Book: Marriage

S >> Susan Edmonstone Ferrier >> Marriage




"I declare," said Miss Grizzy, as she ended her fifth perusal of the
letter, "Mary must be a happy creature, everybody must allow; indeed I
never heard it disputed that Lady Juliana is a most elegant being; and I
daresay she is greatly improved since we saw her, for you know that is a
long time ago."

"The mind may improve after a certain age," replied Jacky, with one of
her wisest looks, "but I doubt very much if the person does."

"If the inside had been like the out, there would have been no need for
improvement," observed Nicky.

"I'm sure you are both perfectly right," resumed the sapient Grizzy,
"and I have not the least doubt but that our dear niece is a great deal
wiser than when we knew her; nobody can deny but she is a great deal
older; and you know people always grow wiser as they grow older, of
course."

"They _ought_ to do it," said Jacky, with emphasis.

"But there's no fool like an old fool," quoth Nicky.

"What a delightful creature our charming niece Adelaide must be, from
Mary's account," said Grizzy; "only I can't conceive how her eyes come
to be black. I'm sure there's not a black eye amongst us. The
Kilnacroish family are black, to be sure; and Kilnacroish's
great-grandmother was first cousin, once removed, to our grandfather's
aunt, by our mother's side. It's wonderful the length that resemblances
run in some old families; and I really can't account for our niece
Adelaide's black eyes naturally any other way than just through the
Kilnacroish family; for I'm quite convinced it's from us she takes
them,--children always take their eyes from their father's side;
everybody knows that Becky's, and Bella's, and Baby's are all as like
their poor father's as they can stare."

"There's no accounting for the varieties of the human species," said
Jacky.

"And like's an ill mark," observed Nicky.

"And only think of her being so much taller than Mary, and twins! I
declare it's wonderful--I should have thought, indeed I never doubted,
that they would have been exactly the same size. And such a beautiful
colour too, when we used to think Mary rather pale; it's very
unaccountable!"

"You forget," said Jacky, who had not forgot the insult offered to her
nursing system eighteen years before; "you forget that I always
predicted what would happen."

"I never knew any good come of change," said Nicky.

"I'm sure that's very true," rejoined Grizzy; "and we have great reason
to thank our stars that Mary is not a perfect dwarf; which I really
thought she would have been for long, till she took a shooting,--summer
was a year."

"But she'll shoot no more," said Jacky, with a shake of the head that
might have vied with Jove's imperial nod; "England's not the place for
shooting."

"The Englishwomen are all poor droichs," said Nicky, who had seen three
in the course of her life.

"It's a great matter to us all, however, and to herself too, poor thing,
that Mary should be so happy," resumed Grizzy. "I'm sure I don't know
what she would have done if Lord Courtland had been an ill-tempered
harsh man, which, you know, he might just as easily have been; and it
would really have been very hard upon poor Mary--and Lady Emily such a
sweet creature too! I'm sure we must all allow we have the greatest
reason to be thankful."

"I don't know," said Jacky; "Mary was petted enough before, I wish she
may have a head to stand any more."

"She'll be ten times nicer than ever," quoth Nicky.

"There is some reason, to be sure, that can't be denied, to be afraid of
that; at the same time, Mary has a great deal of sense of her own when
she chooses; and it's a great matter for her, and indeed for all of us,
that she is under the eye of such a sensible worthy man as that Dr.
Redgill. Of course we may be sure Lord Courtland will keep a most
elegant table, and have a great variety of sweet things, which are
certainly very tempting for young people; but I have no doubt but Dr.
Redgill will look after Mary, and see that she doesn't eat too many of
them."

"Dr. Redgill must be a very superior man," pronounced Jacky, in her
most magisterial manner.

"If I could hear of a private opportunity," exclaimed Nicky, in a
transport of generosity, "I would send him one of our hams, and a nice
little pig [1] of butter--the English are all great people for
butter."

The proposal was hailed with rapture by both sisters in a breath; and it
was finally settled that to those tender pledges of Nicky's, Grizzy
should add a box of Lady Maclaughlan's latest invented pills, while Miss
Jacky was to compose the epistle that was to accompany them.

The younger set of aunts were astonished that Mary had said nothing
about lovers and offers of marriage, as they had always considered going
to England as synonymous with going to be married.

To Mrs. Douglas's more discerning eye, Mary's happiness did not appear
in so dazzling a light as to the weaker optics of her aunts.

