I will not do it now; you may retire to yourchamber, and when I have any occasion to speak with you, I will send amessenger to you; so, my undeserving lady countess, you may walk out ofthe room."
I was going to reply to all this, but instead of hearing me, he began tospeak against the Quaker, who, he supposed, knew all the intrigues of mylife; but I cleared her innocence, by solemnly declaring it was athorough reformation of my past life that carried me to live at theQuaker's house, who knew nothing of me before I went to live with her,and that she was, I believed, a virtuous woman.
I went away prodigiously chagrined. I knew not what course to take; Ifound expostulation signified nothing, and all my hopes depended on whatI might say to him after we were gone to bed at night. I sent in forAmy, and having told her our discourse, she said she knew not what tothink of him, but hoped it would, by great submission, wear off bydegrees. I could eat but little dinner, and Amy was more sorrowful thanhungry, and after we had dined, we walked by ourselves in the garden,to know what we had best pursue. As we were walking about, Thomas cameto us, and told us that the young woman who had caused all the words,had been at the door, and delivered a letter to my lord's footman, whohad carried it upstairs, and that she was ordered to go to his lordshipin his study, which struck me with a fresh and sensible grief. I toldThomas, as he was to be her brother, to learn what my lord had said toher, if he could, as she came down; on which he went into the house toobey his order.
He was not gone in above a quarter of an hour before he came to meagain, and told me she was gone, and that my lord had given her a purseof twenty guineas, with orders to live retired, let nobody know who orwhat she was, and come to him again in about a month's time. I was verymuch satisfied to hear this, and was in hopes of its proving a happyomen; and I was better pleased about two hours after, when Thomas cameto me to let me know that my lord had given him thirty guineas, and bidhim take off his livery, and new clothe himself, for he intended to makehim his first clerk, and put him in the way of making his fortune. I nowthought it was impossible for me to be poor, and was inwardly rejoicedthat my children (meaning Thomas and Susanna) were in the high road togrow rich.
As Amy and I had dined by ourselves, my lord kept his study all the day,and at night, after supper, Isabel came and told me that my lord's manhad received orders to make his bed in the crimson room, which name itreceived from the colour of the bed and furniture, and was reservedagainst the coming of strangers, or sickness. When she had delivered hermessage she withdrew, and I told Amy it would be to no purpose to go tohim again, but I would have her lie in a small bed, which I orderedimmediately to be carried into my chamber. Before we went to bed, I wentto his lordship to know why he would make us both look so little amongour own servants, as to part, bed and board, so suddenly. He only said,"My Lady Roxana knows the airs of quality too well to be informed that ascandal among nobility does not consist in parting of beds; if youcannot lie by yourself, you may send a letter to my Lord ----, whom youlived with as a mistress in London; perhaps he may want a bedfellow aswell as you, and come to you at once; you are too well acquainted withhim to stand upon ceremony."
I left him, with my heart full of malice, grief, shame, and revenge. Idid not want a good will to do any mischief; but I wanted an unlimitedpower to put all my wicked thoughts in execution.
Amy and I lay in our chamber, and the next morning at breakfast we weretalking of what the servants (for there were thirteen of them in all,viz., two coachmen, four footmen, a groom, and postillion, two womencooks, two housemaids, and a laundry-maid, besides Isabel, who was mywaiting-maid, and Amy, who acted as housekeeper) could say of thedisturbance that was in the family. "Pho!" said Amy, "never trouble yourhead about that, for family quarrels are so common in noblemen's houses,both here and in England, that there are more families parted, both inbed and board, than live lovingly together. It can be no surprise to theservants, and if your neighbours should hear it, they will only thinkyou are imitating the air of nobility, and have more of that blood inyou than you appeared to have when you and your lord lived happilytogether."
The time, I own, went very sluggishly on. I had no company but Amy andIsabel, and it was given out among the servants of noblemen and gentrythat I was very much indisposed, for I thought it a very improper timeeither to receive or pay visits.
