The adroitness with which he recommended Blanche to her father's generosity, showed how affection will sharpen the wits, and make even the most candid people cunning, to attain their ends. He knew that Mrs. Vyner had too much need of money, not to grudge any bestowed upon the girls; and that Vyner himself was little likely to suffer his regard for his child, such as it was, to withstand his wife's persuasion. Therefore, to have pleaded in Blanche's favour, would have been to call down certain defeat. Instead of that, he adroitly assumed that Vyner could not need any intercession—could not, as a father, do otherwise than pardon his daughter. To refuse the pardon, would therefore be to act contrary to all expectation. The question was thus not discussed, but settled.
The second point in his letter is, the journey to Italy: that needs only a very brief comment: he hoped, in the confusion of foreign scenes, to distract his thoughts from grief.
Farewell, then, thou brave, honest, self-sacrificing man! May travel bring oblivion! may time bring consolation to thy sad and noble heart!
BOOK III.
CHAPTER I.
ROSE VYNER TO FANNY WORSLEY.
WYTTON HALL, 14th Oct. 1840.
MY DEAR FANNY,
Since poor Blanche's unfortunate marriage—and yet why should I call it unfortunate? has she not married the man of her choice, and is not that the great ideal we maidens all aspire to? However, as it is the fashion here to speak of it as a "most unfortunate business," over which mama weeps (I don't clearly see why) and papa storms, I have caught the trick, and called it so to you.
To resume this broken sentence; or rather to begin it anew: since Blanche's fortunate marriage, our days have passed equably enough; but although not characterized by any "incidents," nor affording any "news," they have not been stupid. Life has not been stagnant. The slow growth of passions has proceeded without interruption. Marmaduke Ashley has become the devoted slave of Violet. I call him her Brazilian Othello. I made her very angry yesterday, by telling her that she should be less cruelly haughty to him, "for is he not," said I, "a man and a brother?" They would make a superb couple, for although I tease her with references to gentlemen of colour, and with congratulatory remarks respecting the chain being "broken, and Africa being free," you must know that his complexion is not really darker than that of a Spaniard. And you know how lovely she is—no you don't, you have not seen her since she shook off girlish things, and cannot imagine how she has altered.