CHAPTER XVIII
_Mother._ What I dazzled by a flash from Cupid's mirror, With whichthe boy, as mortal urchins wont, Flings back the sunbeam in the eye ofpassengers--Then laughs to see them stumble!
_Daughter._ Mother! no--It was a lightning-flash which dazzled me, Andnever shall these eyes see true again. _Beef and Pudding.-An Old EnglishComedy._
It is necessary that we should leave our hero Nigel for a time, althoughin a situation neither safe, comfortable, nor creditable, in orderto detail some particulars which have immediate connexion with hisfortunes.
It was but the third day after he had been forced to take refuge in thehouse of old Trapbois, the noted usurer of Whitefriars, commonly calledGolden Trapbois, when the pretty daughter of old Ramsay, the watchmaker,after having piously seen her father finish his breakfast, (fromthe fear that he might, in an abstruse fit of thought, swallow thesalt-cellar instead of a crust of the brown loaf,) set forth from thehouse as soon as he was again plunged into the depth of calculation,and, accompanied only by that faithful old drudge, Janet, the Scotslaundress, to whom her whims were laws, made her way to Lombard Street,and disturbed, at the unusual hour of eight in the morning, Aunt Judith,the sister of her worthy godfather.
The venerable maiden received her young visitor with no greatcomplacency; for, naturally enough, she had neither the same admirationof her very pretty countenance, nor allowance for her foolish andgirlish impatience of temper, which Master George Heriot entertained.Still Mistress Margaret was a favourite of her brother's, whose will wasto Aunt Judith a supreme law; and she contented herself with asking heruntimely visitor, "what she made so early with her pale, chitty face, inthe streets of London?"
"I would speak with the Lady Hermione," answered the almost breathlessgirl, while the blood ran so fast to her face as totally to remove theobjection of paleness which Aunt Judith had made to her complexion.
"With the Lady Hermione?" said Aunt Judith--"with the Lady Hermione? andat this time in the morning, when she will scarce see any of the family,even at seasonable hours? You are crazy, you silly wench, or you abusethe indulgence which my brother and the lady have shown to you."
"Indeed, indeed I have not," repeated Margaret, struggling to retain theunbidden tear which seemed ready to burst out on the slightest occasion."Do but say to the lady that your brother's god-daughter desiresearnestly to speak to her, and I know she will not refuse to see me."
Aunt Judith bent an earnest, suspicious, and inquisitive glance on heryoung visitor, "You might make me your secretary, my lassie," she said,"as well as the Lady Hermione. I am older, and better skilled to advise.I live more in the world than one who shuts herself up within fourrooms, and I have the better means to assist you."
"O! no--no--no," said Margaret, eagerly, and with more earnest sinceritythan complaisance; "there are some things to which you cannot advise me,Aunt Judith. It is a case--pardon me, my dear aunt--a case beyond yourcounsel."
"I am glad on't, maiden," said Aunt Judith, somewhat angrily; "for Ithink the follies of the young people of this generation would drive madan old brain like mine. Here you come on the viretot, through the wholestreets of London, to talk some nonsense to a lady, who scarce seesGod's sun, but when he shines on a brick wall. But I will tell her youare here."
She went away, and shortly returned with a dry--"Miss Marget, the ladywill be glad to see you; and that's more, my young madam, than you had aright to count upon."
Mistress Margaret hung her head in silence, too much perplexed bythe train of her own embarrassed thoughts, for attempting either toconciliate Aunt Judith's kindness, or, which on other occasionswould have been as congenial to her own humour, to retaliate on hercross-tempered remarks and manner. She followed Aunt Judith, therefore,in silence and dejection, to the strong oaken door which divided theLady Hermione's apartments from the rest of George Heriot's spacioushouse.
At the door of this sanctuary it is necessary to pause, in order tocorrect the reports with which Richie Moniplies had filled his master'sear, respecting the singular appearance of that lady's attendance atprayers, whom we now own to be by name the Lady Hermione. Some partof these exaggerations had been communicated to the worthy Scotsman byJenkin Vincent, who was well experienced in the species of wit whichhas been long a favourite in the city, under the names of cross-biting,giving the dor, bamboozling, cramming, hoaxing, humbugging, andquizzing; for which sport Richie Moniplies, with his solemn gravity,totally unapprehensive of a joke, and his natural propensity to themarvellous, formed an admirable subject. Farther ornaments the tale hadreceived from Richie himself, whose tongue, especially when oiled withgood liquor, had a considerable tendency to amplification, andwho failed not, while he retailed to his master all the wonderfulcircumstances narrated by Vincent, to add to them many conjectures ofhis own, which his imagination had over-hastily converted into facts.
