seemed so reasonable, that nothing remained but to consider of
proper methods to accomplish her scheme. To attempt to reason the case
with Sophia did not appear to her one of those methods: for as Betty
had reported from Mrs. Honour, that Sophia had a violent inclination
to Jones, she conceived that to dissuade her from the match was an
endeavour of the same kind, as it would be very heartily and earnestly
to entreat a moth not to fly into a candle.
If the reader will please to remember, that the acquaintance which
Sophia had with Lady Bellaston was contracted at the house of Mrs.
Western, and must have grown at the very time when Mrs. Fitzpatrick
lived with this latter lady, he will want no information, that Mrs.
Fitzpatrick must have been acquainted with her likewise. They were,
besides, both equally her distant relations.
After much consideration, therefore, she resolved to go early in the
morning to that lady, and endeavour to see her, unknown to Sophia, and
to acquaint her with the whole affair. For she did not in the least
doubt, but that the prudent lady, who had often ridiculed romantic
love, and indiscreet marriages, in her conversation, would very
readily concur in her sentiments concerning this match, and would lend
her utmost assistance to prevent it.
This resolution she accordingly executed; and the next morning
before the sun, she huddled on her cloaths, and at a very
unfashionable, unseasonable, unvisitable hour, went to Lady Bellaston,
to whom she got access, without the least knowledge or suspicion of
Sophia, who, though not asleep, lay at that time awake in her bed,
with Honour snoring by her side.
Mrs. Fitzpatrick made many apologies for an early abrupt visit, at
an hour when, she said, "she should not have thought of disturbing her
ladyship, but upon business of the utmost consequence." She then
opened the whole affair, told all she had heard from Betty; and did
not forget the visit which Jones had paid to herself the preceding
evening.
Lady Bellaston answered with a smile, "Then you have seen this
terrible man, madam; pray, is he so very fine a figure as he is
represented? for Etoff entertained me last night almost two hours with
him. The wench, I believe, is in love with him by reputation." Here
the reader will be apt to wonder; but the truth is, that Mrs. Etoff,
who had the honour to pin and unpin the Lady Bellaston, had received
compleat information concerning the said Mr. Jones, and had faithfully
conveyed the same to her lady last night (or rather that morning)
while she was undressing; on which accounts she had been detained in
her office above the space of an hour and a half.
The lady indeed, though generally well enough pleased with the
narratives of Mrs. Etoff at those seasons, gave an extraordinary
attention to her account of Jones; for Honour had described him as a
very handsome fellow, and Mrs. Etoff, in her hurry, added so much to
the beauty of his person to her report, that Lady Bellaston began to
conceive him to be a kind of miracle in nature.
The curiosity which her woman had inspired was now greatly increased
by Mrs. Fitzpatrick, who spoke as much in favour of the person of
Jones as she had before spoken in dispraise of his birth, character,
and fortune.
When Lady Bellaston had heard the whole, she answered gravely,
"Indeed, madam, this is a matter of great consequence. Nothing can
certainly be more commendable than the part you act; and I shall be
very glad to have my share in the preservation of a young lady of so
much merit, and for whom I have so much esteem."
"Doth not your ladyship think," says Mrs. Fitzpatrick eagerly, "that
it would be the best way to write immediately to my uncle, and
acquaint him where my cousin is?"
The lady pondered a little upon this, and thus answered- "Why, no,
madam, I think not. Di Western hath described her brother to me to
be such a brute, that I cannot consent to put any woman under his
power who hath escaped from it. I have heard he behaved like a monster
to his own wife, for he is one of those wretches who think they have a
right to tyrannise over us, and from such I shall ever esteem it the
cause of my sex to rescue any woman who is so unfortunate to be
under their power.- The business, dear cousin, will be only to keep
Miss Western from seeing this young fellow, till the good company
which she will have an opportunity of meeting here, give her a
properer turn."
