Chapter XVI.
The Imprudence of Prudence.
"I never heard tell of such a Thing in my Life!" cried I, breathlessly.
"Ah, I knew you'd say so," said Prudence, lapsing into Tears. "It was so very silly."
"Silly? Wicked! Such a Mockery! You don't call it a real Marriage, I hope!"
"Oh dear, no. But if you were in my Place, you wouldn't consider yourself at Liberty to marry another?"
"I can't fancy myself in your Place, Prudence! I would not have done such a Thing for the World! Certainly, I could not consider myself free! Nor him secure! Fleet Marriages, I know, are binding in Law; but there's no Religion in them. Have you got a Certificate?"
"Oh yes, a License, and a Certificate, and a Crown Stamp that cost a Guinea; and a Ring—"
"That cost Two-pence! All of a Piece with the Rest. I never knew such a Jumble in all my Life! Never!"
"It was great Folly—"
"You know, Prue, what Mr. Fenwick told us Folly is synonymous with in Scripture—Sin. 'The Foolishness of Fools is Folly'—He told us that was the same as 'the Foolishness of Fools is Sin.'"
"Oh, Patty, don't trample upon me, now I'm down. I've vexed enough about it, already. That is, I've vexed about what you, and Mother, and Father, would think of it; for I must say, I'm glad to be secure of Tom against he next comes Home—"
"You might have been secure of him already; if his Love was worth Anything, which I can readily believe it to be. You might have trusted him."
"I might; and he me. It was only the Folly of a Moment."
"Ah, Prue, how often has the Folly of a Moment been the Ruin of a Life! This Man was a Clergyman, I suppose?"
"Oh yes, no doubt of that. He was a Reverend Mr. Sympson, of some College, Cambridge, and late Chaplain of the Earl of Rothes. So he said."
"That's well put in."
"Well, he looked quite respectable, and you know there are many Clergy within the Rules. Don't be too suspicious, Patty."
"Why, haven't I good Reason to be, Prue? Only it's all too late, now—Oh dear me!" And I groaned heavily.
"Yes, it's all too late now," said Prue rapidly, "and I meant no Harm, and we must make the best of it, and I feel a great Load off my Mind, now I've told you—"
"Why, you've only shifted it from your own Mind to mine! I don't feel at all obliged to you!"
"Well, perhaps poor Mother might say the same; so we had better not tell her."
"Oh, Prue, Prue! how one Sin leads to another! The Case is quite different. She has a right to her Child's Confidence."
"Why, you don't tell her Everything, do you?"
"What have I ever concealed?"
"That you care about Mr. Fenwick."
The Blood rushed to my Face, though we were in the Dark. "That's quite another Matter," said I. "You don't know that I care for him."
"Oh Patty! how can you say so?"
"At all Events, he has never shown me any decided Preference that would justify me, as a modest young Woman, in letting his Name escape my Lips. You know, Prudence, how different the Cases are. Certainly, if my dear Mother, who is all Kindness and Truth, were to think fit to speak to me on that or any similar Subject, I might blush, I might shed a Tear, I might feel very uncomfortable, but I should answer her with perfect Sincerity."
"Ah Patty! you are very good—And I am very bad—"
"Nay, I won't hear you say that of yourself. You have certainly been very, very foolish."
"And 'the Foolishness of Fools is Sin.'" Here she again wept.
"Well, Prue, if it be so, still we know what is to be done."
"What? Oh, tell me!"
"'I will arise, and go unto my Father, and will say unto him—'"
"Oh, not to my Father!"
"'To my Mother, and will say unto her, Mother, I have....'"
My own Tears here burst forth. I believe they, and the few Words of the Text I had cited proved the best Eloquence; for in an Instant Prue was clinging to me, choking in Tears, and saying, "I will! I will!"
Overcome by our Emotions, we said no more till we slept, I holding her to my Heart, full of Love and Pity, though perturbed beyond Expression at her Conduct.
My Father requiring so much of our Care, it was seldom that we were all three together; however, the next Day, after he had dined with more Comfort to himself than usual, he folded his Hands together and said, "Thank God for my good Dinner! And now I'll have a Nap, and you may all go down Stairs till I pull the Bell."