Yet the life which the Lady Hermione had led for two years, during whichshe had been the inmate of George Heriot's house, was so singular, asalmost to sanction many of the wild reports which went abroad. The housewhich the worthy goldsmith inhabited, had in former times belonged to apowerful and wealthy baronial family, which, during the reign of HenryVIII., terminated in a dowager lady, very wealthy, very devout, and mostunalienably attached to the Catholic faith. The chosen friend of theHonourable Lady Foljambe was the Abbess of Saint Roque's Nunnery, likeherself a conscientious, rigid, and devoted Papist. When the house ofSaint Roque was despotically dissolved by the fiat of the impetuousmonarch, the Lady Foljambe received her friend into her spaciousmansion, together with two vestal sisters, who, like their Abbess, weredetermined to follow the tenor of their vows, instead of embracing theprofane liberty which the Monarch's will had thrown in their choice.For their residence, the Lady Foljambe contrived, with all secrecy--forHenry might not have relished her interference--to set apart a suite offour rooms, with a little closet fitted up as an oratory, or chapel; thewhole apartments fenced by a stout oaken door to exclude strangers, andaccommodated with a turning wheel to receive necessaries, accordingto the practice of all nunneries. In this retreat, the Abbess of SaintRoque and her attendants passed many years, communicating only with theLady Foljambe, who, in virtue of their prayers, and of the support sheafforded them, accounted herself little less than a saint on earth. TheAbbess, fortunately for herself, died before her munificent patroness,who lived deep in Queen Elizabeth's time, ere she was summoned by fate.
The Lady Foljambe was succeeded in this mansion by a sour fanaticknight, a distant and collateral relation, who claimed the same meritfor expelling the priestess of Baal, which his predecessor had foundedon maintaining the votaresses of Heaven. Of the two unhappy nuns, drivenfrom their ancient refuge, one went beyond sea; the other, unable fromold age to undertake such a journey, died under the roof of a faithfulCatholic widow of low degree. Sir Paul Crambagge, having got rid ofthe nuns, spoiled the chapel of its ornaments, and had thoughts ofaltogether destroying the apartments, until checked by the reflectionthat the operation would be an unnecessary expense, since he onlyinhabited three rooms of the large mansion, and had not therefore theslightest occasion for any addition to its accommodations. His sonproved a waster and a prodigal, and from him the house was bought by ourfriend George Heriot, who, finding, like Sir Paul, the house more thansufficiently ample for his accommodation, left the Foljambe apartments,or Saint Roque's rooms, as they were called, in the state in which hefound them.
About two years and a half before our history opened, when Heriot wasabsent upon an expedition to the Continent, he sent special orders tohis sister and his cash-keeper, directing that the Foljambe apartmentsshould be fitted up handsomely, though plainly, for the reception ofa lady, who would make them her residence for some time; and who wouldlive more or less with his own family according to her pleasure. He alsodirected, that the necessary repairs should be made with secrecy,and that as little should be said as possible upon the subject of hisletter.
When the time of hi
s return came nigh, Aunt Judith and the householdwere on the tenter-hooks of impatience. Master George came, as he hadintimated, accompanied by a lady, so eminently beautiful, that, hadit not been for her extreme and uniform paleness, she might have beenreckoned one of the loveliest creatures on earth. She had with her anattendant, or humble companion, whose business seemed only to wait uponher. This person, a reserved woman, and by her dialect a foreigner, agedabout fifty, was called by the lady Monna Paula, and by Master Heriot,and others, Mademoiselle Pauline. She slept in the same room withher patroness at night, ate in her apartment, and was scarcely everseparated from her during the day.
