trouble." Allworthy gently stopped her; but he was too good a man to
be really offended with the effects of so noble a principle as now
actuated Mrs. Miller; and indeed, had not this new affair inflamed his
former anger against Jones, it is possible he might have been a little
softened towards him, by the report of an action which malice itself
could not have derived from an evil motive.
Mr. Allworthy and Mrs. Miller had been above an hour together,
when their conversation was put an end to by the arrival of Blifil and
another person,which other person no less than Mr. Dowling, the
attorney, who was now become a great favourite with Mr. Blifil, and
whom Mr. Allworthy, at the desire of his nephew, had made his steward;
and had likewise recommended him to Mr. Western, from whom the
attorney received a promise of being promoted to the same office
upon the first vacancy; and, in the meantime, was employed in
transacting some affairs which the squire then had in London in
relation to a mortgage.
This was the principal affair which then brought Mr. Dowling to
town; therefore he took the same opportunity to charge himself with
some money for Mr. Allworthy, and to make a report to him of some
other business; in all which, as it was of much too dull a nature to
find any place in this history, we will leave the uncle, nephew, and
their lawyer concerned, and resort to other matters.
Chapter 8
Containing various matters
Before we return to Mr. Jones, we will take one more view of Sophia.
Though that young lady had brought her aunt into great good humour
by those soothing methods which we have before related, she had not
brought her in the least to abate of her zeal for the match with
Lord Fellamar. This zeal was now inflamed by Lady Bellaston, who had
told her the preceding evening, that she was well satisfied from the
conduct of Sophia, and from her carriage to his lordship, that all
delays would be dangerous, and that the only way to succeed was to
press the match forward with such rapidity that the young lady
should have no time to reflect, and be obliged to consent while she
scarce knew what she did; in which manner, she said, one-half of the
marriages among people of condition were brought about. A fact very
probably true, and to which, I suppose, is owing the mutual tenderness
which afterwards exists among so many happy couples.
A hint of the same kind was given by the same lady to Lord Fellamar;
and both these so readily embraced the advice, that the very next
day was, at his lordship's request, appointed by Mrs. Western for a
private interview between the young parties. This was communicated
to Sophia by her aunt, and insisted upon in such high terms, that,
after having urged everything she possibly could invent against it
without the least effect, she at last agreed to give the highest
instance of complacence which any young lady can give, and consented
to see his lordship.
As conversations of this kind afford no great entertainment, we
shall be excused from reciting the whole that past at this
interview; in which, after his lordship had made many declarations
of the most pure and ardent passion to the silent blushing Sophia, she
at last collected all the spirits she could raise, and with a
trembling low voice said, "My lord, you must be yourself conscious
whether your former behaviour to me hath been consistent with the
professions you now make." "Is there," answered he, "no way by which I
can atone for madness? what I did, I am afraid, must have too
plainly convinced you, that the violence of love had deprived me of my
senses." "Indeed, my lord," said she, "it is in your power to give
me a proof of an affection which I much rather wish to encourage,
and to which I should think myself more beholden." "Name it, madam,"
said my lord, very warmly. "My lord," says she, looking down upon
her fan, "I know you must be sensible how uneasy this pretended
passion of yours hath made me." "Can you be so cruel to call it
pretended?" says he. "Yes, my lord," answered Sophia, "all professions
of love to those whom we persecute are most insulting pretences.
This pursuit of yours is to me a most cruel persecution: nay, it is
taking a most ungenerous advantage of my unhappy situation." "Most
lovely, most adorable charmer, do not accuse me," cries he, "of taking
an ungenerous advantage, while I have no thoughts but what are
directed to your honour and interest, and while I have no view, no
hope, no ambition, but to throw myself, honour, fortune, everything at
your feet." "My lord," says she, "it is that fortune and those honours
which gave you the advantage of which I complain. These are the charms
which have seduced my relations, but to me they are things
indifferent. If your lordship will merit my gratitude, there is but
one way." "Pardon me, divine creature," said he, "there can be none.
All I can do for you is so much your due, and will give me so much
pleasure, that there is no room for your gratitude." "Indeed, my
lord," answered she, "you may obtain my gratitude, my good opinion,
every kind thought and wish which it is in my power to bestow; nay,
you may obtain them with ease, for sure to a generous mind it must
be easy to grant my request. Let me beseech you, then, to cease a
pursuit in which you can never have any success. For your own sake
as well as mine, I entreat this favour; for sure you are too noble
to have any pleasure in tormenting an unhappy creature. What can
your lordship propose but uneasiness to yourself by a perseverance,
which, upon my honour, upon my soul, cannot, shall not prevail with
me, whatever distresses you may drive me to." Here my lord fetched a
deep sigh, and then said- "Is it then, madam, that I am so unhappy to
be the object of your dislike and scorn; or will you pardon me if I
suspect there is some other?" Here he hesitated, and Sophia answered
with some spirit, "My lord, I shall not be accountable to you for
the reasons of my conduct. I am obliged to your lordship for the
generous offer you have made; I own it is beyond either my deserts
or expectations; yet I hope, my lord, you will not insist on my
reasons, when I declare I cannot accept it." Lord Fellamar returned
much to this, which we do not perfectly understand, and perhaps it
could not all be strictly reconciled either to sense or grammar; but
he concluded his ranting speech with saying, "That if she had
pre-engaged herself to any gentleman, however unhappy it would make
him, he should think himself bound in honour to desist." Perhaps my
lord laid too much emphasis on the word gentleman; for we cannot
else well account for the indignation with which he inspired Sophia,
who, in her answer, seemed greatly to resent some affront he had given
her.
While she speaking, with her voice more raised than usual, Mrs.
