Camilla; or, A Picture of Youth

by Fanny Burney

Mr. Tyrold would not suffer this scene to be long uninterrupted; he entered, with a cheering countenance, that compelled them to dry their tears, and told them the Westwyns could not much longer be left out, though they remained, well contented, for the present, with Miss Margland and his other daughters. 'Melmond and Indiana,' added he, smiling, 'seem at present not beings of this lower sphere, nor to have a moment to spare for those who are.'

'That, my dear brother,' answered the Baronet, 'is all my comfort; for as to all the rest of my marrying, you see what it's come to! who could have thought of young Mr. Edgar's turning out in the same way? I can't say but what I take it pretty unkind of him, letting me prepare at this rate for nothing; besides Beech Park's being within but a stone's throw, as one may say, as well as his own agreeableness. However, now I've seen a little more of the world, I can't say I find much difference between the good and the bad, with respect to their all doing alike. The young boys now-a-days, whatever's come to 'em, don't know what they'd be at. They think nothing of disappointing a person if once they've a mind to change their minds. All one's preparations go for nothing; which they never think of.'

Mr. Tyrold now prevailed for the re-admission of Mr. Westwyn, who was accompanied by his son, and followed by the Cleves family.

The cheeks of Camilla recovered their usual hue at the sight of Henry, from the various interesting recollections which occurred with it. She was seen herself with their original admiration, both by the father and the son, though with the former it was now mingled with anger, and with the latter no longer gilded with hope. Yet the complaints against her, which, upon his arrival, Mr. Westwyn meant to make, were soon not merely relinquished, but transformed into pity, upon the view of her dejected countenance, and silent melancholy.

The Baronet, however, revived again, by seeing his old friend, whose humour so much resembled his own, that, in Yorkshire, he had been always his first favourite. Each the children of untutored nature, honest and open alike in their words and their dealings, their characters and their propensities were nearly the same, though Sir Hugh, more self-formed, had a language and manner of his own; and Mr. Westwyn, of a temper less equal and less gentle, gave way, as they arose, to such angry passions as the indulgent Baronet never felt.

'My dear friend,' said Mr. Westwyn, 'you don't take much notice of my Hal, though, I'll give you my word, you won't see such another young fellow every day. However, it's as well not, before his face, for it might only make him think himself somebody: and that, while I am alive, I don't intend he should do. I can't bear a young fellow not dutiful. I've always a bad opinion of him. I can't say he pleases me.'

'My dear Westwyn,' answered the Baronet, 'I've no doubt but what master Hal is very good, for which I am truly glad. But as to much over-rejoicing, now, upon the score of young boys, it's what I can't do, seeing they've turned out so ill, one after another, as far as I have had to do with them; for which, however, I hope I bear 'em no malice. They've enough to answer for without that, which, I hope, they'll think of in time.'

'Why to be sure, Sir Hugh, if you set about thinking of a young fellow by the pattern of my friend Clermont, I can't say I'm much surprised you don't care to give him a good word; I can't say I am. I am pretty much of the same way of thinking. I love to speak the truth.' He then took Mr. Tyrold apart, and ran on with a history of all he had gathered, while at Leipsic, of the conduct and way of life of Clermont Lynmere. 'He was a disgrace,' said he, 'even to the English name, as a Professor told me, that I can't remember the name of, it's so prodigious long; but, if it had not been for my son, he told me, they'd have thought all the English young fellows good for nothing, except extravagance, and eating and drinking! "They'd all round have got an ill name," says he, "if it had not been for your son," were his words which I shall never forget. I sent him over a noble pipe of Madeira, which I'd just got for myself, as soon as I came home. I took to him very much, I can't say but I did; he was a very good man; he had prodigiously the look of an Englishman. He said Hal was an ornament to the university. I took it very well of him. I wish he had not such a hard name. I can never call it to mind. I hate a hard name. I can never speak it without a blunder.'

Sir Hugh now, who had been talking with Henry, called upon Mr. Westwyn, to beg his pardon for not speaking of him more respectfully, saying: 'I see he's quite agreeable, which I should have noticed from the first, only being what I did not know; which I hope is my excuse; my head, my dear friend, not getting on much, in point of quickness: though I can't say it's for want of pains, since you and I used to live so much together; but to no great end, for I always find myself in the back, however it happens: which your son, Master Hal, is, I see, quite the contrary.'

Mr. Westwyn was so much gratified by this praise, that he immediately confessed the scheme and wish he had formed of marrying Hal to Camilla, only for her not approving it. Sir Hugh protested nothing could give him more pleasure than such a connexion, and significantly added, he had other nieces, besides Camilla.