But there is one man in the world, who is remarkable for his truth, yet is unquestionably polite. He censures not others for complying with fashions established by custom; but he gives not in to them. He never perverts the meaning of words. He never, for instance, suffers his servants to deny him, when he is at home. If he is busy, he just finds time to say he is, to unexpected visiters; and if they will stay, he turns them over to his sisters, to Dr. Bartlett, to Emily, till he can attend them. But then he has always done so. Every one knows that he lives to his own heart, and they expect it of him; and when they can have his company, they have double joy in the ease and cheerfulness that attend his leisure: they then have him wholly. And he can be the more polite, as the company then is all his business.
Sir Charles might the better do so, as he came over so few months ago, after so long an absence; and his reputation for politeness was so well established, that people rather looked for rules from him, than a conformity to theirs.
His denials of complimenting Lady Olivia (though she was but just arrived in his native country, where she never was before) with the suspending of his departure for one week, or but for one day—Who but he could have given them? But he was convinced, that it was right to hasten away, for the sake of Clementina and his Jeronymo; and that it would have been wrong to shew Olivia, even for her own sake, that in such a competition she had consequence with him; and all her entreaties, all her menaces, the detested poniard in her hand, could not shake his steady soul, and make him delay his well-settled purpose.
LETTER XXXI
MISS BYRON.—IN CONTINUATION TUESDAY MORNING, APRIL 18.
This naughty Lady G——! She is excessively to blame. Lord L—— is out of patience with her. So is Lady L——. Emily says, she loves her dearly; but she does not love her ways. Lord G——, as Emily tells me, talks of coming to me; the cause of quarrel supposed to be not great: but trifles, insisted upon, make frequently the widest breaches. Whatever it be, it is between themselves: and neither cares to tell: but Lord and Lady L—— are angry with her, for the ludicrous manner in which she treats him.
The misunderstanding happened after my cousin and I left them last night.
I was not in spirits, and declined staying to cards. Lady Olivia and her
aunt went away at the same time. Whist was the game. Lord and Lady
L——, Dr. Bartlett and Emily, were cast in. In the midst of their play,
Lady G—— came hurrying down stairs to them, warbling an air. Lord
G—— followed her, much disturbed. Madam, I must tell you, said he—Why
MUST, my lord? I don't bid you.
Sit still, child, said she to Emily; and took her seat behind her—Who wins? Who loses?
Lord G—— walked about the room—Lord and Lady L—— were unwilling to take notice, hoping it would go off; for there had been a few livelinesses on her side at dinner-time, though all was serene at supper.
Dr. Bartlett offered her his cards. She refused them—No, doctor, said she, I will play my own cards: I shall have enough to do to play them well.