the nature of mine, as I listened to him, I need not attempt to describe. For a minute or two, I remained in the same spot, overpowered by wonder – of a most agreable sort indeed; yet it required some consideration to be tranquilly happy.
In about ten minutes after my return to the parlour, Lady Susan entered the room. I concluded, of course, that she & Reginald had been quarrelling, & looked with anxious curiosity for a confirmation of my beleif in her face. Mistress of Deceit, however, she appeared perfectly unconcerned, & after chatting on indifferent subjects for a short time, said to me, “I find from Wilson that we are going to lose Mr. De Courcy – is it true that he leaves Churchill this morning?” I replied that it was. “He told us nothing of all this last night,” said she, laughing, “or even this morning at Breakfast; but perhaps he did not know it himself. Young Men are often hasty in their resolutions – & not more sudden in forming than unsteady in keeping them. I should not be surprised if he were to change his mind at last, & not go.” She soon afterwards left the room. I trust, however, my dear Mother, that we have no reason to fear an alteration of his present plan; things have gone too far. They must have quarrelled, & about Frederica too. Her calmness astonishes me. What delight will be yours in seeing him again, in seeing him still worthy of your Esteem, still capable of forming your Happiness!
When I next write, I shall be able, I hope, to tell you that Sir James is gone, Lady Susan vanquished, & Frederica at peace. We have much to do, but it shall be done. I am all impatience to hear how this astonishing change was effected. I finish as I began, with the warmest congratulations.
Yrs Ever,
CATH. VERNON.
LETTER TWENTY-FOUR
FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME
Churchhill.
Little did I imagine, my dear Mother, when I sent off my last letter, that the delightful perturbation of spirits I was then in would undergo so speedy, so melancholy a reverse! I never can sufficiently regret that I wrote to you at all. Yet who could have foreseen what has happened? My dear Mother, every hope which but two hours ago made me so happy is vanished. The quarrel between Lady Susan & Reginald is made up, & we are all as we were before. One point only is gained; Sir James Martin is dismissed. What are we now to look forward to? I am indeed disappointed. Reginald was all but gone, his horse was ordered & all but brought to the door! Who would not have felt safe?
For half an hour, I was in momentary expectation of his departure. After I had sent off my Letter to you, I went to Mr. Vernon, & sat with him in his room talking over the whole matter. I then determined to look for Frederica, whom I had not seen since breakfast. I met her on the stairs, & saw that she was crying.
“My dear Aunt,” said she, “he is going – Mr. De Courcy is going, & it is all my fault. I am afraid you will be angry, but indeed I had no idea it would end so.”
“My Love,” replied I, “do not think it necessary to apologize to me on that account. I shall feel myself under an obligation to any one who is the means of sending my brother home, because,” recollecting myself, “I know my Father wants very much to see him. But what is it that you have done to occasion all this?”
She blushed deeply as she answered, “I was so unhappy about Sir James that I could not help – I have done something very wrong I know – but you have not an idea of the misery I have been in, & Mama had ordered me never to speak to you or my Uncle about it, – & –” “You therefore spoke to my Brother, to engage his interference,” said I, to save her the explanation. “No; but I wrote to him – I did indeed. I got up this morning before it was light – I was two hours about it – & when my Letter was done, I thought I never should have courage to give it. After breakfast, however, as I was going to my room, I met him in the passage, & then, as I knew that everything must depend on that moment, I forced myself to give it. He was so good as to take it immediately. I dared not look at him, & ran away directly. I was in such a fright that I could hardly breathe. My dear Aunt, you do not know how miserable I have been.”
“Frederica,” said I, “you ought to have told me all your distresses. You would have found in me a friend always ready to assist you. Do you think that your Uncle & I should not have espoused your cause as warmly as my Brother?”
“Indeed, I did not doubt your goodness,” said she, colouring again, “but I thought Mr. De Courcy could do anything with my Mother; but I was mistaken: they have had a dreadful quarrel about it, & he is going. Mama will never forgive me, & I shall be worse off than ever.” “No, you shall not,” replied I. – “In such a point as this, your Mother’s prohibition ought not to have prevented your speaking to me on the subject. She has no right to make you unhappy, & she shall not do it. Your applying, however, to Reginald can be productive only of Good to all parties. I beleive it is best as it is. Depend upon it that you shall not be made unhappy any longer.”
At that moment, how great was my astonishment at seeing Reginald come out of Lady Susan’s Dressing room. My heart misgave me instantly. His confusion on seeing me was very evident. Frederica immediately disappeared. “Are you going?” said I. “You will find Mr. Vernon in his own room.” “No, Catherine,” replied he, “I am not going. Will you let me speak to you a moment?”
We went into my room. “I find,” continued he, his confusion increasing as he spoke, “that I have been acting with my usual foolish impetuosity. I have entirely misunderstood Lady Susan, & was on the point of leaving the house under a false impression of her conduct. There has been some very great mistake – we have been all mistaken, I fancy. Frederica does not know her Mother – Lady Susan means nothing but her Good – but Frederica will not make a friend of her. Lady Susan therefore does not always know what will make her daughter happy. Besides, I could have no right to interfere – Miss Vernon was mistaken in applying to me. In short, Catherine, everything has gone wrong – but it is now all happily settled. Lady Susan, I beleive, wishes to speak to you about it, if you are at leisure.”
“Certainly,” replied I, deeply sighing at the recital of so lame a story. I made no comments, however, for words would have been vain.
Reginald was glad to get away; & I went to Lady Susan; curious, indeed, to hear her account of it. “Did I not tell you,” said she, with a smile, “that your Brother would not leave us after all?” “You did, indeed,” replied I, very gravely; “but I flattered myself that you would be mistaken.” “I should not have hazarded such an opinion,” returned she, “if it had not at that moment occurred to me that his resolution of going might be occasioned by a Conversation in which we had been this morning engaged, & which had ended very much to his Dissatisfaction, from our not rightly understanding each other’s meaning. This idea struck me at the moment, & I instantly determined that an accidental dispute, in which I might probably be as much to blame as himself, should not deprive you of your Brother. If you remember, I left the room almost immediately. I was resolved to lose no time in clearing up those mistakes as far as I could. The case was this: Frederica had set herself violently against marrying Sir James –” “And can your Ladyship wonder that she should?” cried I, with some warmth; “Frederica has an excellent Understanding, & Sir James has none.” “I am at least very far from regretting it, my dear sister,” said she; “on the contrary, I am grateful for so favourable a sign of my Daughter’s sense. Sir James is certainly under par – (his boyish manners make him appear the worse) – & had Frederica possessed the penetration, the abilities which I could have wished in my Daughter, or had I even known her to possess as much as she does, I should not have been anxious for the match.” “It is odd that you should alone be ignorant of your Daughter’s sense.” “Frederica never does justice to herself; her manners are shy & childish. She is besides
