow.
She continued reading; and the features of Melliphant, as he threw himself back in his chair, with folded arms, relaxed into that smile which seemed to proceed from some cruel joy,—some malicious hope,— that external fiend-like expression bearing certain indications of evil within, and which a wise Providence has designed to forewarn the innocent.
But as the serpent often unperceived aims its forked dart, so Melliphant lurking as it were in ambush, the deadly venom of his intentions was still concealed from the sight.
Lovely was the pure intellectual ray emanating from the countenance of Rosilia, as she turned over the leaves of the book, occasionally pausing to read some glowing passage that met her eye; but in none of which did she find aught that might be termed exceptionable, or calculated to injure the most susceptible delicacy. With the desire to know the author, she turned to the first page.
"Rousseau?" involuntarily exclaimed she aloud, which drew upon her the attention of Mrs. Belmour, who received the work from her hand; "If you have never read it," said she, "let me advise you to lose no time in doing so; what pleasure it will give you! so much sentiment, it cannot fail to delight you."
"I must confess," returned Rosilia, "my mind is so accessible to prejudice, that probably with me the author's name may be a sufficient inducement to conclude I should but lose my time in its perusal. Or, were I led to do so, I should think I gave to amusement only that time which might be much more usefully spent. The recommendations you give it, are certainly very enticing, but I trust such may equally be given to works more generally approved of,—"Paul and Virginia," for instance; surely, that charming and affecting story combines sentiment with imagination; the most natural and virtuous feelings of the heart, with the most lively and brilliant colouring; 'tis truly delightful! Others I could mention, to say nothing of Akenside or Thompson. Oh! such authors have been most happy in their descriptions of nature throughout the whole of their respective tales and poems."
"So warm, so sensitive, so energetic," thought Melliphant, as he marked the fervent and animated expression and hue accompanying her words, "could she be prevailed upon to read Rousseau, my work is accomplished!"
He stole gently round to the back of Mrs. Belmour's chair, and half inclining forward, whispered something audible to her ear alone; then resuming his seat near Mrs. De Brooke, seemed engaged but in discourse with her.
"Let me assure you, my dear Miss De Brooke," said Mrs. Belmour, after a due pause, "that if any censure has been attached to the works of Rousseau, it has found its existence but in prejudice,—absolute prejudice! a narrow-mindedness to which indeed you should be above listening, or allowing to prevail with you. You should read all works, and decide for yourself. But," continued she, smiling, whilst assuming an air and tone of soft persuasion, "I know a reason that might doubly recommend that work to you, that might render it doubly more interesting, and of which you are at present but little aware."
The curiosity of Rosilia being thus raised, she hastened anxiously attentive to what was to follow.
"It is," added Mrs. Belmour, "that you will find in Julia a second self. Had you lived in the time of Rousseau, and had he known you, one might have conceived he had taken you for his model: thence you may learn how inimitably he has copied nature, in the charming character he has painted."
A lively blush suffused the cheek of Rosilia, at the compliment she supposed Mrs. Belmour intended to pay her, who was earnestly awaiting a reply.
"I cannot," she said, "attempt to refute you, Mrs. Belmour, because I have no doubt your ideas are the ideas of many; but, as it is by the generally received opinions I wish to be guided, I feel no inclination to become an admirer of Rousseau."
She would have said more, but she feared she had already piqued her adversary, and wished, therefore, to change the subject; at the same time, a sudden recollection flashed across her mind of what she had once heard fall from the lips of her esteemed friend, Dr. Lovesworth. "That Rousseau refined upon sensuality, and that no virtuous woman should read him, whether married or single, because he painted scenes and images pernicious in their effects, having a tendency to injure chastity, blight modesty, and destroy innocence, which in the married as in the single state, ought to be alike tenaciously preserved."
Melliphant had attentively listened to the conversation which had passed between his coadjutor, Mrs. Belmour, and Rosilia, notwithstanding he had been endeavouring to divert the attention of Mrs. De Brooke by an exhibition of the contents of his Indian cabinet; and emotion flushed his face, rage flashed from his eyes! upon finding himself again defeated. The tea, however, intervened, and, master of himself, he did the honours, assisted by Rosilia, with perfect decorum. Conversation decreasing, he next, for the amusement of the elder ladies, proposed a game at cards; and there being but four in number, though no employment was more irksome to Rosilia, she was obliged to comply.
To do himself credit, Melliphant betted high against Mrs. Belmour, who was his antagonist, and lost at every game, paying his debts with the spirit of one indifferent as to the amount. Rosilia, who was his partner, feared that such repeated ill-luck to him, arose from her deficiency in play, and solicited the permission to lay down her cards; but Melliphant, throbbing with a dawning hope, on beholding himself an object of her sympathy, linked by association in her thoughts, either winning or losing as she won or lost, was sensible of a delight too great to yield to her request.
A few more games, however, were scarcely played, when Mrs. De Brooke rose to depart, though prevailed upon first to take some refreshment; various wines being displayed, neatly set out, with a small choice collation.
Mrs. Belmour had given vent to her excellent spirits, which, harmonizing with a natural vivacity ever retained by Mrs. De Brooke, hours had stolen away, and it was later than they could have supposed w'hen they rose to take leave.
