Volume IV Part 29 (1/2)

Mother. I have a very serious matter to talk with you upon, Nancy, when you are disposed to attend to matters within ourselves, and not let matters without ourselves wholly engross you.

A good selve-ish speech!--But I thought that friends.h.i.+p, grat.i.tude, and humanity, were matters that ought to be deemed of the most intimate concern to us. But not to dwell upon words.

Daughter. I am now disposed to attend to every thing my mamma is disposed to say to me.

M. Why then, child--why then, my dear--[and the good lady's face looked so plump, so smooth, and so s.h.i.+ning!]--I see you are all attention, Nancy!--But don't be surprised!--don't be uneasy!--But I have--I have-- Where is it?--[and yet it lay next her heart, never another near it--so no difficulty to have found it]--I have a letter, my dear!--[And out from her bosom it came: but she still held it in her hand]--I have a letter, child.--It is--it is--it is from--from a gentleman, I a.s.sure you!-- [lifting up her head, and smiling.]

There is no delight to a daughter, thought I, in such surprises as seem to be collecting. I will deprive my mother of the satisfaction of making a gradual discovery.

D. From Mr. Antony Harlowe, I suppose, Madam?

M. [Lips drawn closer: eye raised] Why, my dear!--I cannot but own-- But how, I wonder, could you think of Mr. Anthony Harlowe?

D. How, Madam, could I think of any body else?

M. How could you think of any body else?--[angry, and drawing back her face]. But do you know the subject, Nancy?

D. You have told it, Madam, by your manner of breaking it to me. But, indeed, I question not that he had two motives in his visits--both equally agreeable to me; for all that family love me dearly.

M. No love lost, if so, between you and them. But this [rising] is what I get--so like your papa!--I never could open my heart to him!

D. Dear Madam, excuse me. Be so good as to open your heart to me.-- I don't love the Harlowes--but pray excuse me.

M. You have put me quite out with your forward temper! [angrily sitting down again.]

D. I will be all patience and attention. May I be allowed to read his letter?

M. I wanted to advise with you upon it.--But you are such a strange creature!--you are always for answering one before one speaks!

D. You'll be so good as to forgive me, Madam.--But I thought every body (he among the rest) knew that you had always declared against a second marriage.

M. And so I have. But then it was in the mind I was in. Things may offer----

I stared.

M. Nay, don't be surprised!--I don't intend--I don't intend--

D. Not, perhaps, in the mind you are in, Madam.

M. Pert creature! [rising again]----We shall quarrel, I see!--There's no----

D. Once more, dear Madam, I beg your excuse. I will attend in silence.

--Pray, Madam, sit down again--pray do [she sat down.]--May I see the letter?

No; there are some things in it you won't like.--Your temper is known, I find, to be unhappy. But nothing bad against you; intimations, on the contrary, that you shall be the better for him, if you oblige him.

Not a living soul but the Harlowes, I said, thought me ill-tempered: and I was contented that they should, who could do as they had done by the most universally acknowledged sweetness in the world.

Here we broke out a little; but at last she read me some of the pa.s.sages in the letter. But not the most mightily ridiculous: yet I could hardly keep my countenance neither, especially when she came to that pa.s.sage which mentions his sound health; and at which she stopped; she best knew why--But soon resuming: