I am just returned from Miss Flint's room; her civility supports me in my theory. She insists on my using the coach as my own. "The weather will not do for an open carriage, and I ought to be careful of my health." Poor woman! on saying this, she exhibited the havoc which sickness has made of late in her robust frame. She looks dreadfully; is much fallen away; and is nearly confined to her bed-room. She mentioned her niece's journey; said she was glad to hear she was going from Wilson's, and thanked me for my recommendation of her to you, adding, "that Mary could be useful when it pleased her, having a pretty taste and a quick hand." Suppose you commission me to purchase for you the unfinished cross-stitch carpet; as needle-work of this sort goes on with you, it will employ Mary very well for seven years; and by that time the Turkey carpeting in Sedley's study, will be the worse for wear. You will think, no doubt, of availing yourself of this "quick hand" in some way or other.
To-morrow, yes, to-morrow, I dine with Miss Howard. Her friends will be collected for the special purpose of taking leave; wishing her a pleasant journey, with such like ceremonies: I have escaped the word fooleries! so much in honour of my self-command. But is it not nonsense, to wish people a pleasant journey who are going to Heathcot? Oh! how much good would it do me, only to behold the direction-post that points out "Heathcot-farm," and that is within one little mile of Lucy. Not a word more will I add in this froward humour; but still subscribe myself
Your own
R. Cowley!
LETTER XXIII.
From the same to the same.
"You shall expect a letter by Miss Howard." Well, I will try, and convince my dear girl that I am not a simpleton, whose philosophy resembles the feather in her hat, discomfited by a falling shower, or a rough blast. I will be your Rachel Cowley, although no longer your Beatrix.
I was pleased on Thursday morning to find that my good baronet had not finally renounced all "the pomps and vanities of this wicked world;" being convinced that in a moderate use of them, he will be in less danger of corruption, than many who think sackcloth and ashes the only guards to keep off temptation. He entered the music-parlour, in which Mrs. Allen and myself were prepared for the carriage, with an erect air, and as I thought a firmer step than usual, to ask when the coach should draw up. He wore his bridal suit, somewhat modernized; an embroidered waistcoat, and, as Mrs. Allen and myself both believe, a rich diamond stock buckle; a new hat, and a gold-headed cane. We made no remarks on his finery; he prevented it, by instantly adverting to my robe, which was the one we embroidered together; and paid it many compliments. Mrs. Allen observed, that her grey silk gown and black bonnet would disgrace the well-dressed party. "No," replied he, with easy politeness, "that can never happen, till you keep bad company. Wisdom acknowledges her children under any attire; and sober matron grace is your ornament. But Malcolm means to leave his boots behind him, and begs a corner in the carriage with us," added he, taking a pinch of snuff from a superb gold box; "I am not sorry to see him now and then lay aside the farmer for the gentleman, as of the latter class he may always be, though of the former, without sinking his character; whereas, I have seen farmers, and rich ones, who were not, nor could be gentlemen." Malcolm's entrance and dress produced the consequences to be drawn from Sir Murdock's inferences. He smiled on him with complacence, and said, "Why, now, indeed, you look like a lover, and a Maclairn!"—"When I forget what either of those titles claim," replied he, gaily, "hang a calf skin on my recreant limbs."
Thus attired we reached the Abbey. The captain in his best regimentals was prepared to receive his guests; and leaving the baronet to survey at his pleasure, those stationary friends which lined the room, Mrs. Allen and myself went to Mrs. Heartley's. Mrs. Wilson was with her; the girls were with Malcolm in the garden, and in our view. "Poor Miss Heartley will sadly miss her friend," observed the good woman, looking attentively on them as they walked leaning on Malcolm's arm. "It might have been as well for us had Miss Howard not passed the last month here, as it must make parting with her more hard." I spoke of my Lucy. "I have no doubts of her being happy," replied Mrs. Wilson, "and I know she will be respected, and improved in her learning, as Mr. Howard's daughter ought to be; but as to her comforts with us, they have been always our blessings. To be sure, we could not introduce her as you will do; but otherwise——But, if she be happy? Yet, as my husband and I have told the captain hundreds of times, there was no reason for his troubles on Mary's account. Thank God, we have enough for her and ourselves too, and, though we have relations to maintain, we never grudged them assistance, and surely we had a right to be happy in our turn. But I saw how it was," added she, wiping her eyes, "when the innocent lamb was sent to that savage aunt; the captain thought I should love her too well to please my husband's nieces. Dear me! duty and affection will not always march side by side! They were not born in my house, I never dandled them on my knees, nor saw them frisking before me! yet I do not forget them, they are relations. But this child!"—She wept.—"I beg your pardon, Miss Cowley, but I cannot help being sorry that she is going from us." I consoled her with the assurance that her absence would not be many months; and mentioned my hope of seeing you under her roof, as much a favourite as Mary. "So Mrs. Heartley tells me," replied she rising; "but in the mean time what is become of our young folks. They do not consider how cold it is turned." She disappeared in order to give them the caution. "How little do those understand the genuine goodness of human nature," said Mrs. Heartley, following with her eyes the retreating Mrs. Wilson, "who maintain, that it is indebted to acquired attainments and borrowed lustre for its excellence and stability! No one can estimate the advantages of a good education more highly than myself; but there are some of our fellow-creatures, so richly endowed with virtuous propensities, that they appear to me to be peculiarly marked, in order to humble the pride of human reason; and to exhibit virtue in her native dignity and simplicity. What system of education, or what refinements of the polite world, could have better taught this woman the art of conferring benefits without oppressing the receiver, than her own heart, and the precepts in the gospel. That which thousands in the world would consider as a work of supererogation and superlative merit, she is firmly persuaded, is doing no more than what Mr. and Mrs. Howard's child has a right to exact, because they were good and unfortunate; and she left an orphan under her roof. She has not a doubt of her being answerable for this young creature's comforts; and her regret on losing sight of her, is by no means unmixed with the fear, lest some mischief should arise from her acquaintance with the world. We have happily succeeded in satisfying her on this point; and she blesses God, that Miss Mary is not likely to see London. I am frequently so struck by this good woman's purity of heart, and sound principles of action," continued Mrs. Heartley, "that I am in some danger of despising too much the philosophy and refinements of the world. I cannot help believing, that, whilst immersed in its cares and its pleasures, not only my enjoyments were more controuled, but my heart less pure than it is at present. My ambition, which then looked forwards to the well-earned recompence of my husband's toils, and the honourable establishment of my children in that class to which their parents had a claim, is now settled into the wish of seeing Alice a good wife, and a farmer's wife: and I should be contented to leave her with the qualities of a Mrs. Wilson, and in the protection of a man like Wilson."
