Chapter iv.
The history of Mrs Fitzpatrick.
Mrs Fitzpatrick, after a silence of a few moments, fetching a deepsigh, thus began:
"It is natural to the unhappy to feel a secret concern in recollectingthose periods of their lives which have been most delightful to them.The remembrance of past pleasures affects us with a kind of tendergrief, like what we suffer for departed friends; and the ideas of bothmay be said to haunt our imaginations.
"For this reason, I never reflect without sorrow on those days (thehappiest far of my life) which we spent together when both were underthe care of my aunt Western. Alas! why are Miss Graveairs and MissGiddy no more? You remember, I am sure, when we knew each other by noother names. Indeed, you gave the latter appellation with too muchcause. I have since experienced how much I deserved it. You, mySophia, was always my superior in everything, and I heartily hope youwill be so in your fortune. I shall never forget the wise and matronlyadvice you once gave me, when I lamented being disappointed of a ball,though you could not be then fourteen years old.----O my Sophy, howblest must have been my situation, when I could think such adisappointment a misfortune; and when indeed it was the greatest I hadever known!"
"And yet, my dear Harriet," answered Sophia, "it was then a seriousmatter with you. Comfort yourself therefore with thinking, thatwhatever you now lament may hereafter appear as trifling andcontemptible as a ball would at this time."
"Alas, my Sophia," replied the other lady, "you yourself will thinkotherwise of my present situation; for greatly must that tender heartbe altered if my misfortunes do not draw many a sigh, nay, many atear, from you. The knowledge of this should perhaps deter me fromrelating what I am convinced will so much affect you." Here MrsFitzpatrick stopt, till, at the repeated entreaties of Sophia, shethus proceeded:
"Though you must have heard much of my marriage; yet, as matters mayprobably have been misrepresented, I will set out from the verycommencement of my unfortunate acquaintance with my present husband;which was at Bath, soon after you left my aunt, and returned home toyour father.
"Among the gay young fellows who were at this season at Bath, MrFitzpatrick was one. He was handsome, _degage,_ extremely gallant, andin his dress exceeded most others. In short, my dear, if you wasunluckily to see him now, I could describe him no better than bytelling you he was the very reverse of everything which he is: for hehath rusticated himself so long, that he is become an absolute wildIrishman. But to proceed in my story: the qualifications which he thenpossessed so well recommended him, that, though the people of qualityat that time lived separate from the rest of the company, and excludedthem from all their parties, Mr Fitzpatrick found means to gainadmittance. It was perhaps no easy matter to avoid him; for herequired very little or no invitation; and as, being handsome andgenteel, he found it no very difficult matter to ingratiate himselfwith the ladies, so, he having frequently drawn his sword, the men didnot care publickly to affront him. Had it not been for some suchreason, I believe he would have been soon expelled by his own sex; forsurely he had no strict title to be preferred to the English gentry;nor did they seem inclined to show him any extraordinary favour. Theyall abused him behind his back, which might probably proceed fromenvy; for by the women he was well received, and very particularlydistinguished by them.
"My aunt, though no person of quality herself, as she had always livedabout the court, was enrolled in that party; for, by whatever meansyou get into the polite circle, when you are once there, it issufficient merit for you that you are there. This observation, youngas you was, you could scarce avoid making from my aunt, who was free,or reserved, with all people, just as they had more or less of thismerit.
"And this merit, I believe, it was, which principally recommended MrFitzpatrick to her favour. In which he so well succeeded, that he wasalways one of her private parties. Nor was he backward in returningsuch distinction; for he soon grew so very particular in his behaviourto her, that the scandal club first began to take notice of it, andthe better-disposed persons made a match between them. For my ownpart, I confess, I made no doubt but that his designs were strictlyhonourable, as the phrase is; that is, to rob a lady of her fortune byway of marriage. My aunt was, I conceived, neither young enough norhandsome enough to attract much wicked inclination; but she hadmatrimonial charms in great abundance.
"I was the more confirmed in this opinion from the extraordinaryrespect which he showed to myself from the first moment of ouracquaintance. This I understood as an attempt to lessen, if possible,that disinclination which my interest might be supposed to give metowards the match; and I know not but in some measure it had thateffect; for, as I was well contented with my own fortune, and of allpeople the least a slave to interested views, so I could not beviolently the enemy of a man with whose behaviour to me I was greatlypleased; and the more so, as I was the only object of such respect;for he behaved at the same time to many women of quality without anyrespect at all.