In this manner I lived till the month was up that my daughter was tocome again to my lord, for although I went morning, noon, and night,into his apartment to see him, I seldom had a quarter of an hour'sdiscourse with him, and oftentimes one of his valets would be sent totell me his lord was busy, a little before the time I usually went,which I found was to prevent my going in to him, but this was only whenhe was in an ill humour, as his man called it.
Whether my lord used to make himself uneasy for want of mine or othercompany, I cannot tell, but the servants complained every day, as Iheard by Amy, that his lordship ate little or nothing, and wouldsometimes shed tears when he sat down by himself to breakfast, dinner,or supper; and, indeed, I began to think that he looked very thin, hiscountenance grew pale, and that he had every other sign of a grieved orbroken heart.
My daughter came to him one Monday morning, and stayed with him in hisstudy near two hours. I wondered at the reason of it, but could guess atnothing certain; and at last she went away, but I fixed myself so as tosee her as she passed by me, and she appeared to have a countenance fullof satisfaction.
In the evening, when I went in as usual, he spoke to me in a freer stylethan he had done since our breach. "Well, madam" (for he had not usedthe words "my lady" at any time after my daughter's coming to ourhouse), said he, "I think I have provided for your daughter." "As how,my lord, pray will you let me know?" said I. "Yes," replied he, "as Ihave reason to think you will be sorry to hear of her welfare in anyshape, I will tell you. A gentleman who is going factor for the DutchEast India Company, on the coast of Malabar, I have recommended her to;and he, on my character and promise of a good fortune, will marry hervery soon, for the Company's ships sail in about twelve days; so, in afortnight, like a great many mothers as there are nowadays, you mayrejoice at having got rid of one of your children, though you neitherknow where, how, or to whom."
Although I was very glad my lord spoke to me at all, and more especiallyso at my daughter's going to be married, and settling in the Indies, yethis words left so sharp a sting behind them as was exceeding troublesometo me to wear off. I did not dare venture to make any further inquiries,but was very glad of what I heard, and soon bidding my lord goodnight,went and found Amy, who was reading a play in the chamber.
I waited with the greatest impatience for this marriage; and when Ifound the day was fixed, I made bold to ask my lord if I should not bepresent in his chamber when the ceremony was performed. This favor wasalso denied me. I then asked my lord's chaplain to speak to him on thathead, but he was deaf to his importunities, and bade him tell me that Ivery well knew his mind. The wedding was performed on a Wednesdayevening, in my lord's presence, and he permitted nobody to be there buta sister of the bridegroom's, and Thomas (now my lord's secretary orchief clerk), who was brother to the bride, and who gave her away. Theyall supped together after the ceremony was over in the greatdining-room, where the fortune was paid, which was L2000 (as I heardfrom Thomas afterwards), and the bonds for the performance of themarriage were redelivered.
Next morning my lord asked me if I was willing to see my daughter beforeshe sailed to the Indies. "My lord," said I, "as the seeing of her wasthe occasion of this great breach that has happened between us, so ifyour lordship will let me have a sight of her and a reconciliation withyou at the same time, there is nothing can be more desirable to me, orwould more contribute to my happiness during the rest of my life."
"No, madam," says he, "I would have you see your daughter, to bereconciled to her, and give her your blessing (if a blessing can proceedfrom you) at parting; but our reconciliation will never be completedtill one of us comes near the verge of life, if then; for I am a manthat
am never reconciled without ample amends, which is a thing that isnot in your power to give, without you can alter the course of natureand recall time."
On hearing him declare himself so open, I told him that my curse insteadof my blessing would pursue my daughter for being the author of all themischiefs that had happened between us. "No, madam," said he, "if youhad looked upon her as a daughter heretofore, I should have had nooccasion to have had any breach with you. The whole fault lies at yourown door; for whatever your griefs may inwardly be, I would have yourecollect they were of your own choosing."
I found I was going to give way to a very violent passion, which wouldperhaps be the worse for me, so I left the room and went up to my ownchamber, not without venting bitter reproaches both against my daughterand her unknown