Read Memoirs of Emma Courtney Page 8


  We rejoined Augustus at the dinner hour, and spent the day together inharmony and friendship. The physician calling in the evening, Mrs Harleyconsulted him, whether it would be safe to remove her son, as she wasimpatient to have him under her own roof. To this the doctor made noobjection, provided he was conveyed in an easy carriage, and by shortstages. On Mrs Harley's thanking him for his polite and humane attentionto his patient, smilingly pointing to me, he replied--'Her thanks weremisplaced.' His look was arch and significant; it called a glow intomy cheeks. I ventured, once more, to steal a glance at Augustus: hisfeatures were again overspread with a more than usual seriousness, whilehis eyes seemed designedly averted. Mrs Harley sighed, and, abruptlychanging the subject, asked the physician an indifferent question, whosoon after took his leave.

  CHAPTER XXII

  In a few days we returned to the peaceful mansion of my maternal friend.Augustus seemed revived by the little journey, while every hour broughtwith it an increase of health and spirits. Mrs Harley would not sufferme to speak of going to Morton Park in the absence of its master;neither could Augustus spare his kind nurse:--'I must stay,' he added,and methought his accents were softened, 'and complete my charitablepurpose.' My appearance again in the village, the respectability, andthe testimony, of my friends, cleared my fame; and it was only at MortonPark, that any injurious suspicions were affected to be entertained.

  The hours flew on downy pinions:--my new _brother_, for so he wouldcall himself, endeavoured to testify his gratitude, by encouraging andassisting me in the pursuit of learning and science: he gave us lectureson astronomy and philosophy--

  'While truths divine came mended from his tongue.'

  I applied myself to the languages, and aided by my preceptor, attaineda general knowledge of the principles, and philosophy, of criticism andgrammar, and of the rules of composition. Every day brought with itthe acquisition of some new truth; and our intervals from study wereemployed in music, in drawing, in conversation, in reading the _belleslettres_--in--

  'The feast of reason, and the flow of souls.'

  The spring was advancing:--we now made little excursions, either onhorseback, in a chaise, or in a boat on the river, through the adjacentcountry. The fraternal relation, which Augustus had assumed, banishedrestraint, and assisted me in deceiving myself. I drank in large andintoxicating draughts of a delicious poison, that had circulated throughevery vein to my heart, before I was aware of its progress. At length,part of a conversation, which I accidentally overheard between Mrs Harleyand her son, recalled me to a temporary recollection.

  I was seeking them in the garden, towards the dusk of the evening, and afilbert hedge separated us. I heard the voice of my friend, as speakingearnestly, and I unconsciously stopped.

  'It would be a comfort to my declining years to see you the husband ofa woman of virtue and sensibility: domestic affections meliorate theheart; no one ought to live wholly to himself.'

  'Certainly not, neither does any one; but, in the present state ofsociety, there are many difficulties and anxieties attending theseconnections: they are a lottery, and the prizes are few. I think,perhaps, nearly with you, but my situation is, _in many respects,a peculiar one_,'--and he sighed deeply:--Need I enumerate thesepeculiarities to you? Neither do I pretend to have lived so long inthe world without imbibing many of its prejudices, and catching thecontagion of its habits.'

  'They are unworthy of you.'

  'Perhaps so--but we will, if you please, change the subject; this to meis not a pleasant one. What is become of my pupil? It is likely to be aclear night; let us go in, and prepare for some astronomicalobservations.'

  My heart reproved me for listening, I crept back to my chamber--shedone tear--heaved a convulsive, struggling, sigh--breathed on myhandkerchief, applied it to my eyes, and joined my friends in thelibrary.

  Four months had rapidly passed--'the spot of azure in the cloudysky'--of my destiny. Mr Morton, I was informed, had returned to thePark, and Augustus, whose health was now thoroughly restored, talked ofquitting the country. I advised with my friends, who agreed with me,that it was now become proper for me to visit my uncle, and, explainingto him the late events, justify my conduct. Mrs Harley and her sonoffered to accompany me; but this, for many reasons, I declined; takingmy leave of them with a heavy heart, and promising, if I were not kindlyreceived, an immediate return.

