Manners: A Novel, Vol 1

by Madame Panache

The first year that Mordaunt had been at college, Lord Osselstone had made no advance towards cultivating the acquaintance that had so inauspiciously commenced; for, except a very slight salutation in an accidental meeting in the street, Augustus had received no mark whatever even of recognizance. And perhaps this inattention was rendered still more mortifying, as whenever Lord Osselstone was in the neighbourhood of Oxford, he generally received a great deal of company at his house; and several of the young men there, whose connections were amongst his Lordship's associates in London, procured introductions to him, and frequently partook of the elegant hospitality, that always graced his table. Nay, many members of the very college Augustus was in, and some of his own particular friends, received constant invitations to Osselstone Park, from which he alone seemed to be invidiously excluded. On Mordaunt's return to college the following year, he had been much surprised by receiving, in the course of the last week of a term, a formal but polite card of invitation to dinner, to which he sent a still more formal apology, being most happy to have it in his power to allege his intended return to Deane Hall as his excuse; and accordingly he left Oxford the very day, that had been named by his uncle for receiving him. Not, however, that he returned immediately to the Hall. Augustus, though abhorring the excesses into which so many of his contemporaries thoughtlessly plunged, was still not averse to taste slightly the cup of pleasure, if placed within his reach; and, therefore, usually adopted the geography most in fashion at Oxford, by which it is ascertained to a demonstration, that London is the direct road from thence to every other place in England. He had not then been taught, that the deprivation of Selina Seymour's society for a little fortnight was an irreparable loss; and the theatres and the delights of London were sufficiently new to him, to beguile that, and even a longer time. It was just that season of the year when a London winter begins to subside, not into a healthy spring, but into an unwelcome summer, and when the dying embers of gaiety are only kept alive by a few forced sparks of unwearied dissipation. But to Augustus, who had not glared in the full flame, even these had charms; and he frequented, with unsatiated pleasure, all the places of public amusement then open.

One night at the opera, whither he had repaired with some of his college friends in a state of exhilaration, that, though it fell far short of intoxication, was equally different from his usual tone of spirits, while he was standing in the outer room laughing rather vociferously at some ridiculous observation of his companions, his eye suddenly rested on the face of Lord Osselstone, who, with an unmoved countenance and steady gaze, had been scrutinizing the groupe with minute attention, while they were totally unconscious of his proximity. Augustus's colour rose; and a confused idea that he was the peculiar object of his uncle's observation crossing his mind, he rather increased than restrained the vivacity of his manner. "Lord Osselstone's carriage stops the way," was repeated from stage to stage of the echoing stair-case; and, while the Earl passed close to Mordaunt as he proceeded to obey the clamorous summons, he stopped deliberately, and observing that "Mr. Mordaunt's visit to Sir Henry Seymour had been a much shorter one than usual," made him a low bow, and pursued his way without waiting for a reply; which, in Mordaunt's then state of mind, would probably not have been an amicable one, indignant as he felt at Lord Osselstone's conveying his only acknowledgement of him in the form of an implied reproof. Here then, once more, ended all intercourse between uncle and nephew; for, when Augustus again returned to college, the invitation had not been renewed; and though in the last examination he had received three several prizes, and with them the compliments of all his friends, Lord Osselstone had witnessed his triumph in silence, though it happened he was in Oxford, nay, even in the school, that very day.