These females took possession of the nunnery of the devout Abbess, and,without observing the same rigorous seclusion, according to the letter,seemed wellnigh to restore the apartments to the use to which they hadbeen originally designed. The new inmates lived and took their mealsapart from the rest of the family. With the domestics Lady Hermione, forso she was termed, held no communication, and Mademoiselle Pauline onlysuch as was indispensable, which she dispatched as briefly as possible.Frequent and liberal largesses reconciled the servants to this conduct;and they were in the habit of observing to each other, that to do aservice for Mademoiselle Pauline, was like finding a fairy treasure.
To Aunt Judith the Lady Hermione was kind and civil, but theirintercourse was rare; on which account the elder lady felt some pangsboth of curiosity and injured dignity. But she knew her brother so well,and loved him so dearly, that his will, once expressed, might be trulysaid to become her own. The worthy citizen was not without a spice ofthe dogmatism which grows on the best disposition, when a word is alaw to all around. Master George did not endure to be questioned by hisfamily, and, when he had generally expressed his will, that the LadyHermione should live in the way most agreeable to her, and that noinquiries should be made concerning their history, or her motives forobserving such strict seclusion, his sister well knew that he would havebeen seriously displeased with any attempt to pry into the secret.
But, though Heriot's servants were bribed, and his sister awed intosilent acquiescence in these arrangements, they were not of a nature toescape the critical observation of the neighbourhood. Some opined thatthe wealthy goldsmith was about to turn papist, and re-establish LadyFoljambe's nunnery--others that he was going mad--others that hewas either going to marry, or to do worse. Master George's constantappearance at church, and the knowledge that the supposed votaressalways attended when the prayers of the English ritual were read in thefamily, liberated him from the first of these suspicions; those whohad to transact business with him upon 'Change, could not doubt thesoundness of Master Heriot's mind; and, to confute the other rumours,it was credibly reported by such as made the matter their particularinterest, that Master George Heriot never visited his guest but inpresence of Mademoiselle Pauline, who sat with her work in a remote partof the same room in which they conversed. It was also ascertained thatthese visits scarcely ever exceeded an hour in length, and were usuallyonly repeated once a week, an intercourse too brief and too longinterrupted, to render it probable that love was the bond of theirunion.
The inquirers were, therefore, at fault, and compelled to relinquishthe pursuit of Master Heriot's secret, while a thousand ridiculoustales were circulated amongst the ignorant and superstitious, with somespecimens of which our friend Richie Moniplies had been _crammed_, as wehave seen, by the malicious apprentice of worthy David Ramsay.
There was one person in the world who, it was thought, could (if shewould) have said more of the Lady Hermione than any one in London,except George Heriot himself; and that was the said David Ramsay's onlychild, Margaret.
This girl was not much past the age of fifteen when the Lady Hermionefirst came to England, and was a very frequent visitor at hergodfather's, who was much amused by her childish sallies, and by thewild and natural beauty with which she sung the airs of her nativecountry. Spoilt she was on all hands; by the indulgence of hergodfather, the absent habits and indifference of her father, and thedeference of all around to her caprices, as a beauty and as an heiress.But though, from these circumstances, the city-beauty had become aswilful, as capricious, and as affected, as unlimited indulgence seldomfails to render those to whom it is extended; and although she exhibitedupon many occasions that affectation of extreme shyness, silence, andreserve, which misses in their teens are apt to take for an amiablemodesty; and, upon others, a considerable portion of that flippancy,which youth sometimes confounds with wit, Mistress Margaret had muchreal shrewdness and judgment, which wanted only opportunities ofobservation to refine it--a lively, good-humoured, playful disposition,and an excellent heart. Her acquired follies were much increased byreading plays and romances, to which she devoted a great deal of hertime, and from which she adopted ideas as different as possible fromthose which she might have obtained from the invaluable and affectionateinstructions of an excellent mother; and the freaks of which she wassometimes guilty, rendered her not unjustly liable to the charge ofaffectation and coquetry. But the little lass had sense and shrewdnessenough to keep her failings out of sight of her godfather, to whom shewas sincerely attached; and so high she stood in his favour, that, athis recommendation, she obtained permission to visit the recluse LadyHermione.
