And yet, notwithstanding all this confession which we have made for Mr. Philip, we would not have our readers to imagine that the young gentleman was devoid of good qualities or good feelings altogether; he might not have been so candid in his confession for himself as we have been for him, but he was not altogether aware of the influence of circumstances upon his mind. He was placed in a certain rank in society, and must keep up the dignity of that rank; and it was his misfortune if necessity put him upon using means for that purpose not quite in unison with his better judgment. Royalty itself has not free choice in matters of the heart; and nobility, as it approaches royalty in its splendour, is sometimes assimilated to it in its restraints and perplexities. Still, however, making every concession which candour and human kindness prompt us to make in behalf of Philip Martindale; and admitting all the extenuations which a merciful advocate could suggest, we cannot help thinking, and it is our duty to say it, that if he had abstained from the foolish and low pursuits of gaming in all its varieties, and if he had cherished and preserved that spirit of independence which his excellent mother, Lady Martindale, had endeavoured to instil into his mind, he might have upheld the dignity of his rank, if he had sacrificed a little of its splendour. But to our history.
We have mentioned as the patroness of the archery-meeting, Lady Featherstone; and we have said that this lady had two daughters, Lucy and Isabella. It has also been observed that Sir Andrew Featherstone felt a wish to unite one of these young ladies in marriage with Philip Martindale. This was a very natural ambition. The two families had been intimate for several generations. The Martindales had, by various circumstances, gradually advanced in wealth; but the reverse had been the lot of the Featherstones, though they were quite as old and good a family as the Martindales. Singular indeed it was that the only person in the Martindale family who showed any symptoms of alienation from the Featherstones was old John Martindale: the singularity, however, consisted in this, that he had not shown any coolness, or behaved with any reserve, on the increase of his own property; but he had carried himself proudly towards them only since his cousin had acquired a title of nobility and had become a peer. Yet the old gentleman professed to laugh at titles; but nobody thought that old John Martindale was a fool.
Sir Andrew Featherstone, being a good-humoured man, took little notice of countless insults, affronts, slights, and disrespectfulnesses, whereby myriads of the human species are most grievously tormented. He did not, therefore, heed or observe the coldness of old Mr. Martindale; nor was he at all angry with Philip that he gave much of his attention to Sir Gilbert Sampson, and that he tolerated the attentions of Miss Sampson. Lady Featherstone, however, was more observant; and notwithstanding the incessant and manifold attention which she paid to all the party, could not help noticing how very gracious Philip Martindale was with Sir Gilbert. Various were the stratagems by which her ladyship endeavoured and contrived to place Philip in juxtaposition with her daughters when they adjourned to the collation; and very agreeable was her surprise when, after the strictest observation, she did not discern any wandering of the eyes of the young gentleman towards that part of the table where Miss Sampson was seated. Her fears were still farther diminished, when she found that Miss Sampson was deeply, and to all appearance most agreeably, engaged in conversation with a very elegant young gentleman, who seemed almost as much pleased with Miss Sampson as he was with himself. We owe it to our readers to introduce this young gentleman.
Henry Augustus Tippetson was a gentleman of good family, but being a younger brother, and very indolent, was not likely to make any great figure in the world. He was of middle stature; very slender, very fair, very near-sighted when he happened to think of it; having flaxen hair and blue eyes; suspected, but unjustly, of using rouge; very expensive in his dress, and one of Delcroix’s best customers. He was not one of the archers, though he had once attempted to use a bow. He found that the exertion was too much for him, and he feared it might harden his hands. He expressed to Miss Sampson the same fears for her; but the young lady heeded not the apprehension.
Lady Featherstone was very happy to see Miss Sampson so employed; but when her ladyship turned her attention to her own daughters and the gentleman whom she had seated by them, not all her powers of penetration could discover to which of the young ladies Philip Martindale was paying the greatest attention; and most of all was her mind disturbed by observing, that when he addressed himself either to one or the other, though it was with perfect politeness, it was with perfect indifference.
The sports of the day were concluded by a ball, which resembled in every point every ball of the same character. There was the usual allowance of dancing, negus, nonsense, tossing of heads, sneering, quizzing, showing off, blundering, and all the rest of that kind of amusement. It enters not into our plan to dwell any longer on this festival. We must return to Brigland.
CHAPTER IX.
“For fame, (whose journies are through ways unknown,