St. Ronan's Well by Walter Scott (ebook offline reader .txt) 📕

a conscious glance at the bills he still held in his hand,) “have, I admit, been such as to intimate some such deep cause of interest as you have been pleased to state. But it seems strange that your lordship should have permitted years to glide away, without so much as enquiring after the young lady, who, I believe, is the only person qualified as your grand-uncle's will requires, with whom you can form an alliance. It appears to me, that long before now, this matter ought to have been investigated; and that, even now, it would have been more natural and more decorous to have at least seen my sister before proposing for her hand.”

“On the first point, my dear Mowbray,” said Lord Etherington, “I am free to own to you, that, without meaning your sister the least affront, I would have got rid of this clause if I could; for every man would fain choose a wife for himself, and I feel no hurry to marry at all. But the rogue-lawyers, after taking fees, and keeping me in hand for years, have at length roundly told me the clause must be complied with, or Nettlewood must have another master. So I thought it best to come down here in person, in order to address the fair lady; but as accident has hitherto prevented my seeing her, and as I found in her brother a man who understands the world, I hope you will not think the worse of me, that I have endeavoured in the outset to make you my friend. Truth is, I shall be twenty-five in the course of a month; and w[Pg 291]ithout your favour, and the opportunities which only you can afford me, that seems a short time to woo and win a lady of Miss Mowbray's merit.”

“And what is the alternative if you do not form this proposed alliance, my lord?” said Mowbray.

“The bequest of my grand-uncle lapses,” said the Earl, “and fair Nettlewood, with its old house, and older oaks, manorial rights, Hodge Trampclod, and all, devolves on a certain cousin-german of mine, whom Heaven of his mercy confound!”

“You have left yourself little time to prevent such an event, my lord,” said Mowbray; “but things being as I now see them, you shall have what interest I can give you in the affair.—We must stand, however, on more equal terms, my lord—I will condescend so far as to allow it would have been inconvenient for me at this moment to have lost that game, but I cannot in the circumstances think of acting as if I had fairly won it. We must draw stakes, my lord.”

“Not a word of that, if you really mean me kindly, my dear Mowbray. The blunder was a real one, for I was indeed thinking, as you may suppose, on other things than the showing my point—All was fairly lost and won.—I hope I shall have opportunities of offering real services, which may perhaps give me some right to your partial regard—at present we are on equal footing on all sides—perfectly so.”

“If your lordship thinks so,” said Mowbray,—and then passing rapidly to what he felt he could say with more confidence,—“Indeed, at any rate, no personal obligation to myself could prevent my doing my full duty as guardian to my sister.”

“Unquestionably, I desire nothing else,” replied the Earl of Etherington.

[Pg 292]

“I must therefore understand that your lordship is quite serious in your proposal; and that it is not to be withdrawn, even if upon acquaintance with Miss Mowbray, you should not perhaps think her so deserving of your lordship's attentions, as report may have spoken her.”

“Mr. Mowbray,” replied the Earl, “the treaty between you and me shall be as definite as if I were a sovereign prince, demanding in marriage the sister of a neighbouring monarch, whom, according to royal etiquette, he neither has seen nor could see. I have been quite frank with you, and I have stated to you that my present motives for entering upon negotiation are not personal, but territorial; when I know Miss Mowbray, I have no doubt they will be otherwise. I have heard she is beautiful.”

“Something of the palest, my lord,” answered Mowbray.

“A fine complexion is the first attraction which is lost in the world of fashion, and that which it is easiest to replace.”

“Dispositions, my lord, may differ,” said Mowbray, “without faults on either side. I presume your lordship has enquired into my sister's. She is amiable, accomplished, sensible, and high-spirited; but yet”——

“I understand you, Mr. Mowbray, and will spare you the pain of speaking out. I have heard Miss Mowbray is in some respects—particular; to use a broader word—a little whimsical.—No matter. She will have the less to learn when she becomes a countess, and a woman of fashion.”

“Are you serious, my lord?” said Mowbray.

“I am—and I will speak my mind still more plainly. I hav[Pg 293]e good temper, and excellent spirits, and can endure a good deal of singularity in those I live with. I have no doubt your sister and I will live happily together—But in case it should prove otherwise, arrangements may be made previously, which will enable us in certain circumstances to live happily apart. My own estate is large, and Nettlewood will bear dividing.”

“Nay, then,” said Mowbray, “I have little more to say—nothing indeed remains for enquiry, so far as your lordship is concerned. But my sister must have free liberty of choice—so far as I am concerned, your lordship's suit has my interest.”