"It is not like my Mary," thought she, "to rest so much on mere external
advantages; surely her warm affectionate heart cannot be satisfied with
the _grace_ of a mother and the _beauty_ of a sister. These she might
admire in a stranger; but where we seek for happiness we better prize
more homely attributes. Yet Mary is so open and confiding, I think she
could not have concealed from me had she experienced a disappointment."

Mrs. Douglas was not aware of the effect of her own practical lessons;
and that, while she was almost unconsciously practising the quiet
virtues of patience, and fortitude, and self-denial, and
unostentatiously sacrificing her own wishes to promote the comfort of
others, her example, like a kindly dew, was shedding its silent
influence on the embryo blossoms of her pupil's heart.

[1] Jar.




CHAPTER IV.

". . . So the devil prevails often; _opponit nubem,_ he claps cloud
between; some little objection; a stranger is come; or my head aches; or
the church is too cold; or I have letters to write; or I am not
disposed; or it is not yet time; or the time is past; these, and such as
these, are the clouds the devil claps between heaven and us; but these
are such impotent objections, that they were as soon confuted, as
pretended, by all men that are not fools, or professed enemies of
religion." --JEREMY TAYLOR.

LADY Juliana had in vain endeavoured to obtain a sick certificate for
her daughter, that would have authorised her consigning her to the
oblivion of her own apartment. The physicians whom she consulted all
agreed, for once, in recommending a totally different system to be
pursued; and her displeasure, in consequence, was violently excited
against the medical tribe in general, and Dr. Redgill in particular. For
that worthy she had indeed always entertained a most thorough contempt
and aversion; for he was poor, ugly, and vulgar, and these were the
three most deadly sins in her calendar. The object of her detestation
was, however, completely insensible to its effects. The Doctor, like
Achilles, was vulnerable but in one part, and over that she could
exercise no control. She had nothing to do with the _menage_--possessed
no influence over Lord Courtland, nor authority over Monsieur Grillade.
She differed from himself as to the dressing of certain dishes; and, in
short, he summed up her character in one emphatic sentence, that in his
idea conveyed severer censure than all that Pope or Young ever wrote--"
I don't think she has the taste of her mouth!"

Thus thwarted in her scheme, Lady Juliana's dislike to her daughter
rather increased than diminished; and it was well for Mary that lessons
of forbearance had been early infused into her mind; for her spirit was
naturally high, and would have revolted from the tyranny and injustice
with which she was treated had she not been taught the practical duties
of Christianity, and that "patience, with all its appendages, is the
sum total of all our duty that is proper to the day of sorrow."

Not that Mary sought, by a blind compliance with all her mother's
follies and caprices, to ingratiate herself into her favour--even the
motive she would have deemed insufficient to have sanctified the deed;
and the only arts she employed to win a place in her parent's heart were
ready obedience, unvarying sweetness, and uncomplaining submission.

Although Mary possessed none of the sour bigotry of a narrow mind, she
was yet punctual in the discharge of her religious duties; and the
Sunday following her arrival, as they sat at breakfast, she inquired of
her cousin at what time the church service began.

"I really am not certain--I believe it is late," replied her cousin
carelessly. "But why do you ask?'

"Because I wish to be there in proper time."

"But we scarcely ever go--never, indeed, to the parish church--and we
are rather distant from any other; so you must say your prayers at home."

"I would certainly prefer going to church," said Mary.

"Going to church!" exclaimed Dr. Redgill in amazement. "I wonder what
makes people so keen of going to church! I'm sure there's little good to
be got there. For my part, I declare I would just as soon think of going
into my grave. Take my word for it, churches and churchyards are rather
too nearly related."

"In such a day as this," said Mary, "so dry and sunny, I am sure there
can be no danger."

"Take your own way, Miss Mary," said the Doctor; "but I think it my
duty to let you know my opinion of churches. I look upon them as
extremely prejudicial to the health. They are invariably either too
hot or too cold; you are either stewed or starved in them; and, till some
improvement takes place, I assure you my foot shall never enter one of
them. In fact, they are perfect receptacles of human infirmities. I can
tell you one of your church-going ladies at a glance; they have all
rheumatisms in their shoulders, and colds in their heads, and swelled
faces. Besides it's a poor country church--there's nothing to be seen
after you do go."

