Mr. Webberly's attentions were as incessant as disgusting, and to her astonishment his mother no longer gave them overt opposition. His sisters, on the contrary, were more than ever devoured by "proud spleen and burning envy;" but they excited in her mind only the most profound compassion. Pity is said to be near akin to love; it is sometimes however very closely allied to that mournful pardon we grant to a character, whose irremediable defects excite our unqualified hopeless disapprobation.
As for Mrs. Sullivan, Adelaide felt grieved she could not like her, for she at least had the feelings of a mother; and where is the character so degraded, that these will not give a claim to our love, to our veneration? When she saw this poor woman, full of love and pride in her elder children, pour forth her fondness on them, and saw the ungrateful objects of her tenderness insultingly disdain it, because it did not appear in the language and gestures of what they supposed to be fashion, she redoubled her attentions, and her sweetly soothing manners, sometimes chased the starting tears from the offended mother's eye, sometimes made them flow from the bitterness of the comparison they caused her to make. But when, softened by compassion, Adelaide was reproaching herself for her want of liking to a woman, who, though a mistaken, was an affectionate mother, some trait of ostentatious arrogant despotism to those not united by ties of relationship sent her benevolent feelings, with accelerated motion, back to the source of kindness from whence they had begun to flow. Vulgarity alone was no crime in her mind; she considered it merely as an accident to which certain conditions are liable, and, therefore, when it was an accompaniment of worth, she did not dare to feel it a fit subject of contempt. She was too noble in soul, too pious in heart, to presume on her accidental advantages of education, to despise "the pure in spirit," who are, however lowly in earthly station, glorious in the approving smile of Heaven.
But as Mrs. Sullivan was on one point alone entitled to respect, and even there imperfectly, (for, owing to the mercenary artifices of her elder daughters, she was nearly indifferent to Caroline,) Adelaide had now a hard task to perform—namely, to fortify herself once more with indifference to all her associates. Her feelings had been awakened from their temporary torpor by her visit to the Temples, and she now felt it most painful to lower them to the icy temperature they had attained in the soul-benumbing atmosphere of Webberly House. "However, (thought she,) I must only play the dormouse, and, like it, having gone through a few months' torpidity, I shall then wake to an existence of positive enjoyment."
Mrs. Sullivan, during Miss Wildenheim's absence, had become conscious of the value of her decorum of manner; for besides the attention it prompted this young lady to pay her, as due to the person under whose roof she resided, it acted as a restraint on the rudeness of her daughters, who, when unshackled by the presence of an example of propriety in their domestic scene, opposed their mother in every trifle with the most perverse obstinacy. Mr. Webberly, as soon as he had been refused by Selina, told his mother, in the first effusions of his wounded pride, he was determined to marry Miss Wildenheim directly. "He was rich enough to please himself after all; he was sure she was a far personabler woman than Miss Seymour, though Miss did think no small beer of herself." As he could not have Selina, his mother now wished him to marry his cousin Miss Leatherly, who was nearly as rich, though she had not the advantages of connection, that had won her pride to prefer Miss Seymour. She had long delayed her answer to Adelaide's letter, determining she should seek another home; but her son declared if she did not bring her to Ireland, he would not go either, but would remain in whatever place she resided till she was of age, and then it would not be in his mother's power to prevent their marriage. Mrs. Sullivan, alarmed at this menace, determined no longer to use open opposition, but to trust to chance and the possibility of Miss Wildenheim's own pride assisting her to defeat his wishes; therefore offered to compromise the matter, by saying she would bring Miss Wildenheim with her to Ireland, on condition he did not actually propose for her till the period fixed for their return to England, promising she would do nothing to prevent his paying her what attentions he pleased; but, at the same time giving him to understand, the match would never receive her approbation, reminding him that a ten thousand pound fortune with a wife was nothing! and that he had little now left but what she pleased to give him. Mr. Webberly had found out from Selina's conduct, it was possible he might be refused; therefore, yielding in part to his mother's wishes, acknowledging, on second thoughts, a little delay would be no bad thing, as it might enable him to conquer his mistress's resentment for his having transferred his attention elsewhere, which he elegantly expressed, by saying "In the first brush of the thing she may cuff off her nose to punish her face."
Our travellers proceeded on their journey with the most dissimilar feelings possible. Mrs. Sullivan enjoying the idea of the fortune this expedition would secure to Caroline—the Miss Webberlys, in sullen discontent, were forming schemes to make their mother return as soon as possible to the neighbourhood of London, supposing the society of Ballinamoyle must be still more insipid than that in the vicinity of Webberly House—their brother engaged in promoting the success of his passion for Adelaide, she not less so in keeping him at a distance, and in the endeavour to divert her thoughts from her companions to the country they passed through—Caroline alone, with unfeigned pleasure, was enjoying the change of scene, and coaxing her "Dear, precious Adele," who returned the sweet child's caresses with equal affection. The weather was intolerably hot; the Miss Webberlys would not consent to have their pelisses faded by opening the barouche—"You know, mama, we can't get any thing from London for a long time, and you would not have us dress in the Irish fashions:" so the four ladies and Caroline were nearly suffocated with heat; little relief was obtained from letting down the front windows, for Mr. Webberly and a footman in the driving seat intercepted the air. Mr. Webberly had placed himself there, that he might from time to time cast sweet looks at Adelaide. She sat with her back to him that she might not see them; but this was of little avail, for he tapped her every five minutes on the shoulder, on pretence of pointing out some remarkable object to her notice, therefore she willingly accepted Mrs. Sullivan's offer of making room for her on the other seat. Oh! how she envied the abigails, as they drove past in the post chaise! she could not enjoy the pleasure of walking up the hills with Caroline, as in that case, Mr. Webberly was at her side in an instant, ready primed with the compliments he had composed on the barouche seat. But notwithstanding all this, she was enchanted with the picturesque scenery of North Wales: the Vale of Langollen, Capel Kerrick, and Lake Oggen, called forth her rapturous praise, in the expression of which she was sometimes joined by her companions, though they were little capable of feeling the pleasure she experienced.
Mrs. Sullivan's parsimony always showing itself in trifles, she quarrelled with all the drivers, ostlers, chamber maids, and waiters, as she came along, by offering them less than people who travelled with the same cortège usually did. The Welsh are a remarkably sturdy people; and if, on entering Wales, you offend the man who drives you the first stage, the bad effects of his irascible feelings follow your carriage wheels to the last. What must it be when each equestrian is individually enraged at you!
The carriage windows were no sooner drawn up, to put an end to the clamour occasioned by such squabbles on the outside, than the usual contentions were renewed within, which seldom ceased till the time for wrangling with the ostlers arrived again, for which a scold to the last turnpike keeper, for the badness of the roads, in proportion to the high tolls, served as a prelude. However, they at last reached Holyhead: as Adelaide skipped into the inn, overjoyed to be comparatively at liberty, she exclaimed, in thought, "Thank goodness, so much of my Purgatory is over! Why Webberly House was Heaven to this! However we shall travel only a small portion of the time I am to spend in penance for my sins.—They will all be sea-sick to-morrow, and then I shall have a few hours' peace."
CHAPTER XIV.
Now hoist the sail, and let the streamers float
Upon the wanton breezes; strew the deck
With lavender, and sprinkle liquid sweets,
That no rude savour maritime invade
The nose of nice nobility.