“And I trust we may consider it as a done thing?”

“With Clara's approbation—certainly,” answered Mowbray.

“I trust there is no chance of personal repugnance on the young lady's part?” said the young peer.

“I anticipate nothing of the kind, my lord,” answered Mowbray, “as I presume there is no reason for any; but young ladies will be capricious, and if Clara, after I have done and said all that a brother ought to do, should remain repugnant, there is a point in the exertion of my influence which it would be cruelty to pass.”

The Earl of Etherington walked a turn through the apartment, then paused, and said, in a grave and doubtful tone, “In the meanwhile, I am bound, and the young lady is free, Mowbray. Is this quite fair?”

“It is what happens in every case, my lord, where a gentleman proposes for a lady,” answered Mowbray; “he must remain, of course, bound by his offer, until, withi[Pg 294]n a reasonable time, it is accepted or rejected. It is not my fault that your lordship has declared your wishes to me, before ascertaining Clara's inclination. But while as yet the matter is between ourselves—I make you welcome to draw back if you think proper. Clara Mowbray needs not push for a catch-match.”

“Nor do I desire,” said the young nobleman, “any time to reconsider the resolution which I have confided to you. I am not in the least fearful that I shall change my mind on seeing your sister, and I am ready to stand by the proposal which I have made to you.—If, however, you feel so extremely delicately on my account,” he continued, “I can see and even converse with Miss Mowbray at this fête of yours, without the necessity of being at all presented to her—The character which I have assumed in a manner obliges me to wear a mask.”

“Certainly,” said the Laird of St. Ronan's, “and I am glad, for both our sakes, your lordship thinks of taking a little law upon this occasion.”

“I shall profit nothing by it,” said the Earl; “my doom is fixed before I start—but if this mode of managing the matter will save your conscience, I have no objection to it—it cannot consume much time, which is what I have to look to.”

They then shook hands and parted, without any farther discourse which could interest the reader.

Mowbray was glad to find himself alone, in order to think over what had happened, and to ascertain the state of his own mind, which at present was puzzling even to himself. He could not but feel that much greater advantages of every kind might accrue to himself and his family from the alliance of the wealthy young Earl, than could have been derived from[Pg 295] any share of his spoils which he had proposed to gain by superior address in play, or greater skill on the turf. But his pride was hurt when he recollected that he had placed himself entirely in Lord Etherington's power; and the escape from absolute ruin which he had made, solely by the sufferance of his opponent, had nothing in it consolatory to his wounded feelings. He was lowered in his own eyes, when he recollected how completely the proposed victim of his ingenuity had seen through his schemes, and only abstained from baffling them entirely, because to do so suited best with his own. There was a shade of suspicion, too, which he could not entirely eradicate from his mind.—What occasion had this young nobleman to preface, by the voluntary loss of a brace of thousands, a proposal which must have been acceptable in itself, without any such sacrifice? And why should he, after all, have been so eager to secure his accession to the proposed alliance, before he had even seen the lady who was the object of it? However hurried for time, he might have waited the event at least of the entertainment at Shaws-Castle, at which Clara was necessarily obliged to make her appearance.—Yet such conduct, however unusual, was equally inconsistent with any sinister intentions; since the sacrifice of a large sum of money, and the declaration of his views upon a portionless young lady of family, could scarcely be the preface to any unfair practice. So that, upon the whole, Mowbray settled, that what was uncommon in the Earl's conduct arose from the hasty and eager disposition of a rich young Englishman, to whom money is of little consequence, and who is too headlong in pursuit of the favourite plan of the moment, to proce[Pg 296]ed in the most rational or most ordinary manner. If, however, there should prove any thing farther in the matter than he could at present discover, Mowbray promised himself that the utmost circumspection on his part could not fail to discover it, and that in full time to prevent any ill consequences to his sister or himself.

Immersed in such cogitations, he avoided the inquisitive presence of Mr. Meiklewham, who, as usual, had been watching for him to learn how matters were going on; and although it was now late, he mounted his horse, and rode hastily to Shaws-Castle. On the way, he deliberated with himself whether to mention to his sister the application which had been made to him, in order to prepare her to receive the young Earl as a suitor, favoured with her brother's approbation. “But no, no, no;” such was the result of his contemplation. “She might take it into her head that his thoughts were bent less upon having her for a countess, than on obtaining possession of his grand-uncle's estate.—We must keep quiet,” concluded he, “until her personal appearance and accomplishments may[Pg 297] appear at least to have some influence upon his choice.—We must say nothing till this blessed entertainment has been given and received.”

CHAPTER XIX. A LETTER.