It may be remembered that our wedded pair had each passed the term when people of both sexes in the presumption of life's springtide, talk of marriage as a common event which "comes to all;" and toss their fortunes to and fro, with lavish prodigality, altogether unprophetic of succeeding dearth.
This was precisely the case with ci-devant Miss Robinson, who, having rejected a crowd of aspirants, had begun to feel a chill frost creeping over the season of youth, and the joy of seeing herself now prosperously "established," and contemplating a well sized, well furnished mansion, in which she ruled by the style and title of "Mrs. Hartland," produced a degree of self-gratulation proportioned to the fears which had preceded her present elevation. She was a common place, prudent woman, and we must not be too severe on the weaknesses which were we, however, so stupid as not to observe, we should exercise no charity in forgiving. We do confess then, though not in the spirit of ill-nature, that no happiness ever transcended that of our recent matron, when seated in a new post-chaise, the pannels of which were like mirrors in which you might have shaved yourself, every strap and brace polished to black satin, postilion light and dapper, dressed in a fresh suit of green and silver, horses prancing, sun shining, she took her joyous course along her own smoothly gravelled approach, armed with a ticket-case of carved ivory in her hand, to perform the first circuit of country visits in return for those which had been unsparingly lavished on the late event. Neither did this gladness perish through its vivacity, as is the case with the generality of powerful stimulants, but there was a constantly recurring bliss in the sounds of "My own house, my own carriage, my own servants," &c. which produced new impression at every repetition.
Mr. Hartland's situation was not less enviable. Having passed all his youthful prime without considering marriage as practicable, he had thought less than any body during early life of changing his condition; and since he had attained competency, and became desirous of uniting himself suitably to a virtuous partner, the difficulties of seeking, finding, choosing, proposing, and wedding, rose upon his view like Alps beyond Alps, and presented such a formidable barrier against hope, that he could not see how the matter was ever to be undertaken, much less how it would ever come to pass.
The husband, therefore, was just as much enchanted as the wife. He felt himself raised in the scale of creation; he was now a person of more consequence than he had ever been before. Then his affections, which had been arrested by his mother's death, and which might be said to have suffered a blockade since that event, were all set flowing again with redoubled tenderness and activity. His former poverty, too, having prevented him from being an object of competition, his vanity had never been excited, and he was a total stranger, in his own person, to those attentions, which, we are sorry to say, are often disgustingly paid to men by the fair sex, when rank or fortune furnishes motive for entrapping them. Mr. Hartland's gratitude, therefore, to Miss Robinson, for having married him, was as sincere as it was unbounded; and thus this favoured pair were, in the language of the nursery tales of olden time, "as happy as the day is long;" reminding us of the spider, who spinning her web from her own vitals, "lives along the line" of her own daily occupation; or (as we are given to comparison), the Hartlands frequently suggested to our memory the Epicurean aspiration of the celebrated Quin, "Oh, that I had a throat half a mile in length, and palate all the way." Now, the moral palate of Henbury's inhabitants extended to the utmost verge of their possessions; and they might be said to taste and relish whatever they found in their path.
They had neither of them seen much of the world, and neither knew any thing of that high and towering intellect, which, like the lofty eagle, quits the level of the plain, and builds its eyrie in an upper world all its own. The Hartlands had sharp common understandings, good nature, and discretion; but they rose not above mediocrity, and were of that class whose natural walk is on the earth. They were busy all day long about every thing; interested alike in the gravest or minutest concerns, and never tortured their brains with any subject of contemplation beyond the reach of sense. Healthful in mind, as well as in body; gay, and continually employed; they talked, and walked, and rode, and drove, dined out, and gave dinners at home, and were never weary of themselves, or of the society around them.
But the cup of existence is never unmixed. If the wormwood leaf float not on its surface, it will be found lying at the bottom. Three years glided by. The first was one of such novelty and incessant excitement, that no yawning chasm was seen, felt, or understood; the second was sometimes slightly tinged by anxiety lest the pleasant hedge-rows of Henbury Lodge should one day encircle another race, and stranger feet should press its smiling lawns; but when a third year closed its barren account with blighted hopes, expectation died away; and though Mr. and Mrs. Hartland were still the envy of the region in which they grew, and were universally declared to be worthy of an annual flitch, it was nevertheless remarked, and especially by Miss Ferret, whose penetration stood high in public regard, that "all was not right at Henbury."
At first her hints conveyed nothing more determinate, than was communicated in the adage, "All is not gold that glisters;" but this had the effect of setting those who were less intimate than herself with the friends whose undefined sorrows she zealously published, writhing with curiosity, while her own gained time for such inquisition as should bring her to the true cause of that change, the effects of which only her quick eye had as yet discerned. Besides, it was more consonant with Miss Ferret's idea of true friendship to set other wits upon the discovery of any thing disagreeable, should such exist, than directly to proclaim it herself; and therefore every purpose was gained of stimulating the industry of other gossips, while her innuendoes, darkly dropped, persuaded the entire vicinage that she knew a great deal more than she chose to reveal, and was only withheld from promulgating to the full extent of her information, by "the sincere regard which she entertained for the Hartlands."
But what is there which a union of talents and diligence will not compass and achieve? Miss Ferret's were soon crowned with success, and happily the cloud that overcast the horizon of Henbury was of that nature which might be trumpeted to the four corners of the earth (if indeed the round world have such convenient recesses for playing hide and seek), without the violation of those feelings which our busy blab professed for her protegés.
It was well known throughout the country that both Mr. and Mrs. Hartland were particularly partial to children; so much so, that whenever they appeared, the fond mothers of the neighbourhood used constantly to ring the nursery chimes for their edification or amusement, and many a morning call has been inconveniently protracted to the visitors, for the purpose of "seeing the baby," whose tedious delay after summons issued, and elaborate dress when produced, proved the complete metamorphosis which it had undergone in the interval, before it was considered to be fitly attired for exhibition in the drawing-room. But Miss Ferret, happening to be in company one day when the large family of a neighbouring curate was mentioned, remarked that Mrs. Hartland, who never gave herself the habit of generalizing in conversation, replied rather pensively, "Alas! how unequally the gifts of Providence are distributed!"
Miss Ferret expressed herself to have felt as if she had been shot when this observation fell from her friend; and it furnished a clue by which the whole labyrinth of her secret thoughts came to be developed. Pursuing the light which now glimmered, Miss Ferret immediately acquiesced in the justice of the remark, and proceeded to tell of a gentleman and lady who were the happiest people in the world, "all but having no heirs to their fine estate," and added, "They have been married fully five years, and you may suppose what their feelings are; for we must acknowledge that it is the most natural thing in the world to wish that one's name should not be cut off; and, as I often say, an extinguisher put over one's grave is enough to lower one's spirits; for the grave in itself is sufficiently gloomy in all conscience, without putting an end to the whole stock, who might live a little longer, all at a blow."