Laura knew that her cousins, the Herberts, were poor. She knew that Mrs Herbert was in a situation which needs comforts that poverty cannot command, and it was vain to expect these comforts from the maternal compassion of Lady Pelham. She therefore determined to supply them, as far as possible, from her own little fund; and fearing that a gift from her might revolt the high spirit of Herbert, she inclosed almost all her half-year's annuity in a blank cover, and conveyed it to her cousin. All that she retained was a sum far too small to defray the expence of a journey to Scotland; and several months were to elapse before she could recruit her fund. Till then, she had no resource but patience; and she endeavoured to console herself with a hope that in time the perseverance of her adversaries would fail.
Often did she with a sigh turn her eyes towards Norwood—Norwood, the seat of all the peaceful domestic virtues; where the voice of contention was unheard, where courtly politeness, though duly honoured, held the second place to the courtesy of the heart. But Mrs De Courcy had never hinted a wish that Laura should be a permanent inmate of her family, and, even if she had, there would have been a glaring impropriety in forsaking Lady Pelham's house for one in its immediate neighbourhood. De Courcy, too, she thought, was not the kind friend he was wont to be. She had of late seen him seldom, which was probably caused by the marked coolness of Lady Pelham's reception; but it had happened unfortunately that he had twice surprised her in the midst of Hargrave's extravagancies, when she almost feared to speak to him, lest she should awaken the furious jealousy to which her tormentor was subject, and she dreaded that her father's friend (for so she loved to call him) suspected her of encouraging the addresses of such a lover. During these visits he had looked, she thought, displeased, and had early taken leave. Was it kind to judge her unheard? Perhaps, if an opportunity had been given her, she might have assumed courage to exculpate herself; but, without even calling to ask her commands, De Courcy was gone with Mr Bolingbroke to London, to make arrangements for Harriet's marriage.
CHAPTER XXVI
Though Laura could not escape the attacks of Lady Pelham, she sometimes found means to elude those of Hargrave. She watched his approach; and whenever he appeared, intrenched herself in her own apartment. She confined herself almost entirely to the house, and excused herself from every visit where she thought he might be of the party. He besieged her with letters; she sent them back unopened. Lady Pelham commanded her to be present during his visits; she respectfully, but peremptorily, refused to comply.
She had thus remained a sort of prisoner for some weeks, when her aunt one morning entered her room with an aspect which Laura could not well decipher. 'Well, Miss Montreville,' said she, 'you have at last accomplished your purpose; your capricious tyranny has prevailed at last; Colonel Hargrave leaves—this morning.' 'Dear Madam,' cried Laura, starting up overjoyed, 'what a deliverance!' 'Oh to be sure, mighty cause you have to congratulate yourself upon a deliverance from a man who might aspire to the first woman in England! But you will never have it in your power to throw away such another offer. You need hardly expect to awaken such another passion.'
'I hope, with all my heart, I shall not; but are you certain he will go?' 'Oh, very certain. He has written to tell me so!' 'I trust he will keep his word,' said Laura; 'and when I am sure he is gone, I will beg of your Ladyship to excuse me for a few hours, while I walk to Norwood. I have been so shackled of late! but the first use I make of my liberty shall be to visit my friends.' 'I am afraid, my dear,' returned Lady Pelham, with more gentleness than she was accustomed to use in contradiction, 'you will scarcely find time to visit Mrs De Courcy. I have long promised to pass some time with my friend Mrs Bathurst; and I propose setting off to-morrow. I should die of ennui here, now I have lost the society that has of late given me so much pleasure.'—'Mrs Bathurst, Madam? she who was formerly'—'Poh, poh, child,' interrupted Lady Pelham, 'don't stir up the embers of decayed slander—Will you never learn to forget the little mistakes of your fellow-creatures? Mrs Bathurst makes one of the best wives in the world; and to a man with whom everybody would not live so well.'
Practice had made Laura pretty expert in interpreting her aunt's language, and she understood more in the present instance than it was meant she should comprehend. She had heard of Mrs Bathurst's fame, and, knowing that it was not quite spotless, was rather averse to being the companion of Lady Pelham's visit; but she never, without mature deliberation, refused compliance with her aunt's wishes; and she resolved to consider the matter before announcing opposition. Besides she was determined to carry her point of seeing Mrs De Courcy, and therefore did not wish to introduce any other subject of altercation. 'Though I should accompany you to-morrow, Madam,' said she, 'I shall have time sufficient for my walk to Norwood. The preparations for my journey cannot occupy an hour; and, if I go to Norwood now,' added she, tying on her bonnet, 'I can return early. Good morning, Madam; to-day I may walk in peace.'
Laura felt as if a mountain had been lifted from her breast as she bounded across the lawn, and thought that Colonel Hargrave was, by this time, miles distant from Walbourne; but as she pursued her way, she began to wonder that Lady Pelham seemed so little moved by his departure. It was strange that she, who had remonstrated so warmly, so unceasingly, against Laura's behaviour to him, did not more vehemently upbraid her with its consequences. Lady Pelham's forbearance was not in character—Laura did not know how to explain it. 'I have taken her by surprise,' thought she, 'with my excursion to Norwood, but she will discuss it at large in the evening; and probably in many an evening—I shall never hear the last of it.'
It was needless, however, to anticipate evil, and Laura turned her thoughts to the explanation which she was bent on making to her friends. The more she reflected, the more she was persuaded that De Courcy suspected her of encouraging the addresses of Hargrave; addresses now provokingly notorious to all the neighbourhood. He had most probably communicated the same opinion to his mother; and Laura wished much to exculpate herself, if she could do so without appearing officiously communicative. If she could meet Mr De Courcy alone, if he should lead to the subject, or if it should accidentally occur, she thought she might be able to speak freely to him; more freely than even to Mrs De Courcy. 'It is strange, too,' thought she, 'that I should feel so little restraint with a person of the other sex; less than ever I did with one of my own.—But my father's friend ought not to be classed with other men.'