"Agreeable as this was to me, he soon changed it into another kind ofbehaviour, which was perhaps more so. He now put on much softness andtenderness, and languished and sighed abundantly. At times, indeed,whether from art or nature I will not determine, he gave his usualloose to gaiety and mirth; but this was always in general company, andwith other women; for even in a country-dance, when he was not mypartner, he became grave, and put on the softest look imaginable themoment he approached me. Indeed he was in all things so veryparticular towards me, that I must have been blind not to havediscovered it. And, and, and----" "And you was more pleased still, mydear Harriet," cries Sophia; "you need not be ashamed," added she,sighing; "for sure there are irresistible charms in tenderness, whichtoo many men are able to affect." "True," answered her cousin; "men,who in all other instances want common sense, are very Machiavels inthe art of loving. I wish I did not know an instance.--Well, scandalnow began to be as busy with me as it had before been with my aunt;and some good ladies did not scruple to affirm that Mr Fitzpatrick hadan intrigue with us both.
"But, what may seem astonishing, my aunt never saw, nor in the leastseemed to suspect, that which was visible enough, I believe, from bothour behaviours. One would indeed think that love quite puts out theeyes of an old woman. In fact, they so greedily swallow the addresseswhich are made to them, that, like an outrageous glutton, they are notat leisure to observe what passes amongst others at the same table.This I have observed in more cases than my own; and this was sostrongly verified by my aunt, that, though she often found us togetherat her return from the pump, the least canting word of his, pretendingimpatience at her absence, effectually smothered all suspicion. Oneartifice succeeded with her to admiration. This was his treating melike a little child, and never calling me by any other name in herpresence but that of pretty miss. This indeed did him some disservicewith your humble servant; but I soon saw through it, especially as inher absence he behaved to me, as I have said, in a different manner.However, if I was not greatly disobliged by a conduct of which I haddiscovered the design, I smarted very severely for it; for my auntreally conceived me to be what her lover (as she thought him) calledme, and treated me in all respects as a perfect infant. To say thetruth, I wonder she had not insisted on my again wearingleading-strings.
"At last, my lover (for so he was) thought proper, in a most solemnmanner, to disclose a secret which I had known long before. He nowplaced all the love which he had pretended to my aunt to my account.He lamented, in very pathetic terms, the encouragement she had givenhim, and made a high merit of the tedious hours in which he hadundergone her conversation.--What shall I tell you, my dearSophia?--Then I will confess the truth. I was pleased with my man. Iwas pleased with my conquest. To rival my aunt delighted me; to rivalso many other women charmed me. In short, I am afraid I did not behaveas I should do, even upon the very first declaration--I wish I did notalmost give him positive encouragement before we parted.
"The Bath now talked loudly--I might almost say, roared against me.Several young women affected t
o shun my acquaintance, not so much,perhaps, from any real suspicion, as from a desire of banishing mefrom a company in which I too much engrossed their favourite man. Andhere I cannot omit expressing my gratitude to the kindness intended meby Mr Nash, who took me one day aside, and gave me advice, which if Ihad followed, I had been a happy woman. `Child,' says he, `I am sorryto see the familiarity which subsists between you and a fellow who isaltogether unworthy of you, and I am afraid will prove your ruin. Asfor your old stinking aunt, if it was to be no injury to you and mypretty Sophy Western (I assure you I repeat his words), I should beheartily glad that the fellow was in possession of all that belongs toher. I never advise old women: for, if they take it into their headsto go to the devil, it is no more possible than worth while to keepthem from him. Innocence and youth and beauty are worthy a betterfate, and I would save them from his clutches. Let me advise youtherefore, dear child, never suffer this fellow to be particular withyou again.' Many more things he said to me, which I have nowforgotten, and indeed I attended very little to them at the time; forinclination contradicted all he said; and, besides, I could not bepersuaded that women of quality would condescend to familiarity withsuch a person as he described.
"But I am afraid, my dear, I shall tire you with a detail of so manyminute circumstances. To be concise, therefore, imagine me married;imagine me with my husband, at the feet of my aunt; and then imaginethe maddest woman in Bedlam, in a raving fit, and your imaginationwill suggest to you no more than what really happened.
"The very next day my aunt left the place, partly to avoid seeing MrFitzpatrick or myself, and as much perhaps to avoid seeing any oneelse; for, though I am told she hath since denied everything stoutly,I believe she was then a little confounded at her disappointment.Since that time, I have written to her many letters, but never couldobtain an answer, which I must own sits somewhat the heavier, as sheherself was, though undesignedly, the occasion of all my sufferings:for, had it not been under the colour of paying his addresses to her,Mr Fitzpatrick would never have found sufficient opportunities to haveengaged my heart, which, in other circumstances, I still flattermyself would not have been an easy conquest to such a person. Indeed,I believe I should not have erred so grossly in my choice if I hadrelied on my own judgment; but I trusted totally to the opinion ofothers, and very foolishly took the merit of a man for granted whom Isaw so universally well received by the women. What is the reason, mydear, that we, who have understandings equal to the wisest andgreatest of the other sex, so often make choice of the silliestfellows for companions and favourites? It raises my indignation to thehighest pitch to reflect on the numbers of women of sense who havebeen undone by fools." Here she paused a moment; but, Sophia making noanswer, she proceeded as in the next chapter.