: Manners: A Novel Vol 2 by Panache Madame - England Social life and customs Fiction

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d by his wife. Though she could not trust herself to say, "Good bye," she stept into the carriage with tolerable composure; but when she lost sight of them and their cheerful abode, she experienced an acuteness of sorrow she some time before had thought she was as incapable of ever feeling again, as an equal degree of joy.

When the carriage drove away, Mr. Temple made a speedy retreat into his study; and the traces of tears were still visible on his wife's face, when they met at dinner.

One only passion unreveal'd With maiden pride the maid conceal'd; Yet not less purely felt the flame-- Oh! need I then that passion name?

SCOTT.

"Which are to mortals given, With less of earth in them than Heav'n:"

For affliction had indeed "touched her looks with something that was scarce earthly," and, when brightened by any emotion near akin to joy, smiles such as might have beamed in the face of a seraph illuminated hers. Mrs. Sullivan, in a tone of sorrowful admiration, whispered to Cecilia, "Jack can't choose but fancy her; she's beautifuller than ever: I han't seen her like since we parted." "Law, mama!" replied Cecilia with unmixed vexation, "I believe you've taken leave of your senses, since you used to say she was a sallow poking thing. You forget what beautiful girls the Miss Nathans, and the Miss Bakers, and all the Lunnon ladies are." Here, with affected indifference and real mortification, she stopped to examine the subject of their discourse through her glass. As she continued to gaze, her soft cheek became crimsoned with anger, and her beautiful eye, which seemed formed to convey the tender feelings of the gentlest female heart, scowled with the dark expression of envy. Adelaide, turning her eyes on her face, met that glance, and sighing to see the youthful bloom of this fair creature deformed by malevolent emotions, felt for her the pity of a superior nature, that from its own beatitude beholds the fretful passions of a being incessantly employed in weaving the web of its own misery, and mourns that it may not save the wretched victim from its self-destroying arts.

My soul, though feminine and weak, Can image his; even as the lake, Itself disturb'd by slightest stroke, Reflects the invulnerable rock.

Mr. Webberly's attentions were as incessant as disgusting, and to her astonishment his mother no longer gave them overt opposition. His sisters, on the contrary, were more than ever devoured by "proud spleen and burning envy;" but they excited in her mind only the most profound compassion. Pity is said to be near akin to love; it is sometimes however very closely allied to that mournful pardon we grant to a character, whose irremediable defects excite our unqualified hopeless disapprobation.

But as Mrs. Sullivan was on one point alone entitled to respect, and even there imperfectly, Adelaide had now a hard task to perform--namely, to fortify herself once more with indifference to all her associates. Her feelings had been awakened from their temporary torpor by her visit to the Temples, and she now felt it most painful to lower them to the icy temperature they had attained in the soul-benumbing atmosphere of Webberly House. "However, I must only play the dormouse, and, like it, having gone through a few months' torpidity, I shall then wake to an existence of positive enjoyment."

Mrs. Sullivan, during Miss Wildenheim's absence, had become conscious of the value of her decorum of manner; for besides the attention it prompted this young lady to pay her, as due to the person under whose roof she resided, it acted as a restraint on the rudeness of her daughters, who, when unshackled by the presence of an example of propriety in their domestic scene, opposed their mother in every trifle with the most perverse obstinacy. Mr. Webberly, as soon as he had been refused by Selina, told his mother, in the first effusions of his wounded pride, he was determined to marry Miss Wildenheim directly. "He was rich enough to please himself after all; he was sure she was a far personabler woman than Miss Seymour, though Miss did think no small beer of herself." As he could not have Selina, his mother now wished him to marry his cousin Miss Leatherly, who was nearly as rich, though she had not the advantages of connection, that had won her pride to prefer Miss Seymour. She had long delayed her answer to Adelaide's letter, determining she should seek another home; but her son declared if she did not bring her to Ireland, he would not go either, but would remain in whatever place she resided till she was of age, and then it would not be in his mother's power to prevent their marriage. Mrs. Sullivan, alarmed at this menace, determined no longer to use open opposition, but to trust to chance and the possibility of Miss Wildenheim's own pride assisting her to defeat his wishes; therefore offered to compromise the matter, by saying she would bring Miss Wildenheim with her to Ireland, on condition he did not actually propose for her till the period fixed for their return to England, promising she would do nothing to prevent his paying her what attentions he pleased; but, at the same time giving him to understand, the match would never receive her approbation, reminding him that a ten thousand pound fortune with a wife was nothing! and that he had little now left but what she pleased to give him. Mr. Webberly had found out from Selina's conduct, it was possible he might be refused; therefore, yielding in part to his mother's wishes, acknowledging, on second thoughts, a little delay would be no bad thing, as it might enable him to conquer his mistress's resentment for his having transferred his attention elsewhere, which he elegantly expressed, by saying "In the first brush of the thing she may cuff off her nose to punish her face."

The carriage windows were no sooner drawn up, to put an end to the clamour occasioned by such squabbles on the outside, than the usual contentions were renewed within, which seldom ceased till the time for wrangling with the ostlers arrived again, for which a scold to the last turnpike keeper, for the badness of the roads, in proportion to the high tolls, served as a prelude. However, they at last reached Holyhead: as Adelaide skipped into the inn, overjoyed to be comparatively at liberty, she exclaimed, in thought, "Thank goodness, so much of my Purgatory is over! Why Webberly House was Heaven to this! However we shall travel only a small portion of the time I am to spend in penance for my sins.--They will all be sea-sick to-morrow, and then I shall have a few hours' peace."

Now hoist the sail, and let the streamers float Upon the wanton breezes; strew the deck With lavender, and sprinkle liquid sweets, That no rude savour maritime invade The nose of nice nobility.

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