Now that there was an approaching possibility and probability of hearing of Count Altenberg, Caroline felt it extremely difficult to adhere to her resolution of never thinking of him, especially as her mind, which had been actively occupied and deeply interested in her sister’s concerns, was now left to return upon itself in all the leisure of retirement. Fortunately for her, about this time she was again called upon for that sympathy which she was ever ready to give to her friends. She received the following letter from Mrs. Hungerford.
LETTER FROM MRS. HUNGERFORD TO MISS CAROLINE PERCY.
“Come, my beloved Caroline, my dear young friend, friend of my family, and of all who are most near and dear to me—come, and enjoy with me and them that happiness, which your judicious kindness long since foresaw, and your prudence promoted.
“My niece, Lady Mary Pembroke, is at last persuaded that she has it in her power to make Mr. Barclay permanently happy. He has been obliged to take a considerable length of time to convince her of the steadiness of his attachment. Indeed, her objection—that he had been charmed by such a coquette as the lady by whom we first saw him captivated, appeared to me strong; and I thought my niece right for adhering to it, more especially as I believed that at the time her affections pleaded against her reason in his favour, and that, if she had been convinced long ago, it would not have been against her will.
“Mr. Barclay has behaved like a man of sense and honour. Without disguise he told her of his former attachment to you. She instantly made an answer, which raised her high in my estimation. She replied, that Mr. Barclay’s being detached from Lady Angelica Headingham by your superior merit was to her the strongest argument in his favour. She must, she said, have felt insecure in the possession of a heart, which had been transferred directly from Lady Angelica to herself, because she was conscious that her own disposition was so different from her ladyship’s; but in succeeding to the affection which he had felt for a woman of your character, she should feel perfect security, or at least reasonable hope, that by similar, though certainly inferior qualities, she might ensure his happiness and her own. They are to be married next week. Lady Mary particularly wishes that you should be one of her bride-maids—come then, my love, and bring all my Percys. I shall not perfectly enjoy my own and my niece’s happiness till you share it with me. My daughter Mortimer insists upon signing this as well as myself.
“MARY-ELIZABETH HUNGERFORD.
“KATE MORTIMER.”
Caroline and all Mrs. Hungerford’s Percys obeyed her summons with alacrity. Lady Mary Pembroke’s marriage with Mr. Barclay was solemnized under the happiest auspices, and in the midst of approving and sympathizing friends. As soon as the ceremony was over, and she had embraced and congratulated her niece, Mrs. Hungerford turned to Mrs. Percy, and in a low voice said, “If it were not too much for one so happy as I am, so rich in blessings, to ask one blessing more, I should ask to be permitted to live to see the day when our dear Caroline—” Mrs. Hungerford pressed Mrs. Percy’s hand, but could say no more; the tears rolled down her cheeks as she looked up to heaven. Some minutes afterwards, following Caroline with her eyes, “Look at her, Mrs. Percy!” said Mrs. Hungerford. “Did ever selfish coquette, in the height of triumph over lover or rival, enjoy such pleasure as you see sparkling at this moment in that dear girl’s countenance?”
The bride and bridegroom set off immediately for Mr. Barclay’s seat in Berkshire. Lady Florence accompanied her sister; and Mrs. Hungerford, after parting from both her nieces, entreated that Caroline might be left with her. “It is a selfish request, I know, my dear; but at my age I cannot afford to be generous of the society of those I love. Allow me to plead my age, and my—Well, I will not say more since I see it gives you pain, and since I see you will grant the prayer of my petition, rather than hear my claims to your compassion.”
Caroline liked particularly to stay with Mrs. Hungerford at this time, when there was not any company at the castle, no one but Mrs. Hungerford and her daughter, so that she had the full and quiet enjoyment of their society. At this time of her life, and in the state of her mind at this period, no society could have been more agreeable, soothing, and useful to Caroline, than that of such a friend. One, who had not forgotten the passions of youth; who could give at once sympathy and counsel; who was willing to allow to love its full and exquisite power to exalt the happiness of human life, yet appeared herself, in advanced and serene old age, a constant example of the falsehood of the notion, that the enthusiasm of passion is essential to felicity. An elegant and just distinction has been made by a philosophical writer between delicacy of passion and delicacy of taste. One leading to that ill-governed susceptibility, which transports the soul to ecstasy, or reduces it to despair, on every adverse or prosperous change of fortune; the other enlarging our sphere of happiness, by directing and increasing our sensibility to objects of which we may command the enjoyment, instead of wasting it upon those over which we have no control. Mrs. Hungerford was a striking example of the advantage of cultivating delicacy of taste.