On Mordaunt's arrival at Oxford, at the conclusion of his late northern tour, his thoughts were so completely preoccupied, that he did not even take the trouble of inquiring whether the Earl was then in the neighbourhood. But as he was one evening sauntering along a retired road on the banks of the river, attending more to the painful reflections of his own mind than to a book which he mechanically held in his hand, he was suddenly roused from his meditations by the sound of a carriage coming furiously behind him; and, turning round, perceived a gentleman alone in a curricle, the horses of which were approaching at their utmost speed, and evidently ungovernable. The furious animals were making directly towards the river, and, if their course was not impeded, immediate destruction inevitably awaited their unfortunate driver. This reflection, and his consequent determination, was but a momentary effort of Augustus's mind. Throwing away his book, he sprang into the middle of the road; and, though the gentleman loudly exclaimed, "Take care of yourself—I cannot manage them," he deliberately kept his stand, and, at the moment the horses reached the spot, dexterously succeeded in grasping the reins, and stopping the carriage. The suddenness of the jolt, however, unfortunately broke the axle-tree, and threw the gentleman at a little distance on the road. A deep groan instantaneously followed his fall; and Augustus felt a painful conviction, that though his presence of mind had certainly saved the stranger's life at the imminent risk of his own, yet the very act had been the cause of much apparent suffering to him. He hesitated what to do:—the horses, still more frightened by the noise made by the breaking of the carriage, were almost furious; and it was as much as he could do to retain his hold, while the poor suffering man lay helplessly on the road. At length two grooms appeared, rapidly pursuing each other, with marks of the utmost consternation in their countenances; and while one jumped off his horse to assist his master, the other relieved Augustus from his troublesome charge. The Osselstone liveries proclaimed the stranger's name, as Augustus had not yet seen his face, and the discovery but increased his distress:—"Good God, my uncle! Are you much hurt, dear sir?" exclaimed he, in a tone of commiseration, almost of affection. At the sound of his voice the Earl languidly turned his head as his servant supported him; and, stretching out one hand, grasped that of Augustus, expressing tacitly, but not ineloquently, his gratitude to his preserver. Augustus flew to the side of the river, and bringing some water in his hat, sprinkled it over his face, which in a few moments so revived him, that he was able to articulate thanks, which Augustus, with looks of kindest anxiety, interrupted, with inquiries as to the injury he had evidently received in his fall. He soon found that one arm was broken, and Lord Osselstone otherwise so much hurt, that it was difficult to move him from the position in which he lay. Without, therefore, an instant's deliberation, and scarcely explaining his design, he sprang on one of the groom's horses, and was in a few moments out of sight. Indeed, so rapid were his movements, that before it could be conjectured that he had even reached Oxford, he was seen returning in a hired chaise and four, accompanied by one of the first surgeons of that town, bringing with him every thing necessary for the accommodation of his uncle.

Before they attempted to remove Lord Osselstone, the fractured bone was set; and the attendants then carefully assisting him into the carriage, the surgeon took his place at one side of him, while Mordaunt, uninvited, supported him on the other; and then desiring the drivers to proceed carefully to Osselstone Park, left the grooms to take charge of the broken equipage.

Though Augustus had never been before within the gates of this residence of his ancestors, its magnificent scenery had not the power to withdraw his attention, for one moment, from its suffering master. In addition to the natural benevolence of his heart, which would have led him to pity any fellow-creature in a similar situation, from a refinement of feeling, he experienced an additional though certainly an unnecessary pang, from having been in any degree accessary to the present pain; and his judicious and unremitting care resembled that of a son to a beloved father. He watched by his uncle's bed all night, and could scarcely be prevailed upon to leave it to take any nourishment, till the surgeon, on the third day, pronounced the Earl out of danger.

Meantime Lord Osselstone, from whose lips no complaint ever escaped, however painful the operations he underwent, observed every change of his nephew's countenance with a scrutinizing attention; and when in a few days he was able to sit up, and enter into discourse, the modest good sense of Augustus's remarks, animated as they sometimes were by occasional bursts of a genius not quite dissimilar to his own, seemed not entirely to escape his Lordship's observation. As soon, however, as the Earl was able to leave his room, Augustus took his leave, alleging as his excuse for not accepting Lord Osselstone's polite invitation to protract his stay, that his services could be no longer useful; which was indeed his only motive for so soon separating from his uncle, of whom he now thought with far different feelings than he had done formerly—so natural is it to the human mind, to imbibe a partiality for those we have had it in our power to benefit.

These feelings were, however, soon damped by the receipt of the following note, accompanied by a beautiful edition of Horace, and some other of the classics:—

"Lord Osselstone presents his compliments to Mr. Mordaunt, and has the honour of sending him a few books, of which he requests his acceptance, in return for his late obliging attentions."

"My attentions are not to be purchased," exclaimed Augustus, as he, perhaps too indignantly, tore the note. "Nor," added he, with a sigh, "are my affections likely to be gained by my noble uncle." Then hastily writing the following answer, he returned with it the books by the servant who brought them:—

"Mr. Mordaunt presents his compliments to Lord Osselstone, and begs to assure him, that any attentions he had it in his power to show his Lordship were at the moment sufficiently repaid by the belief, that he in any degree contributed to the comfort of his uncle."