"I assure you Lady Juliana will be excessively annoyed if you go," said
Lady Emily, as Mary rose to leave the room.

"Surely my mother cannot be displeased at my attending church!" said
Mary in astonishment.

"Yes, she can, and most certainly will. She never goes herself now,
since she had a quarrel with Dr. Barlow, the clergyman; and she can't
bear any of the family to attend him."

"And you have my sanction for staying away, Miss Mary," added the
Doctor.

"Is he a man of bad character?" asked Mary, as she stood irresolute
whether to proceed.

"Quite the reverse. He is a very good man; but he was scandalised at
Lady Juliana's bringing her dogs to church one day, and wrote her what
she conceived a most insolent letter about it. But here come your
lady-mamma and the culprits in question."

"Your Ladyship is just come in time to settle a dispute here," said the
Doctor, anxious to turn her attention from a hot muffin, which had just
been brought in, and which he meditated appropriating to himself: "I
have said all I can--(Was you looking at the toast, Lady Emily?)--I must
now leave it to your Ladyship to convince this young lady of the folly
of going to church."

The Doctor gained his point. The muffin was upon his own plate, while
Lady Juliana directed her angry look towards her daughter.

"Who talks of going to church?" demanded she.

Mary gently expressed her wish to be permitted to attend divine service.

"I won't permit it. I don't approve of girls going about by themselves.
It is vastly improper, and I won't hear of it."

"It is the only place I shall ask to go to," said Mary timidly; "but I
have always been accustomed to attend church, and---"

"That is a sufficient reason for my choosing that you should not attend
it here. I won't suffer a Methodist in the house."

"I assure you the Methodists are gaining ground very fast," said the
Doctor, with his mouth full. 'Pon my soul, I think it's very alarming!"

"Pray, what is so alarming in the apprehension? asked Lady Emily.

"What is so alarming! 'Pon my honour, Lady Emily, I'm astonished to hear
you ask such a question!"--muttering to himself, "zealots--fanatics--
enthusiasts--bedlamites! I'm sure everybody knows what Methodists are!"

"There has been quite enough said upon the subject," said Lady Juliana.

"There are plenty of sermons in the house, Miss Mary," continued the
Doctor, who, like many other people, thought he was always doing a
meritorious action when he could dissuade anybody from going to church.
"I saw a volume somewhere not long ago; and at any rate there's the
Spectator, if you want Sunday's reading--some of the papers there are as
good as any sermon you'll get from Dr. Barlow."

Mary, with fear and hesitation, made another attempt to overcome her
mother's prejudice, but in vain.

"I desire I may hear no more about it!" cried she, raising her voice.
"The clergyman is a most improper person. I won't suffer any of my
family to attend his church; and therefore, once for all, I won't hear
another syllable on the subject."

This was said in a tone and manner not to be disputed, and Mary felt her
resolution give way before the displeasure of her mother. A contest of
duties was new to her, and she could not all at once resolve upon
fulfilling one duty at the expense of another. "Besides," thought she,
"my mother thinks she is in the right. Perhaps, by degrees, I may bring
her to think otherwise; and it is surely safer to try to conciliate than
to determine to oppose."

But another Sabbath came, and Mary found she had made no progress in
obtaining the desired permission. She therefore began seriously to
commune with her own heart as to the course she ought to pursue.

The commandment of "Honour thy father and thy mother" had been deeply
imprinted on her mind, and few possessed higher notions of filial
reverence; but there was another precept which also came to her
recollection. "Whosoever loveth father and mother more than me cannot be
my disciple." "But I may honour and obey my parent without loving her
more than my Saviour," argued she with herself, in hopes of lulling her
conscience by this reflection. "But again," thought she, "the Scripture
saith, 'He that keepeth my commandments, he it is that loveth me.'" Then
she felt the necessity of owning that if she obeyed the commands of her
mother, when in opposition to the will of her God, she gave one of the
Scripture proofs of either loving or fearing her parent upon earth more
than her Father which is in heaven. But Mary, eager to reconcile
impossibilities--viz. the will of an ungodly parent with the holy
commands of her Maker--thought now of another argument to calm her
conscience. "The Scripture," said she, "says nothing positive about
attending public worship; and, as Lady Emily says, I may say my prayers
just as well at home." But the passages of Scripture were too deeply
imprinted on her mind to admit of this subterfuge. "Forsake not the
assembling of yourselves together." "Where two or three are gathered
together in my name, there will I be in the midst of them," etc. etc. But
alas! two or three never were gathered together at Beech Park, except
upon parties of pleasure, games of hazard, or purposes of conviviality.

