The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson, Volumes One and Two. Harriette Wilson

The Memoirs of Harriette Wilson, Volumes One and Two - Harriette Wilson


Скачать книгу
fever, during which her life was despaired of for several weeks: indeed, there was scarcely a hope of her recovery. I remember Ponsonby said to me one night, as we passed by Lady Jersey's house together—'The loveliest young creature I have ever beheld on earth lies in that room dying.' The first time Lady Fanny appeared in her mother's drawing-room she resembled a spirit so fair, so calm, so transparent. All her magnificent hair, which had before reached and now again descends much below her waist, had been shorn from her beautiful little head. She often took her lace cap off and exhibited herself thus to anybody, to raise a laugh; or perhaps she knew that she was, even without hair, as lovely as ever.

      "Lord Ponsonby, as he has told me since, was present when her ladyship first left her room, and soon discovered that she was now afflicted with deafness. He felt the deepest interest, admiration and pity for her. He considered with horror the bare possibility of this sweet, fragile little being, becoming the wife of some man, who might hereafter treat her harshly. Added to this, I fancy," continued Lee, "Ponsonby had discovered that he was not indifferent to her little ladyship; so, to secure her from any of these evils, he resolved to propose for her himself. I need not add that he was joyfully accepted by both mother and daughter. He might have done better," added Lee, "and I fancy Ponsonby sometimes wishes that his wife could be his friend and companion: but that is quite out of the question. Her ladyship is good and will do as she is bid; but, besides her deafness, her understanding is neither bright nor lively. Lord Ponsonby shows her the sort of indulgence and tenderness which a child requires; but he must seek for a companion elsewhere."

      Mr. Lee then took leave of me: and a very few days after this conversation had taken place, Lord Ponsonby's father breathed his last in the arms of his son, who immediately left town without seeing me; but he wrote to me most affectionately.

       Table of Contents

      A few days after his departure I was surprised by a visit from Sir William Abdy, with whom I was but very slightly acquainted. I thought it strange his paying any visits so immediately after the elopement of his wife, who was a natural daughter of the Marquis Wellesley by a Frenchwoman, who, as I am told, once used to walk in the Palais Royal at Paris, but afterwards became Marchioness of Wellesley.

      "I have called upon you, Miss Harriette," said Sir William, almost in tears, "in the first place, because you are considered exactly like my wife,"—my likeness to Lady Abdy had often been thought very striking—"and, in the second, because I know you are a woman of feeling!"

      I opened my eyes in astonishment.

      "Women," he continued, "have feeling, and that's more than men have."

      I could not conceive what he would be at.

      "You know, Miss Harriette, all about what has happened, and my crim. con. business, don't you, miss?"

      "Yes."

      "Could you have thought it?"

      "Oh yes!"

      "And yet, I am sure, Charles Bentinck is worse than I am."

      "In what way, pray?"

      "Why, a worse head," said Sir William, touching his forehead, "and I don't pretend to be clever myself."

      

      "Is that all? But I would not be so very demonstrative as to touch my forehead, if I were you."

      "That Charles Bentinck," said he, half angry, "is the greatest fool in the world; and in Paris we always used to laugh at him."

      "But," said I, "why did you suffer his lordship to be eternally at your house?"

      "Why, dear me!" answered Abdy, peevishly, "I told him in a letter I did not like it and I thought it wrong, and he told me it was no such thing."

      "And therefore," I remarked, "you suffered him to continue his visits as usual?"

      "Why, good gracious, what could I do! Charles Bentinck told me, upon his honour, he meant nothing wrong."

      "This man is really too good!" thought I, and then I affected the deepest commiseration of his mishap.

      "Why did she run away from you?" said I. "Why not, at least, have carried on the thing quietly?"

      "That's what I say," said Abdy.

      "Because," I continued, "had she remained with you sir, you would have always looked forward with hope to that period when age and ugliness should destroy all her power of making conquests."

      "Oh," said Abdy, clasping his hands, "if any real friend like you had heartened me up in this way at the time, I could have induced her to have returned to me! But then, Miss Wilson, they all said I should be laughed at and frightened me to death. It was very silly to be sure of me to mind them; for it is much better to be laughed at, than to be so dull and miserable as I am now."

      "Shall I make you a cup of tea, Sir William?"

      "Oh! Miss, you are so good! tea is very refreshing when one is in trouble."

      I hastened to my bell, to conceal the strong inclination I felt to laugh in his face, and ordered tea.

      "Green tea is the best, is it not, Miss?" said Sir William.

      "Oh, yes," answered I, "as green as a willow leaf: and in extreme cases like yours I am apt to recommend a little gunpowder."

      "Just as you please, Miss."

      I asked him, after he had swallowed three cups of tea, whether he did not feel himself a little revived.

      "Yes, Miss, I should soon get better here; but you know my house is such a very dull house and in such a very dull street too! Hill-street is, I think, the dullest street in all London, do you know, Miss Wilson."

      "True, Sir William! would not you like to go to Margate?"

      "Why I was thinking of travelling, for you know in Hill Street, there is her sofa just as she left."

      "Very nervous indeed," said I, interrupting him. "I would burn the sofa at all events."

      "And then there is her pianoforte."

      "Lady Abdy was musical then?"

      "Oh, very. She was always at it! I used to be tired to death of her music and often wished she would leave off: but now she is gone Miss Wilson, I would give the world to hear her play Foote's minuet!"

      "Or, 'Off she goes,'" added I.

      "What is that, pray, Miss?"

      "A very lively dance," I answered.

      "True, Miss, I recollect my wife used to play it."

      "Dear me, Sir William, how could she be so foolish as to run away? I dare say you never interfered with her, or entered her room without knocking."

      "Never, upon my honour."

      "Well, I always heard you were a very kind, obliging, good-natured husband."

      "Yes, and sometimes, when I used to knock latterly, Lady Abdy would not open the door!"

      "That was wrong," said I, shaking my head, "very wrong."

      "And how could that nasty, stupid fellow seduce her I cannot think!"

      

      "There was good blood in her veins, you know, by the mother's side. Besides, to tell you the truth, I don't think Charles Bentinck did seduce Lady Abdy from you."

      "Oh! dear, Miss Wilson, what do you mean?"

      "Shall I speak frankly?"

      "Oh, Lord a mercy! pray do! I am quite in a fright!"

      "I think Fred Lamb was one of her seducers; but how many more may have had a finger in the pie, I really cannot


Скачать книгу