you will allow it to be mentioned—
To the whole family, madam!—By all means. I wanted only first to know, whether Miss Mansfield's affections were disengaged: and now you shall give me leave to attend Miss Mansfield. I am a party for my Lord W–: Miss Mansfield is a party: your debates will be the more free in our absence. If I find her averse, believe me, madam, I will not endeavour to persuade her. On the contrary, if she declare against accepting the proposal, I will be her advocate, though every one else should vote in its favour.
The brothers and sister looked upon one another: I left the mother to propose it to them; and stept into the inner parlour to Miss Mansfield.
She was sitting with her back to the door, in a meditating posture. She started at my entrance.
I talked of indifferent subjects, in order to divert her from the important one, that had taken up her whole attention.
It would have been a degree of oppression to her to have entered with her upon a subject of so much consequence to her while we were alone; and when her not having given a negative, was to be taken as a modest affirmative.
Lady Mansfield soon joined us—My dear daughter, said she, we are all unanimous. We have agreed to leave every thing to Sir Charles Grandison: and we hope you will.
She was silent. I will only ask you, madam, said I, to her, if you have any wish to take time to consider of the matter? Do you think you shall be easier in your mind, if you take time?—She was silent.
I will not at this time, my good Miss Mansfield, urge you further. I will make my report to Lord W–, and you shall be sure of his joyful approbation of the steps I have taken, before your final consent shall be asked for. But that I may not be employed in a doubtful cause, let me be commissioned to tell my lord, that you are disengaged; and that you wholly resign yourself to your mother's advice.
She bowed her head.
And that you, madam, to Lady Mansfield, are not averse to enter into treaty upon this important subject.
Averse, sir! said the mother, bowing, and gratefully smiling.
I will write the particulars of our conversation to Lord W–, and my opinion of settlements, and advise him (if I am not forbid) to make a visit at Mansfield House. [I stopt: they were both silent.] If possible, I will attend my lord in his first visit. I hope, madam, to Miss Mansfield, you will not dislike him; I am sure he will be charmed with you: he is far from being disagreeable in his person: his temper is not bad. Your goodness will make him good. I dare say that he will engage your gratitude; and I defy a good mind to separate love from gratitude.
We returned to company. I had all their blessings pronounced at once, as from one mouth. The melancholy brother was enlivened: who knows but the consequence of this alliance may illuminate his mind? I could see by the pleasure they all had, in beholding him capable of joy on the occasion, that they hoped it would. The unhappy situation of the family affairs, as it broke the heart of the eldest brother, fixed a gloom on the temper of this gentleman.
I was prevailed upon to dine with them. In the conversation we had at and after dinner, their minds opened, and their characters rose upon me. Lord W– will be charmed with Miss Mansfield. I am delighted to think, that my mother's brother will be happy, in the latter part of his life, with a wife of so much prudence and goodness, as I am sure this lady will make him. On one instance of her very obliging behaviour to me, I whispered her sister, Pray, Miss Fanny, tell Miss Mansfield, but not till I am gone, that she knows not the inconveniencies she is bringing upon herself: I may, perhaps, hereafter, have the boldness, to look for the same favour from my aunt, that I meet with from Miss Mansfield.
If my sister, returned she, should ever misbehave to her benefactor, I will deny my relation to her.
You will soon have another letter from me, with an account of the success of my visit to Sir Harry Beauchamp and his lady. We must have our Beauchamp among us, my dear friend: I should rather say, you must among you; for I shall not be long in England. He will supply to you, my dear Dr. Bartlett, the absence (it will not, I hope, be a long one) of your
CHARLES GRANDISON.
Sir Charles, I remember, as the doctor read, mentions getting leave for his Beauchamp to come over, who, he says, will supply his absence to him —But, ah, Lucy! Who, let me have the boldness to ask, shall supply it to your Harriet? Time, my dear, will do nothing for me, except I could hear something very much amiss of this man.
I have a great suspicion, that the first part of the letter enclosed was about me. The doctor looked so earnestly at me, when he skipt two sides of it; and, as I thought, with so much compassion!—To be sure, it was about me.
What would I give to know as much of his mind as Dr. Bartlett knows! If I thought he pitied the poor Harriet—I should scorn myself. I am, I will be, above his pity, Lucy. In this believe your
HARRIET BYRON.
LETTER VII
MISS BYRON.—IN CONTINUATION SUNDAY NIGHT, APRIL 2
Dr. Bartlett has received from Sir Charles an account of what passed last Friday between him and Sir Harry and Lady Beauchamp. By the doctor's allowance, I enclose it to you.
In this letter, Lucy, you will see him in a new light; and as a man whom there is no resisting, when he resolves to carry a point. But it absolutely convinces me, of what indeed I before suspected, that he has not an high opinion of our sex in general: and this I will put down as a blot in his character. He treats us, in Lady Beauchamp, as perverse humoursome babies, loving power, yet not knowing how to use it. See him so delicate in his behaviour and address to Miss Mansfield, and carry in your thoughts his gaiety and adroit management to Lady Beauchamp, as in this letter, and you will hardly think him the same man. Could he be any thing to me, I should be more than half afraid of him: yet this may be said in his behalf;—He but accommodates himself to the persons he has to deal with:—He can be a man of gay wit, when he pleases to descend, as indeed his sister Charlotte has as often found, as she has given occasion for the exercise of that talent in him:—Yet, that virtue, for its own sake, is his choice; since, had he been a free liver, he would have been a dangerous man.
But I will not anticipate too much: read it here, if you please.
LETTER VIII
SIR CHARLES GRANDISON, TO DR. BARTLETT [ENCLOSED IN THE PRECEDING.] GRANDISON HALL, FRIDAY NIGHT, MARCH 31
I arrived at Sir Harry Beauchamp's about twelve this day. He and his lady expected me, from the letter which I wrote and shewed you before I left the town; in which, you know, I acquainted Sir Harry with his son's earnest desire to throw himself at his feet, and to pay his duty to his mother, in England; and engaged to call myself, either this day or to-morrow, for an answer.
Sir Harry received me with great civility, and even affection. Lady Beauchamp, said he, will be with us in a moment. I am afraid you will not meet with all the civility from her on the errand you are come upon, that a man of Sir Charles Grandison's character deserves to meet with from all the world. We have been unhappy together, ever since we had your letter. I long to see my son: your friendship for him establishes him in my heart. But—And then he cursed the apron-string tenure, by which, he said, he held his peace.
You will allow me, Sir Harry, said I, to address myself in my own way to my lady. You give me pleasure, in letting me know, that the difficulty is not with you. You have indeed, sir, one of the most prudent young men in the world for your son. His heart is in your hand: you may form it as you please.
She is coming! She is coming! interrupted he. We are all in pieces: we were in the midst of a feud, when you arrived. If she is not civil to you—
In swam the lady; her complexion raised; displeasure in her looks to me, and indignation in her air to Sir Harry; as if they had not had their contention out, and she was ready to renew it.
With as obliging an air as I could assume, I paid my compliments to her. She received them with great stiffness; swelling at Sir Harry: who sidled to the door, in a moody and sullen manner, and then slipt out.
You are Sir Charles Grandison, I suppose, sir,