The singular mode of life which that lady observed; her great beauty,rendered even more interesting by her extreme paleness; the consciouspride of being admitted farther than the rest of the world into thesociety of a person who was wrapped in so much mystery, made adeep impression on the mind of Margaret Ramsay; and though theirconversations were at no time either long or confidential, yet, proud ofthe trust reposed in her, Margaret was as secret respecting their tenoras if every word repeated had been to cost her life. No inquiry, howeverartfully backed by flattery and insinuation, whether on the part of DameUrsula, or any other person equally inquisitive, could wring from thelittle maiden one word of what she heard or saw, after she entered thesemysterious and secluded apartments. The slightest question concerningMaster Heriot's ghost, was sufficient, at her gayest moment, to checkthe current of her communicative prattle, and render her silent.
We mention this, chiefly to illustrate the early strength of Margaret'scharacter--a strength concealed under a hundred freakish whims andhumours, as an ancient and massive buttress is disguised by itsfantastic covering of ivy and wildflowers. In truth, if the damsel hadtold all she heard or saw within the Foljambe apartments, she would havesaid but little to gratify the curiosity of inquirers.
At the earlier period of their acquaintance, the Lady Hermione was wontto reward the attentions of her little friend with small but elegantpresents, and entertain her by a display of foreign rarities andcuriosities, many of them of considerable value. Sometimes the timewas passed in a way much less agreeable to Margaret, by her receivinglessons from Pauline in the use of the needle. But, although herpreceptress practised these arts with a dexterity then only known inforeign convents, the pupil proved so incorrigibly idle and awkward,that the task of needlework was at length given up, and lessons of musicsubstituted in their stead. Here also Pauline was excellently qualifiedas an instructress, and Margaret, more successful in a science for whichNature had gifted her, made proficiency both in vocal and instrumentalmusic. These lessons passed in presence of the Lady Hermione, to whomthey seemed to give pleasure. She sometimes added her own voice to theperformance, in a pure, clear stream of liquid melody; but this was onlywhen the music was of a devotional cast. As Margaret became older, hercommunications with the recluse assumed a different character. She wasallowed, if not encouraged, to tell whatever she had remarked out ofdoors, and the Lady Hermione, while she remarked the quick, sharp, andretentive powers of observation possessed by her young friend, oftenfound sufficient reason to caution her against rashness in formingopinions, and giddy petulance in expressing them.
The habitual awe with which she regarded this singular personage,induced Mistress Margaret, though by no means delighting incontradiction or reproof, to li
sten with patience to her admonitions,and to make full allowance for the good intentions of the patroness bywhom they were bestowed; although in her heart she could hardly conceivehow Madame Hermione, who never stirred from the Foljambe apartments,should think of teaching knowledge of the world to one who walked twicea-week between Temple Bar and Lombard Street, besides parading inthe Park every Sunday that proved to be fair weather. Indeed, prettyMistress Margaret was so little inclined to endure such remonstrances,that her intercourse with the inhabitants of the Foljambe apartmentswould have probably slackened as her circle of acquaintance increasedin the external world, had she not, on the one hand, entertained anhabitual reverence for her monitress, of which she could not divestherself, and been flattered, on the other, by being to a certain degreethe depository of a confidence for which others thirsted in vain.Besides, although the conversation of Hermione was uniformly serious, itwas not in general either formal or severe; nor was the lady offended byflights of levity which Mistress Margaret sometimes ventured on in herpresence, even when they were such as made Monna Paula cast her eyesupwards, and sigh with that compassion which a devotee extends towardsthe votaries of a trivial and profane world. Thus, upon the whole, thelittle maiden was disposed to submit, though not without some wincing,to the grave admonitions of the Lady Hermione; and the rather that themystery annexed to the person of her monitress was in her mind earlyassociated with a vague idea of wealth and importance, which had beenrather confirmed than lessened by many accidental circumstances whichshe had noticed since she was more capable of observation.
It frequently happens, that the counsel which we reckon intrusive whenoffered to us unasked, becomes precious in our eyes when the pressure ofdifficulties renders us more diffident of our own judgment than we areapt to find ourselves in the hours of ease and indifference; and this ismore especially the case if we suppose that our adviser may also possesspower and inclination to back his counsel with effectual assistance.Mistress Margaret was now in that situation. She was, or believedherself to be, in a condition where both advice and assistance might benecessary; and it was therefore, after an anxious and sleepless night,that she resolved to have recourse to the Lady Hermione, who she knewwould readily afford her the one, and, as she hoped, might also possessmeans of giving her the other. The conversation between them will bestexplain the purport of the visit.