"If he should find out her, madam," answered the other, "your
ladyship may be assured he will leave nothing unattempted to come at
her."
"But, madam," replied the lady, "it is impossible he should come
here- though indeed it is possible he may get some intelligence where
she is, and then may lurk about the house- I wish therefore I knew
his person. Is there no way, madam, by which I could have a sight of
him? for, otherwise, you know, cousin, she may contrive to see him
here without my knowledge."
Mrs. Fitzpatrick answered, "That he had threatened her with
another visit that afternoon, and that, if her ladyship pleased to
do her the honour of calling upon her then, she would hardly fail of
seeing him between six and seven: and if he came earlier she would, by
some means or other, detain him till her ladyship's arrival."- Lady
Bellaston replied, "She would come the moment she could get from
dinner, which she supposed would be by seven at farthest; for that
it was absolutely necessary she should be acquainted with his
person. Upon my word, madam," says she, "it was very good to take this
care of Miss Western; but common humanity, as well as regard to our
family, requires it of us both; for it would be a dreadful match
indeed."
Mrs. Fitzpatrick failed not to make a proper return to the
compliment which Lady Bellaston had bestowed on her cousin, and, after
some little immaterial conversation, withdrew; and, getting as fast as
she could into her chair, unseen by Sophia or Honour, returned home.
Chapter 4
Which consists of visiting
Mr. Jones had walked within sight of a certain door during the whole
day, which, though one of the shortest, appeared to him to be one of
the longest in the whole year. At length, the clock having struck
five, he returned to Mrs. Fitzpatrick, who, though it was a full
hour earlier than the decent time of visiting, received him very
civilly; but still persisted in her ignorance concerning Sophia.
Jones, in asking for his angel, had dropped the word cousin, upon
which Mrs. Fitzpatrick said, "Then, sir, you know we are related: and,
as we are, you will permit me the right of inquiring into the
particulars of your business with my cousin." Here Jones hesitated a
good while, and at last answered, "He had a considerable sum of
money of hers in his hands, which he desired to deliver to her." He
then produced the pocket-book, and acquainted Mrs. Fitzpatrick with
the contents, and with the method in which they came into his hands.
He had scarce finished his story, when a most violent noise shook
the whole house. To attempt to describe this noise to those who have
heard it would be in vain; and to aim at giving any idea of it to
those who have never heard the like, would be still more vain: for
it may be truly said-
--------Non acuta
Sic geminant Corybantes aera.
The priests of Cybele do not so rattle their sounding brass.
In short, a footman knocked, or rather thundered, at the door. Jones
was a little surprized at the sound, having never heard it before; but
Mrs. Fitzpatrick very calmly said, that, as some company were
coming, she could not make him any answer now; but if he pleased to
stay till they were gone, she intimated she had something to say to
him.
The door of the room now flew open, and, after pushing in her hoop
sideways before her; entered Lady Bellaston, who having first made a
very low courtesy to Mrs. Fitzpatrick, and as low a one to Mr.
Jones, was ushered to the upper end of the room.
We mention these minute matters for the sake of some country
ladies of our acquaintance, who think it contrary to the rules of
modesty to bend their knees to a man.
The company were hardly well settled, before the arrival of the peer
lately mentioned, caused a fresh disturbance, and a repetition of
ceremonials.
These being over, the conversation began to be (as the phrase is)
extremely brilliant. However, as nothing past in it which can be
thought material to this history, or, indeed, very material in itself,
I shall omit the relation; the rather, as I have known some very
fine polite conversation grow extremely dull, when transcribed into
books, or repeated on the stage. Indeed, this mental repast is a
dainty, of which those who are excluded from polite assemblies must be
contented to remain as ignorant as they must of the several dainties
of French cookery, which are served only at the tables of the great.
To say the truth, as neither of these are adapted to every taste, they
might both be of thrown away on the vulgar.