  CHAPTER XXIII

  On my arrival at Mr Morton's, the porter informed me, he was orderedby his lady, to deny my entrance. My swelling heart!--a sentiment ofindignation distended it almost to suffocation.--At this moment, Annetripped lightly through the court-yard, and, seeing me, ran to embraceme. I returned her caresses with warmth.

  'Ah!' said she, 'you are not, you cannot be, guilty. I have been longingto see you, and to hear all that has happened, but it was not permittedme.' She added, in a whisper, 'I cannot love my mother, for she tormentsand restrains me--my desire of liberty is stronger than my duty--but Ishall one day be able to outwit her.'

  'Will not your father, my love, allow me to speak with him? I have aright to be heard, and I demand his attention.'

  'He is in his dressing-room,' said Ann, 'I will slide softly, to him,and tell him you are here.'

  Away she flew, and one of the footmen presently returned, to conduct meto his master. I found him alone, he received me with a grave and severeaspect. I related to him, circumstantially, the occurrences which hadtaken place during his absence. My words, my voice, my manner, wereemphatic--animated with the energy of truth--they extorted, theycommanded, they, irresistibly, compelled assent. His features softened,his eyes glistened, he held out his hand, he was about to speak--hehesitated a moment, and sighed. At this instant, Mrs Morton burst intothe room, with the aspect of a fury--her bloated countenance yet moreswelled and hideous--I shrunk back involuntarily--she poured forth atorrent of abuse and invective. A momentary recollection reassuredme--waiting till she had exhausted her breath, I turned from her, andto her husband, with calm dignity--

  'I thank you, Sir, for all the kindness I have received from you--I amconvinced you do me justice--_for this I do not thank you_, it was aduty to which I had a claim, and which you owed, not only to me, but,to yourself. My longer continuance in this house, I feel, would beimproper. For the present, I return to Mrs Harley's, where I shallrespectfully receive, and maturely weigh, any counsels with which youmay in future think proper to favour me.'

  Mr Morton bowed his head; poor man! his mild spirit was overborne, hedared not assert the dictates of his own reason. I hurried out ofthe apartment, and hastily embracing Ann, who awaited me in the hall,charging myself with a hundred kisses for Mrs Harley, I took the way tothe hospitable mansion of my friend.

  I had proceeded about half a mile, when I beheld Augustus, advancingtowards me; he observed my tremulous emotions, and pallid countenance;he took my hand, holding it with a gentle pressure, and, throwinghis other arm round me, supported my faultering steps. His voicewas the voice of kindness--his words spake assurance, and breathedhope--_fallacious hope!_--My heart melted within me--my tremorencreased--I dissolved into tears.

  'A deserted outcast from society--a desolate orphan--what was to becomeof me--to whom could I fly?'

  'Unjust girl! have I then forfeited all your confidence--have you not amother and a friend, who love you--' he stopped--paused--and added 'withmaternal, with _fraternal_, tenderness? to whom would you go?--remainwith us, your society will cheer my mother's declining years'--againhe hesitated,--'I am about to return to town, assure me, that you willcontinue with Mrs Harley--it will soften the pain of separation.'

  I struggled for more fortitude--hinted at the narrowness of my fortune--atmy wish to exert my talents in some way, that should procure me a lessdependent situation--spoke of my active spirit--of my abhorrence of alife of indolence and vacuity.

  He insisted on my waving these subjects for the present. 'There wouldbe time enough, in future, for their consideration. In the mean while,I might go
on improving myself, and whether present or absent, mightdepend upon him, for every assistance in his power.'

  His soothing kindness, aided by the affectionate attentions of myfriend, gradually, lulled my mind into tranquillity. My bosom wasagitated, only, by a slight and sweet emotion--like the gentleundulations of the ocean, when the winds, that swept over its ruffledsurface, are hushed into repose.

