"Never more will I flirt with Tom Pynsent, oh, never, never!" exclaimed Julia, throwing her arms again round Anna Maria's waist. "If I had known you cared for him, I would not have chatted as I did last night with Tom. Oh, Anna, how you must have suffered, yet how calm you appeared!"
"I care not who engrosses his attention," replied her sister, as the colour rose and subsided in her cheeks. "I care not who loves him, or is loved by him: I am jealous of no one: I love in hopelessness and misery, and he shall never know my agony. Take care, Julia, how you trifle with Lord Ennismore; these hateful flirtations destroy each other's repose; how selfish, how cruel!" Anna Maria shuddered as she spoke.
"I will not try to attach Lord Ennismore," cried Julia, in earnest accents: "your distress has cured me of all intentions; but speak to papa, Anna Maria, and he will keep Tom Pynsent from the house. You know how kind he always is."
"Not for worlds!" cried Anna Maria, starting up, "not for worlds, Julia! let no one know I am wretched—let no one pity me, or dare to comfort me but yourself—promise, promise me, on your honour."
She took Julia's clasped hands in her own, and, with an impetuosity belonging to her irritable nature, she exacted a solemn vow of silence. Julia gave her assurances with regret, but the vow passed her lips, and from her the secret never transpired. She was the soul of honour in those matters.
After this confidential disclosure on the part of her eldest sister, Julia repulsed every attention offered by Tom Pynsent, and firmly resisted his efforts to attract her notice. Young Pynsent was astonished by a style of manner so suddenly adopted, and so perseveringly kept up towards himself, and at first he resented the cold indifference by an equal display of composed carelessness; but its pertinacity at length piqued his vanity, and in the end produced a watchfulness which engrossed his whole soul.
Had Julia flirted on with Tom Pynsent, his heart would have been untouched; and his mind, perfectly aware of Lady Wetheral's schemes, had remained free to sport amid the beauty which surrounded him. But Julia's manners, so unaffected, so perfectly guileless, showed such unequivocal avoidance of his society, that vanity took the alarm, and conducted her victim to the very snare he had so long observed and ridiculed. To be disliked by a Wetheral, when all the Shropshire world knew he had long been a favourite speculation of her ladyship—it was not to be endured, and, coûte que coûte, Tom Pynsent vowed to subdue the cold heart of Julia Wetheral.
Tom Pynsent was not an Apollo, nor did he possess the fascination of more courtly men, to make the subjugation of a lady's heart the amusement of a leisure hour. Tom Pynsent was good-looking, tall, broad set, and loud in speech, as Julia had described him: he was also empty, good-natured, and immoderately fond of fox-hunting. His very large fortune in perspective gave him the entrée of the neighbourhood at all hours, and if Tom Pynsent failed in the soft elegance of speech, or appeared to some disadvantage in the ball-room among his more polished companions, yet upon his attentions were the eyes of woman taught to rest; and many a glance of admiration was bestowed upon the uncouth, ill-dressed Tom Pynsent, which other more gifted swains failed to obtain.
It was the fate of Anna Maria to love this man; and while the cold, stiff manners of the beautiful Miss Wetheral, chilled the approach of distant admirers, her heart was sincerely and really given to Tom Pynsent. It is in vain to argue upon love, which arises from a thousand causes unconnected with personal appearance. Love takes a thousand forms, and defies the power of reason. When Shakespeare gave the "Weaver" charms in the eyes of Titania, he illustrated at once its blindness and its intensity. Tom Pynsent might have sought and won the heart and taste of Miss Wycherly, who regularly attended the hunt and broke in her own carriage horses, but who could suppose he had power to captivate the gentle and graceful Miss Wetheral?
Lady Spottiswoode was celebrated for the agreeability and number of her carpet dances. Every fortnight produced a gay society at her large mansion in Shrewsbury; and at her parties the county families mixed occasionally with the more humble inhabitants of the town. It was this very mixture which gave Lady Spottiswoode's parties their decided superiority over those of the neighbourhood; for at her house she possessed the advantage of numbers, and she congregated more youth, beauty, and novelty than her country neighbours could ever boast at their élite, but smaller, and less pleasant meetings.