The result of Mary's deliberations was a firm determination to do what
she deemed her duty, however painful. And she went in search of Lady
Emily, hoping to prevail upon her to use her influence with Lady Juliana
to grant the desired permission; or, should she fail in obtaining it, she
trusted her resolution would continue strong enough to enable her have
her mother's displeasure in this act of conscientious disobedience. She
met her cousin, with her bonnet on, prepared to go out.

"Dear Lady Emily," said she, "let me entreat of you to use your
influence with my mother to persuade her to allow me to go to church."

"In the first place," answered her cousin, "you may know that I have no
influence;--in the second, that Lady Juliana is never to be persuaded
into any thing;--in the third, I really can't suppose you are serious in
thinking it a matter of such vast moment whether or not you go to
church."

"Indeed I do," answered Mary earnestly. "I have been taught to consider
it as such; and----"

"Pshaw! nonsense! these are some of your stiff-necked Presbyterian
notions. I shall really begin to suspect you are a Methodist and yet you
are not at all like one."

"Pray, tell me," said Mary, with a smile, "what are your ideas of
a Methodist?"

"Oh! thank heaven, I know little about them!--almost as little as Dr.
Redgill, who, I verily believe, could scarcely tell the difference
betwixt a Catholic and a Methodist, except that the one dances and
t'other prays. But I am rather inclined to believe it is a sort of a
scowling, black-browed, hard-favoured creature, with its greasy hair
combed straight upon its flat forehead, and that twirls its thumbs, and
turns up its eyes, and speaks through its nose and, in short, is
everything that you are not, except in this matter--of going to church.
So, to avert all these evil signs from falling upon you, I shall make a
point of your keeping company with me for the rest of the day."

Again Mary became serious, as she renewed her entreaties to her
cousin to intercede with Lady Juliana that she might be allowed to
attend _any_ church.

"Not for kingdoms!" exclaimed she. "Her Ladyship is in one of her most
detestable humours to-day; not that I should mind that, if it was
anything of real consequence that I had to compass for you. A ball, for
instance--I should certainly stand by you there but I am really not so
fond of mischief as to enrage her for nothing!"

"Then I fear I must go to church without it," said Mary in a melancholy
tone.

"If you are to go at all, it must certainly be without it. And here is
the carriage--get your bonnet, and come along with me. You shall at
least have a sight of the church."

Mary went to put on her pelisse; and, descending to join her cousin in
the drawing-room, she found her engaged in an argument with Dr. Redgill.
How it had commenced did not appear; but the Doctor's voice was raised
as if to bring it to a decided termination.

"The French, madam, in spite of your prejudices, are a very superior
nation to us. Their skill and knowledge are both infinitely higher.
Every man in France is a first-rate cook--in fact, they are a nation of
cooks; and one of our late travellers assures us that they have
discovered three hundred methods of dressing eggs, for one thing."

"That is just two hundred and ninety-nine ways more than enough," said
Lady Emily "give me a plain boiled egg, and I desire no other variety of
the produce of a hen till it takes the form of a chicken."

Dr. Redgill lowered his eyebrows and drew up his chin, but disdained
to waste more arguments upon so tasteless a being. "To talk sense to a
woman is like feeding chickens upon turtle soup," thought he to
himself.

As for Lady Juliana, she exulted in the wise and judicious manner in
which she had exercised her authority, and felt her consequence greatly
increased by a public display of it--power being an attributes he was
very seldom invested with now. Indeed, to do her Ladyship justice, she
was most feelingly alive to the duty due to parents, though that such a
commandment existed seemed quite unknown to her till she became a
mother. But she made ample amends for former deficiencies now; as to
hear her expatiate on the subject, one would have deemed it the only
duty necessary to be practised, either by Christian or heathen, and
that, like charity, it comprehended every virtue, and was a covering for
every sin. But there are many more sensible people than her Ladyship who
entertain the same sentiments, and, by way of variety, reverse the time
and place of their duties. When they are children, they make many
judicious reflections on the duties of parents; when they become
parents, they then acquire a wonderful insight into the duties of
children. In the same manner husbands and wives are completely alive to
the duties incumbent upon each other, and the most ignorant servant is
fully instructed in the duty of a master. But we shall leave Lady
Juliana to pass over the duties of parents, and ponder upon those of
children, while we follow Lady Emily and Mary in their airing.