  CHAPTER XXIV

  Another month passed away--every hour, I imbibed, in large draughts, thedeceitful poison of hope. A few days before that appointed for thedeparture of Augustus, I received a visit from Mr Montague, of whosesituation, during his confinement, I had made many enquiries, and itwas with unaffected pleasure that I beheld him perfectly restored tohealth. I introduced him to my friends, who congratulated him upon hisrecovery, and treated him with that polite and cordial hospitality whichcharacterized them. He was on his way to Morton Park, and was particularin his enquiries respecting the late conduct of the lady of the mansion,of which he had heard some confused reports. I could not conceal fromhim our final separation, but, aware of his inflammable temper, Iendeavoured to soften my recital as far as was consistent with truth andjustice. It was with difficulty, that our united persuasions induced himto restrain his fiery spirit, which broke out into menaces andexecrations. I represented to him--

  'That every thing had been already explained; that the affair had nowsubsided; that a reconciliation was neither probable nor desirable; thatany interference, on his part, would only tend to mutual exasperation,from which I must eventually be the sufferer.'

  I extorted from him a promise--that, as he was necessitated to meet MrMorton on business, he would make no allusions to the past--I should bemortified, (I added) by having it supposed, that I stood in need of a_champion_.--Mr Morton had no doubts of the rectitude of my conduct, andit would be barbarous to involve him in a perpetual domestic warfare.

  Mr Montague, at the request of Augustus, spent that day, and the next,with us. I thought, I perceived, that he regarded Mr Harley with ascrutinizing eye, and observed my respect for, and attention to, him,with jealous apprehension. Before his departure, he requested half anhour's conversation with me alone, with which request I immediatelycomplied, and withdrew with him into an adjoining compartment. Heinformed me--

  'That he was going to London to pursue his medical studies--that, on hisreturn, his father had proposed to establish him in his profession--thathis prospects were very favourable, and that he should esteem himselfcompletely happy if he might, yet, hope to soften my heart in hisfavour, and to place me in a more assured and tranquil position.'

  I breathed a heavy sigh, and sunk into a melancholy reverie.

  'Speak to me, Emma,' said he, with impatience, 'and relieve the anxietyI suffer.'

  'Alas! What can I say?'

  'Say, that you will try to love me, that you will reward my faith andperseverance.'

  'Would to God, I could'--I hesitated--my eyes filled with tears--'Go toLondon,' resumed I; 'a thousand new objects will there quickly obliteratefrom your remembrance a romantic and ill-fated attachment, to whichretirement, and the want of other impression, has given birth, and whichowes its strength merely to opposition.'

  'As that opposition,' retorted he, 'is the offspring of pride andinsensibility--'

  I looked at him with a mournful air--'Do not reproach me, Montague, mysituation is far more pitiable than yours. _I am, indeed, unhappy_,'--added I, after a pause; 'I, like you, am the victim of a raised, of, Ifear, a distempered imagination.'

  He eagerly entreated me to explain myself.

  'I will not attempt to deceive you--I should accuse myself, were I topreserve any sentiment, however delicate its nature, that might tendto remove your present illusion. It is, I confess, with extremereluctance--with real pain'--I trembled--my voice faultered, and I feltmy colour vary--'that I constrain myself to acknowledge a hopeless, anextravagant'--I stopped, unable to proceed.

  Fire flashed from his eyes, he started from his seat, and took two orthree hasty strides across the room.

  'I understand you, but too well--Augustus Harley shall dispute with me aprize'--

  'Stop, Sir, be not unjust--make not an ungenerous return to theconfidence I have reposed in you. Respect the violence which, on youraccount, I have done to my own feelings. I own, that I have not beenable to defend my heart against the accomplishments and high qualitiesof Mr Harley--I respected his virtues and attainments, and, by a tooeasy transition--at length--_loved his person_. But my tenderness is asecret to all the world but yourself--It has not met with'--a burningblush suffused my cheek--'It has little hope of meeting, a return. Toyour _honor_ I have confided this cherished _secret_--dare you betray myconfidence? I know, you dare not!'

  He seemed affected--his mind appeared torn by a variety of conflictingemotions, that struggled for victory--he walked towards me, and again tothe door, several times. I approached him--I gave him my hand--

  'Adieu, Montague,' said I, in a softened accent--'Be assured of mysympathy--of my esteem--of my best wishes! When you can meet me withcalmness, I shall rejoice to see you--_as a friend_. Amidst some excesses,I perceive the seeds of real worth in your character, cultivate them,they may yield a noble harvest. I shall not be forgetful of thedistinction you have shewn me, _when almost a deserted orphan_--Onceagain--farewel, my friend, and--may God bless you!'