"A little refinement," answered I, with an arch smile, "will not spoil your plan of rural innocence and peace. Malcolm may work as industriously as Mr. Wilson, notwithstanding his wicked taste for Virgil and Theocritus; and it will be Alice's own fault, should she neglect the churn for the harpsichord."—"Rather say, her foolish mother's," replied she, laughing, "who, in spite of her convictions, could not leave her bad habits with the world she quitted. However," continued she, "I can give you no stronger proof of being a sincere proselyte to the opinions I have supported, than in the disposal of my daughter. On this important point I have so far deviated from the prescribed rules of parental prudence, as to hazard the censure of weakness, if not indiscretion, in permitting a girl who has no fortune, to engage herself in a promise of marriage to a man nearly as little favoured as herself in this essential article. It may not be amiss," continued she, laughing, "to endeavour to justify my conduct on this particular head, with one so rigidly attached to the doctrine of the 'suitable,' 'convenient,' and 'equal bargain' in this grand business of human life. The truth was, I had no alternative in the question concerning the happiness of my child. I foresaw, that circumstanced as she was, Malcolm Maclairn would either remain a second brother, or become her lover. There was no inequality of condition or of character, to oppose to their growing attachment; both were virtuous and amiable; both had the same moderate expectations; both had been educated for a decent mediocrity, I wrote to Lady Maclairn my observations, not my fears; for I had none. Malcolm's visits were not restrained. I considered, Miss Cowley, that worldly prudence was not without its victims; that human wisdom was not unfrequently frustrated, and that an anxious eye to the future often overshot its mark. In the dread of poverty we sometimes forget to appreciate justly the barriers which talents, industry, and sobriety can oppose to its encroachments, and still more heedlessly, turn from the numberless examples, in which wealth, with the habits it induces, has been the high road to penury. Malcolm is a practical farmer; and from the application of better opportunities, and superior talents, he has enlarged Mr. Wilson's agricultural knowledge, who calls him 'his master.' Malcolm was not sixteen when I warned his mother of his danger," continued Mrs. Heartley smiling; "since his father has sanctioned his views, I have regarded him as my son. Fortunately, Alice's pedigree pleased the good baronet; and he told Malcolm, that with such an education as he described, and from so honourable a stock, any girl was rich to an independent and wise man. From that hour his plans have been brought forward; and when, by means of his friend Wilson's assistance, he can find a farm, my children will be happy. An advantageous project in order to effect this, is now before them; and I hope will turn out as profitably to Mr. Wilson, who is a sensible and prudent man, as to Mr. Maclairn: in the mean time he is contented with the privileges I allow him; and Alice calls me her friend and confidant, and is in no hurry to change her name."
A summons to the party below prevented more on this subject. But tell me, Lucy, what is your opinion of this mother? I thought whilst I listened to her, that I was with ours! I found Mrs. Wilson presiding at the head of Captain Flint's table. The feast, for such it was, was in her parlour. A noble room, with a dark wainscoat, and a profusion of carving, gave dignity to the repast, and also a contrast peculiarly striking to the appearance of the guests; for we ought to have been dressed in farthingales and Queen Bess's ruffs; and the donor of the feast, as we suspect, to have had pages and gentlemen ushers. Simplicity, gaiety, and ease, supplied the place of ancient ceremonials; and I could not help recalling, in remarking the modest but independent farmer Wilson, the times of vassalage, when pride and abject submission bound the human race in the fetters of ignorance. Mrs. Allen, who appeared to be particularly Mrs. Wilson's favourite of the day, assures me, that I am forgiven for my wickedness in sending Mary from the Abbey. Miss Hardcastle's character has effected this lenity on Mrs. Wilson's part. "Her gentleness is exactly the thing; for to Mary Howard, gentleness is meat, drink, and clothing. She hopes Miss Hardcastle will attend to the little cough, which from time to time alarms her fears, Mary's dear parents having died of consumptions; but then indeed these were brought on by sorrow and the barbarity of the wicked. Miss Howard will have no such troubles; yet she has given her the recipe for the cough, which was always useful. How so tender a creature got through her hardship at the hall is beyond her conception! It appears to her a miracle! She who never went to bed or rose without a fire in her room, and who was reared like a cot-lamb!" Mrs. Allen received these hints with due attention, and with good-natured seriousness told her, that she had only one fear to combat with, namely, that Mary would be still too much the cotted-lamb at Heathcot. She smiled, and nodding her honest and contented head, answered, "That is well: she will never be spoiled by nursing, as they are, poor fools!"