Poor Jones was rather a spectator of this elegant scene, than an
actor in it; for though, in the short interval before the peer's
arrival, Lady Bellaston first, and afterwards Mrs. Fitzpatrick, had
addressed some of their discourse to him; yet no sooner was the
noble lord entered, than he engrossed the whole attention of the two
ladies to himself; and as he took no more notice of Jones than if no
such person had been present, unless by now and then staring at him,
the ladies followed his example.
The company had now staid so long, that Mrs. Fitzpatrick plainly
perceived they all designed to stay out each other. She therefore
resolved to rid herself of Jones, he being the visitant to whom she
thought the least ceremony was due. Taking therefore an opportunity of
a cessation of chat, she addressed herself gravely to him, and said,
"Sir, I shall not possibly be able to give you an answer to-night as
to that business; but if you please to leave word where I may send
to you to-morrow--"
Jones had natural, but not artificial good-breeding. Instead,
therefore, of communicating the secret of his lodgings to a servant,
he acquainted the lady herself with it particularly, and soon after
very ceremoniously withdrew.
He was no sooner gone, than the great personages, who had taken no
notice of him present, began to take much notice of him in his
absence; but if the reader hath already excused us from relating the
more brilliant part of this conversation, he will surely be ready to
excuse the repetition of what may be called vulgar abuse; though,
perhaps, it may be material to our history to mention an observation
of Lady Bellaston, who took her leave in a few minutes after him,
and then said to Mrs. Fitzpatrick, at her departure, "I am satisfied
on the account of my cousin; she can be in no danger from this
fellow."
Our history shall follow the example of Lady Bellaston, and take
leave of the present company, which was now reduced to two persons;
between whom, as nothing passed, which in the least concerns us or our
reader, we shall not suffer ourselves to be diverted by it from
matters which must seem of more consequence to all those who are at
all interested in the affairs of our heroe.
Chapter 5
An adventure which happened to Mr. Jones at his lodgings, with
some account of a young gentleman who lodged there, and of the
mistress of the house, and her two daughters
The next morning, as early as it was decent, Jones attended at
Mrs. Fitzpatrick's door, where he was answered that the lady was not
at home; an answer which surprized him the more, as he had walked
backwards and forwards in the street from break of day; and if she had
gone out, he must have seen her. This answer, however, he was
obliged to receive, and not only now, but to five several visits which
he made her that day.
To be plain with the reader, the noble peer had from some reason
or other, perhaps from a regard for the lady's honour, insisted that
she should not see Mr. Jones, whom he looked on as a scrub, any
more; and the lady had complied in making that promise to which we now
see her so strictly adhere.
But as our gentle reader may possibly have a better opinion of the
young gentleman than her ladyship, and may even have some concern,
should it be apprehended that, during this unhappy separation from
Sophia, he took up his residence either at an inn, or in the street;
we shall now give an account of his lodging, which was indeed in a
very reputable house, and in a very good part of the town.
Mr. Jones, then, had often heard Mr. Allworthy mention the
gentlewoman at whose house he used to lodge when he was in town.
This person, who, as Jones likewise knew, lived in Bond-street, was
the widow of a clergyman, and was left by him, at his decease, in
possession of two daughters, and of a compleat set of manuscript
sermons.
Of these two daughters, Nancy, the elder, was now arrived at the age
of seventeen, and Betty, the younger, at that of ten.
Hither Jones had dispatched Partridge, and in this house he was
provided with a room for himself in the second floor, and with one for
Partridge in the fourth.
The first floor was inhabited by one of those young gentlemen,
who, in the last age, were called men of wit and pleasure about
town, and properly enough; for as men are usually denominated from
their business or profession, so pleasure may be said to have been the
only business or profession of those gentlemen to whom fortune had
made all useful occupations unnecessary. Play-houses, coffee-houses,
and taverns were the scenes of their rendezvous. Wit and humour were
the entertainment of their looser hours, and love was the business
of their more serious moments. Wine and the muses conspired to
kindle the brightest flames in their breasts; nor did they only