Western came into the room, the fire glaring in her cheeks, and the
flames bursting from her eyes. "I am ashamed," says she, "my lord,
of the reception which you have met with. I assure your lordship, we
are all sensible of the honour done us; and I must tell you, Miss
Western, the family expect a different behaviour from you." Here my
lord interfered on behalf of the young lady, but to no purpose; the
aunt proceeded till Sophia pulled her handkerchief, threw herself into
a chair, and burst into a violent fit of tears.
The remainder of the conversation between Mrs. Western and his
lordship, till the latter withdrew, consisted of bitter lamentations
on his side, and on hers of the strongest assurances that her niece
should and would consent to all he wished. "Indeed, my lord," says
she, "the girl hath had a foolish education, neither adapted to her
fortune nor her family. Her father, I am sorry to say it, is to
blame for everything. The girl hath silly country notions of
bashfulness. Nothing else, my lord, upon my honour; I am convinced she
hath a good understanding at the bottom, and will be brought to
reason."
This last speech was made in the absence of Sophia; for she had some
time before left the room, with more appearance of passion than she
had ever shown on any occasion; and now his lordship, after many
expressions of thanks to Mrs. Western, many ardent professions of
passion which nothing could conquer, and many assurances of
perseverance, which Mrs. Western highly encouraged, took his leave for
this time.
Before we relate what now passed between Mrs. Western and Sophia, it
may be proper to mention an unfortunate accident which had happened,
and which had occasioned the return of Mrs. Western with so much fury,
as we have seen.
The reader then must know, that the maid who at present attended
on Sophia was recommended by Lady Bellaston, with whom she had lived
for some time in the capacity of a comb-brush: she was a very sensible
girl, and had received the strictest instructions to watch her young
lady very carefully. These instructions, we are sorry to say, were
communicated to her by Mrs. Honour, into whose favour Lady Bellaston
had now so ingratiated herself, that the violent affection which the
good waiting-woman had formerly borne to Sophia was entirely
obliterated by that great attachment which she had to her new
mistress.
Now, when Mrs. Miller was departed, Betty (for that was the name
of the girl), returning to her young lady, found her very
attentively engaged in reading a long letter, and the visible emotions
which she betrayed on that occasion might have well accounted for some
suspicions which the girl entertained; but in, deed they had yet a
stronger foundation, for she had overheard the whole scene which
passed between Sophia and Mrs. Miller.
Mrs. Western was acquainted with all this matter by Betty, who,
after receiving many commendations and some rewards for her
fidelity, was ordered, that, if the woman who brought the letter
came again, she should introduce her to Mrs. Western herself.
Unluckily, Mrs. Miller returned at the very time when Sophia was
engaged with his lordship. Betty, according to order, sent her
directly to the aunt; who, being mistress of so many circumstances
relating to what had past the day before, easily imposed upon the poor
woman to believe that Sophia had communicated the whole affair; and
so pumped everything out of her which she knew relating to the
letter and relating to Jones.
This poor creature might, indeed, be called simplicity itself. She
was one of that order of mortals who are apt to believe everything
which is said to them; to whom nature hath neither indulged the
offensive nor defensive weapons of deceit, and who are consequently
liable to be imposed upon by any one who will only be at the expense
of a little falsehood for that purpose. Mrs. Western, having drained
Mrs. Miller of all she knew, which, indeed, was but little, but
which was sufficient to make the aunt suspect a great deal,
dismissed her with assurances that Sophia would not see her, that
she would send no answer to the letter, nor ever receive another;
nor did she suffer her to depart without a handsome lecture on the
merits of an office to which she could afford no better name than that
of procuress.- This discovery had greatly discomposed her temper,
when, coming into the apartment next to that in which the lovers were,
she overheard Sophia very warmly protesting against his lordship's
addresses. At which the rage already kindled burst forth, and she
rushed in upon her niece in a most furious manner, as we have
already described, together with what past at that time till his
lordship's departure.
No sooner was Lord Fellamar gone, than Mrs. Western returned to
Sophia, whom she upbraided in the most bitter terms for the ill use
she had made of the confidence reposed in her; and for her treachery
in conversing with a man with whom she had offered but the day
before to bind herself in the most solemn oath never more to have
any conversation. Sophia protested she had maintained no such
conversation. "How, how! Miss Western," said the aunt; "will you
deny your receiving a letter from him yesterday?" "A letter, madam!"
answered Sophia, somewhat surprized. "It is not very well bred, miss,"
replies the aunt, "to repeat my words. I say a letter, and I insist
upon your showing it me immediately." "I scorn a lie, madam," said
Sophia; "I did receive a letter, but it was without my desire, and,
indeed, I may say, against my consent." "Indeed, indeed, miss,"
cries the aunt, "you ought to be ashamed of owning you had received it
at all; but where is the letter? for I will see it."
To this peremptory demand, Sophia paused some time before she
returned an answer; and at last only excused herself by declaring
she had not the letter in her pocket, which was, indeed, true; upon
which her aunt, losing all manner of patience, asked her niece this
short question, whether she would resolve to marry Lord Fellamar, or
no? to which she received the strongest negative. Mrs. Western then
replied with an oath, or something very like one, that she would early
the next morning deliver her back into her father's hand.
Sophia then began to reason with her aunt in the following
manner:- "Why, madam, must I of necessity be forced to marry at all?
Consider how cruel you would have thought it in your own case, and how
much kinder your parents were in leaving you to your liberty. What
have I done to forfeit this liberty? I will never marry contrary to my
father's consent, nor without asking yours-- And when I ask the
consent of either improperly, it will be then time enough to force
some other marriage upon me. "Can I bear to hear this," cries Mrs.
Western, "from a girl who hath now a letter from a murderer in her