The road lay by the side of a river; and though Mary's taste had been
formed upon the wild romantic scenery of the Highlands, she yet looked
with pleasure on the tamer beauties of an English landscape. And though
accustomed to admire even "rocks where the snowflake reposes;" she had
also taste, though of a less enthusiastic kind, for the "gay landscapes
and gardens of roses," which, in this more genial clime, bloomed even
under winter's sway. The carriage drove smoothly along, and the sound of
the church bell fell at intervals on the ear, "in cadence sweet, now
dying all away;" and, at the holy sound, Mary's heart flew back to the
peaceful vale and primitive kirk of Lochmarlie, where all her happy
Sabbath had been spent. The view now opened upon the village church,
beautifully situated on the slope of a green hill. Parties of straggling
villagers in their holiday suits were descried in all directions, some
already assembled in the churchyard, others traversing the neat
footpaths that led through the meadows. But to Mary's eyes the
well-dressed English rustic, trudging along the smooth path, was a far
less picturesque object than the barefooted Highland girl, bounding over
trackless heath-covered hills; and the well-preserved glossy blue coat
seemed a poor substitute for the varied drapery of the graceful plaid.

So much do early associations tincture all our future ideas.

They had now reached the church, and as Mary adhered to her resolution
of attending divine worship, Lady Emily declared her intention of
accompanying her, that she might come in for her share of Lady Juliana's
displeasure; but in spite of her levity, the reverend aspect, and meek,
yet fervent piety of Dr. Barlow, impressed her with better feelings; and
she joined in the service with outward decorum if not with inward
devotion. The music consisted of an organ, simply but well played; and
to Mary, unaccustomed to any sacred sounds save those twanged through
the nose of a Highland _precentor,_ it seemed the music of the spheres.

Far different sounds than those of peace and praise awaited her return.
Lady Juliana, apprised of this open act of rebellion, was in all the
paroxysms incident to a little mind on discovering the impotence of its
power. She rejected all attempts at reconciliation; raved about
ingratitude and disobedience; declared her determination of sending Mary
back to her vulgar Scotch relations one moment--the next protested
she should never see those odious Methodists again; then she was to take
her to France, and shut her up in a convent, etc., till, after uttering
all the incoherences usual with ladies in a passion, she at last
succeeded in raving herself into a fit of hysterics.

Poor Mary was deeply affected at this (to her) tremendous display of
passion. She who had always been used to the mild placidity of Mrs.
Douglas, and who had seen her face sometimes clouded with sorrow, but
never deformed by anger-what a spectacle! To behold a parent subject to
the degrading influence of an ungovernable temper! Her very soul
sickened at the sight; and while she wept over her mother's weakness,
she prayed that the Power which stayed the ocean's wave would mercifully
vouchsafe to still the wilder tempests of human passion.




CHAPTER V.

"Why, all delights are vain; but that most vain,
Which, with pain purchased, doth inherit pain."

SHAKESPEARE.

IN addition to her mother's implacable wrath and unceasing animadversion
Mary found she was looked upon as a sort of alarming character by the
whole family. Lord Courtland seemed afraid of being drawn into a
religious controversy every time he addressed her. Dr. Redgill retreated
at her approach and eyed her askance, as much as to say, "'Pon my
honour, a young lady that can fly in her mother's face about such a
trifle as going to church is not very safe company." And Adelaide
shunned her more than ever, as if afraid of coming in contact with a
professed Methodist. Lady Emily, however, remained staunch to her; and
though she had her own private misgivings as to her cousin's creed, she
yet stoutly defended her from the charge of Methodism, and maintained
that, in many respects, Mary was no better than her neighbours.

"Well, Mary," cried she, as she entered her room one day with an air of
exultation, "here is an opportunity for you to redeem your character.
There," throwing down a card, "is an invitation for you to a fancy ball."

Mary's heart bounded at the mention of a ball. She had never been at
one, and it was pictured in her imagination in all the glowing colours
with which youth and inexperience deck untried pleasures.

"Oh, how charming!" exclaimed she, with sparkling eyes, "how my aunts
Becky and Bella will love to hear an account of a ball! And a fancy
ball!--what is that?"

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