Some trifling Affair prevented my immediately joining my Mother and Sister. When I went into the Parlour, I found Prue had just screwed her Courage to the Point of Confession. "Mother," she was saying, "I've done so wrong—" and began to cry.
"What is it, Prue?" said my Mother gently, who was blanching Almonds.
"Say first, Mother, that you'll forgive me—"
"Nay, let me first hear what I have to forgive. I am not such a very unforgiving Person, Child, am I?"
"No indeed, Mother!" kissing her Hand. "But oh! I don't know what you'll say! I'm engaged to Tom!"
"I guessed as much long ago," said my Mother coolly.
"You did!"
"Yes—you were very poor Secret-keepers, Prue; clumsy Adepts in Concealment! I guessed, ever since he went, that that Glass Ring was a Love-token."
Prue blushed very deeply. "Ah," said she, fluttering, and looking with downcast Fondness on the slighted Bauble, "it is a Love-token, indeed, Mother! and even more than that."
"What more?" said my Mother quickly. Prudence was silent.
"You don't mean, Prudence," with some Agitation in her Tone, "that it's a Wedding Ring?"
"What if it were, dear Mother?" (faltering)—"Should you be very angry?"
"I should be angry and hurt—deeply hurt!"
"Ah—" Prue, who was kneeling beside my Mother, turned her Head aside and looked into the Fire.
"Speak, Patty!" said my Mother, much perturbed, "and tell me if you can—since your Sister will not—Has there been a Marriage?"
"A Fleet-Marriage, or Something of that Sort," said I, reluctantly.
"A Fleet-Marriage?" cried my Mother, holding up her Hands, and sinking back in her Chair.
"Mother! Mother! hear me," cries Prue, casting her Arms across my Mother's knees and looking up at her. "We parted at the Church-door,—House-door, I mean; we knew we were only engaged; we did not look on it as a regular Marriage,—only as binding us together a little—it was the Thought of a Moment—Tom proposed it first—"
"I suppose so," said my Mother, with a Tone of infinite Scorn; "but I little thought that a Daughter of mine could be so persuaded. Oh Prue, Prue! I never could have believed it of you! No Wonder you have gone about sighing and hanging your Head—it has been your only Act of Grace."
Prue, humiliated beyond Expression at these Reproaches, was crying silently—"Don't tell my Father," at length said she.
"Certainly I shall not," said my Mother, still chafed. "I should be quite ashamed of mentioning such a disgraceful Transaction to him—worthier of a Wapping Sailor than of his Brother's Son—Mate to a respectable Merchant Vessel. A Thing only done by the Lowest of the Low—"
"And a few of the Highest of the High," put in I.
"Who thereby reduce themselves to an ignominious Level with the Lowest of the Low," persisted my Mother. "It ought to be put down by Act of Parliament! It will shortly, I understand from Dr. Elwes, who was speaking of the Abuse a little While ago, little thinking that a Culprit stood in his Presence. I never could have believed it of Tom! never have supposed that he could so abuse a Mother's Confidence, and sail off, leaving Dissimulation and Discord behind him—he that used to say 'he couldn't bear to put People to the least Inconvenience!'"
At the Recurrence to this old Catch-Word of his, Prue and I could neither of us help bursting out laughing. My Mother, quite against her Will, was obliged to laugh too. At this Moment, the Door opened; and who should come in but Gatty!
I sprang towards her, while Prue, with a brief Word in passing, took the Opportunity to escape.
"Are you not afraid of coming near me?" said Gatty smiling, as I kissed her.
"Oh no! Our Time came long ago; no Danger of Infection here! But, dear Gatty, we have been in such Suspense about you! Have you not been ill?"
"No, I have been mercifully preserved—James told me you had sent to inquire how I was getting on; and as Lady Betty is a good deal softened towards me just now, I had not much Difficulty in prevailing with her to let me come out for a few Hours, and I thought I would put your Fears at rest by coming to you."
Finding she could stay, we made her remove her damp Cloak and Calash, and take an early Dish of Tea with us. We had a long Fireside Chat; and my Mother at length going up to my Father, who had slept long, Gatty became more unreserved with me, and I soon drew from her all that had happened.