Previous to leaving the apartment, Rosilia had been attracted by a glitter, caused, as she imagined, by a refraction of light falling upon a mineral in the cabinet; but upon drawing near, she perceived it was a ray reflected merely from a small piece of common glass; aware that Melliphant possessed a knowledge of botany, she concluded it was placed there for the preservation of some choice botanical plant; upon a closer examination, however, she found it covered only a few dried and withered leaves and stalks of roses and myrtle, which in their present state naturally seemed to her as useless and of no value. She paused, and was about asking for a solution of what appeared to her so perfectly enigmatical, when she was called away by her mother, who was awaiting to depart.
Having taken leave of Mrs. Belmour as she stepped into the next door, her own house, to the great annoyance of Melliphant, Sir Howard passed, who in recognizing them, turned instantly about, and who in accosting Mrs. De Brooke, offered her the support of his arm. Exultation, however, succeeded to Melliphant's displeasure, since he found it had procured him the privilege of taking charge of Rosilia. The serenity of the night air and cleanness of the foot-pavement, had caused Mrs. De Brooke to prefer walking, rather than returning home in a carriage.
The night was clear but frosty, yet the intense cold was unfelt by Melliphant. Elevated by the wine he had taken, the fever of delirium and of intemperate passion swelled in his veins. Rosilia, under the influence of the keen air, was desirous of quickening her pace, but Melliphant, on the contrary, to prolong the time, would stop at intervals to gather more closely around her, the folds of her mantle, and walked with slow and measured steps, notwithstanding she urged a quicker pace. He wished Sir Howard and her mother might advance far before; he wished also, to prolong each fleeting moment, which, as it passed, conveyed a charm so rapturous on its wings, and losing insensibly that habitual guard he held over himself, exclaimed in impassioned accents, "Oh! what happiness to be thus indulged! Could you walk thus with me all night!—every night?"
In such similar insignificant terms were his incoherent rhapsodies expressed, seeming to Rosilia so little analogous,—so little in unison with the general ideas inspired by Melliphant,—that all he uttered failed of its power.
He had wished to speak of Heloise, but checked himself; the topic might be unprofitable; besides, he had another point in view, upon the success of which depended, he conceived, his last resource—which was, to teach Rosilia botany from Rousseau's treatise on that science, of which Mr. Wakefield's little work had given her already a very pleasing and general idea, and she could have had no objection to increasing her knowledge of so elegant a study, but certainly not from Rousseau, nor under the tuition of Melliphant.
Making inquiry, whether she had paid attention to his botanical prints, he took occasion to introduce the subject, to which she replied in the negative.
"Then," added he, "may I hope for the pleasure of your company early some morning, that you may be afforded time for their inspection? Should Mrs. De Brooke be disinclined to accompany you, Mrs Belmour, I am persuaded will with the greatest pleasure. I could also at the same time show you some trifling collections of my own making; though, in their present state, they do not exhibit much beauty."
"I perceived," said Rosilia, "some leaves covered by a bit of glass, in one of the partitions of the cabinet."
"Those leaves," replied Melliphant, sighing deeply, and speaking in accents half broken, "Those leaves—every—frag—ment be—be—long—ing to that little sprig of myrtle, and those—rose-leaves—I would not," throwing the utmost emphasis in his expression, "I would not exchange them for the whole contents of the cabinet; they are prized by me, more than all I possess besides."
"It is certainly a strange fancy," observed Rosilia.
"O no, do not call that strange, the mere cursory glance at which operates upon me with all the secret power of a wonderful and magnetic charm! I am attracted to those leaves, dried and withered as they are, by sentiments—yes, by sentiments incorporated with my soul, my life, my being! Can you forget! Is your memory so short? Must I remind you of the contention between Sir Howard and myself about those same leaves. That myrtle and rose,—you granted them to me! I have ever since cherished them! Do you blame me—you surely cannot blame me?"
Wishing to dispel the sentimentality gathering over Melliphant, Rosilia replied to him in raillery, "I wish," said she, "I had known you were such an admirer of those flowers, I could have procured you some before; but you may still have as many as you please from us, having at present some large pots of each in full blossom."
That Rosilia should thus unexpectedly have thrown ridicule upon his words, confused, and rendered him at a loss to reply. Seeking to master himself, however, after a short pause, he replied,
"You, who are truly fond of flowers, whose pencil gives to art so finished a representation of nature, how would your pleasure be increased, by uniting with this talent a knowledge of botany. You can form no conception of the delight,—the intellectual charm,—arising from such a study. If I might be allowed to offer myself as an instructor, to call upon you sometimes for that purpose, and sometimes to be your companion in your excursions to your garden; in describing to you the wonderful structure, order, and beauty of plants, I should unfold to your infinitely comprehensive mind, such an expansion of ideas, such a field for the exercise as also the recreation of its talents, that the small portion of my time and trouble thus employed would be more than tenfold rewarded in the effects produced in you."
Having reached home, Rosilia had but time to express her thanks for so obliging an offer. Sir Howard had already taken leave of Mrs. De Brooke, but he still lingered at the open door ere he departed, apparently to make his bow to Rosilia. His dark brows were closely knit as he passed her, and glancing at Melliphant, the happy Melliphant! as he conceived him, a look of stern indignation, he rushed by and was presently out of sight.
Though this conduct of Sir Howard was noticed by Melliphant, he seemed to treat it with the coolest indifference; taking from his pocket a book on leaving Rosilia, he presented it to her, saying, "May I beg of you the favour to take this, and may I hope you will look into it; it treats of botany."
Rosilia was about complying, but a kind Providence shielding her, suggested the idea that by accepting the offered work, and by admitting Melliphant as an instructor, he might interpret her compliance into an encouragement of his hopes. She therefore softened her refusal by rendering her acknowledgements as graciously as possible.