  I precipitately withdrew my hand from his, and rushed out of the room. Iretired to my chamber, and it was some hours before my spirits becamesufficiently composed to allow me to rejoin my friends. On meetingthem, Mrs Harley mentioned, with some surprize, the abrupt departure ofMontague, who had quitted the house, without taking leave of its owners,by whom he had been so politely received.

  'He is a fine young man,' added she, 'but appears to be very eccentric.'

  Augustus was silent, but fixed his penetrating eyes on my face, with anexpression that covered me with confusion.

  CHAPTER XXV

  The day fixed for the departure of Mr Harley, for London, now drewnear--I had anticipated this period with the most cruel inquietude. Iwas going to lose, perhaps for ever, my preceptor, my friend! He, fromwhom my mind had acquired knowledge, and in whose presence my heart hadrested satisfied. I had hitherto scarcely formed a wish beyond that ofdaily beholding, and listening to him--I was now to gaze on that belovedcountenance, to listen to those soothing accents, no longer. He wasabout to mix in the gay world--to lose in the hurry of business, or ofpleasure, the remembrance of those tender, rational, tranquil, moments,sacred to virtue and friendship, that had left an indelible impressionon my heart. Could I, indeed, flatter myself, that the idea of the timid,affectionate, Emma, would ever recur to his mind in the tumultuousscenes of the crouded metropolis, it would doubtless quickly be effaced,and lost in the multiplicity of engagements and avocations. How shouldI, buried in solitude and silence, recall it to his recollection, howcontrive to mingle it with his thoughts, and entangle it with hisassociations? Ah! did he but know my tenderness--_the desire of beingbeloved_, of inspiring sympathy, is congenial to the human heart--whyshould I hesitate to inform him of my affection--why do I blush andtremble at the mere idea? It is a false shame! It is a pernicious systemof morals, which teaches us that hypocrisy can be virtue! He is wellacquainted with the purity, and with the sincerity, of my heart--he willat least regard me with esteem and tender pity--and how often has 'pitymelted the soul to love!' The experiment is, surely, innocent, andlittle hazardous. What I have to apprehend? Can I distrust, for amoment, those principles of rectitude, of honour, of goodness, whichgave birth to my affection? Have I not witnessed his humanity, have Inot experienced his delicacy, in a thousand instances? Though he shouldbe obliged to wound, he is incapable of insulting, the heart that loveshim; and that, loving him, believed, alas! for a long time, _that itloved only virtue_!

  The morning of our separation, at last, arrived. My friend, too muchindisposed to attend the breakfast table, took leave of her son in herown apartment. I awaited him, i
n the library, with a beating heart, and,on his departure, put into his hands a paper.--

  'Read it not,' said I, in a low and almost inarticulate tone of voice,'till arrived at the end of your journey; or, at least, till you are tenmiles from hence.'

  He received it in silence; but it was a silence more expressive thanwords.

  'Suffer me,' it said, 'for a few moments, to solicit your candour and attention. You are the only man in the world, to whom I could venture to confide sentiments, that to many would be inconceivable; and by those, who are unacquainted with the human mind, and the variety of circumstances by which characters are variously impressed and formed--who are accustomed to consider mankind in masses--who have been used to bend implicitly, to custom and prescription--the deviation of a solitary individual from _rules_ sanctioned by usage, by prejudice, by expediency, would be regarded as romantic. I frankly avow, while my cheeks glow with the blushes of _modesty_, not of shame, that your virtues and accomplishments have excited in my bosom an affection, as pure as the motives which gave it birth, and as animated as it is pure.--This ingenuous avowal may perhaps affect, but will scarcely (I suspect) surprise, you; for, incapable of dissimulation, the emotions of my mind are ever but too apparent in my expressions, and in my conduct, to deceive a less penetrating eye than yours--neither have I been solicitous to disguise them.