It appeared that Mr. Heavitree had proposed to her during their Walk from Roaring House; but she then considered herself engaged for the Time to Lady Betty, so as she could not in Honour nor Justice draw back; and therefore she would not hear of giving up her Journey to Town, though she promised to give Lady Betty Notice that she should leave her Service as soon as her Ladyship was suited. On the following Day, when they journeyed together, Mr. Heavitree renewed his Suit, and obtained from her that she would quit Lady Betty at the very earliest Day she decently could; after which they talked over their Prospect of mutual Happiness with great Satisfaction, till the Coach overturned. When Gatty reached Town and found Lady Betty in the Small-Pox, she was a good deal astounded, not being quite clear whether she were exempt from it or not; however, she thought her Duty lay plainly before her, and embraced it with as good a Grace as she could. Being her Ladyship's sole Attendant, her Post was arduous; however, she filled it so as to secure very thorough Satisfaction, though very little Gratitude; Lady Betty being one of those who think Gold can requite any Amount of Obligation; at least, as far as the Lower Orders are concerned. And what Amount of Gold, then, had my Lady bestowed on the young Creature who, under Providence, had saved her Life at the Risk of her own? An Annuity? A Purse full of Guineas? No such Thing! An old Gold Snuff-Box, presented to her Ladyship's Grandfather by the obscure Members of some forgotten Corporation! A Thing of no earthly Consideration to her Ladyship; though Gatty guessed that if sold by the Ounce, it might fetch her seven or perhaps ten Guineas.
But Lady Betty was in a dreadful Way about her Face—all marked and seamed; and her fine Complexion quite gone! And though, Gatty said, 'twas hoped when the Redness had gone off, that she would not look so bad, yet the Disorder had left an Impress of Ordinariness, of Commoness behind it, as is not unfrequent, that went sadly against the Stomach of my Lady. And when I said I should have thought that a Personage who set such Store by herself, would have been blinded by Self-prepossession, to any falling off, Gatty said 'twas quite the other Way; for her Ladyship was so well acquainted with every good Point about her, that she was Lynx-eyed to the smallest Deficience, and more intolerant of it than any indifferent Party could be. Whereby it befel that she was ready to dash into Pieces every Looking-glass in the House, and would have them covered up, and would only sit in a Chamber artfully darkened, and would not for the Present let any Man get Sight of her, nor even any of her favourite female Friends, though she was quite well enough to receive them, so much dreaded she their spreading disparaging Reports. She meant to go down to some Watering-place where she was unknown, and there lead a hermetical Life directly the Weather was fine enough; having a Notion that the Sea Air would take off the Redness. Meanwhile, she kept Gatty on hard Duty all Day long, playing Picquet and reading Novels; and Gatty said she only wished they were in some Language she did not understand, for she feared so much trashy Reading must impair her Mind in spite of her Repugnance to it. And when my Lady had Nothing better to do, she abused Gatty for not tying her Hands when she was worst at all Hazards, rather than let her tear at her Face like as one would hackle Flax; averring it would have been better to die than to live such a Fright. However, Gatty said she knew that had not been her Ladyship's Mind at the Time, and she did not consider that she should have been borne out in it. She said she had now learnt at last the Value of Lap-dogs and Parrots, for they helped to divert Lady Betty from her mortifying Reflections more than Anything else. And there was this Good gained, that my Lady now always made her begin and end the Day with reading Prayers and a Chapter; and though she did not seem to attend much, yet Nobody knew but some good Word might make itself heard at last.
Having thus relieved her Mind, Gatty was inclined to hear of our own Affairs while we were taking Tea. She was very sorry to hear of my Father's sad Accident; and, learning from Prue that he would be very glad to shake Hands with her if she did not mind going into his sick-Chamber, where he was now promoted to an easy Chair by the Fire, she stepped up to him with me, and enlivened him for Half-an-Hour with her cheerful Talk. Of course he rallied her about Mr. Heavitree,—that was to be expected,—but she took it very bravely, and gave him back Quip for Crank; yet all so modest and innocent-spoken, as the Jest of a Girl like Gatty was certain to be. And somehow, by Way of Lady Betty, she got round, quite naturally, to Something serious, about Life and Death, Judgment and Eternity, that my Father took better of her than he would have done from us, and that left us all with our Minds in a State of serious Composedness.
