Finding then at last that the Earl of Trimmerstone was really melancholy, and deeply dejected at his disappointments, Mr. Martindale began at length to feel for him, and talk to him with friendly condolence. He quite approved of his design of leaving London, and spending a little time in retirement and solitude. He offered Trimmerstone Hall, and proposed, if it were necessary or even desirable, that it should be totally rebuilt. He would insist on making over to his lordship that dwelling, and the estate connected with it, as properly belonging to the title. He also requested that Lord Trimmerstone would favor him with as much of his company as possible before he left town.
This was not only substantially kind, but it was also done in such a manner as to render it pleasing as well as profitable. It somewhat melted and moved the heart of the young nobleman; but it did not by any means effectually and entirely dissipate that melancholy which was preying upon his spirits. He accepted the invitation to spend much of his time with Mr. Martindale; and when his thoughts were removed from schemes of gaming, and from the vulgar amusements of the turf and the ring, his understanding being naturally good, he much enjoyed the conversation of Signora Rivolta and her daughter, in both of whom he observed an agreeable and rational manner of thinking and speaking. Their society was to him also the more pleasant, as it was so completely the reverse of that to which he had been long accustomed, and with which he connected no pleasant ideas. He was weary of slang, artificialness, and common-place; and he was glad to exchange them for common sense, good taste, and sound judgment. There might be some regrets that he had sacrificed himself to a creature so frivolous as Celestina; but there was no distinct wish in his mind that he had preferred and chosen the gentle, intelligent, and unobtrusive Clara Rivolta. This was fortunate for him, because it rendered his intimacy with the family so much more agreeable than it would otherwise have been had he looked back with vain regret to the past, so far as any of them were concerned.
Signora Rivolta, who was a woman of good discernment, and somewhat proud of that discernment, fancied that Lord Trimmerstone was quite an altered man, and that the character in which he had hitherto appeared was not his real character, but was merely a piece of that apery, by which clumsy ones make fools of themselves in endeavouring to become fashionable or distinguished. Under this impression, the Signora paid very especial attention to his lordship; and with a view of confirming and establishing him in good resolutions and good principles, very frequently directed her conversation to the subject of religion, using however very general language, lest the old gentleman her father should entertain a suspicion that there was any design of making a convert to the faith of Rome: for Mr. Martindale had dreadful notions of the Roman Catholic faith, though he did not exactly know what it was. He needed not, however, have given himself much uneasiness about the matter; for when people of rank become religious, it is almost, if not quite always, according to the religion of the state.
What effect conversation of this nature produced on his lordship’s mind must be narrated hereafter. We must now pay our attention elsewhere.
CHAPTER VI.
“There are that love the shades of life,
And shun the splendid walks of fame.”
Langhorne.