The Journey to London, or the History of Selby-Family.

by Anonymous

Digital editor’s note

This text has been OCRed and hand-corrected from the digital surrogate in Penn Libraries’ Digital Collection of British and American Fiction. The original book is held by the Kislak Center for Special Collections (Penn Libraries, University of Pennsylvania).

THE

JOURNEY TO LONDON.

VOL. I.

THE

JOURNEY TO LONDON:

OR, THE

HISTORY

OF THE

SELBY-FAMILY.

VOL. I.

LONDON:

Printed for F. and J. NOBLE, at their respective
Circulating LIbraries, near Middle Row, Holburn
and Saint Martin's Court, near Leicester Square.
MDCCLXXIV.

THE JOURNEY TO LONDON.

“Oh! mama! I have some news to tell you: we are going to have some charming neighnours: Sir Thomas Lumley’s family is coming down to live at the great house.”

In this lively manner Miss Selby, one day, addressed her mother, running into the garden parlour, in which she sat at work.

[2] “At the great house!” replied Mrs. Selby: that cannot be, surely; for it is quite out of repair, and has not had anything done to it since Sir Charles died.”

“I know nothing about that,” answered Miss Selby, “but indeed it is as I tell you, as papa – here he comes.”

“What do you want to say to me, my dear?” Said Mr. Selby, as he entered the room.

“Why, Molly tells me that Sir Thomas Lumley’s family are coming down to live here : and I do not believe it, because the old house is so much out of repair, you know.”

[3] “Perhaps they are out of repair themselves,” replied Mr. Selby – “I have always heard Sir Thomas was an extravagant man; and so, I suppose he has no money left to lay out upon his house. I have been told in deed, by the by, that he comes down here to retrench, and to try to save something for his family. His children must be grown up now: he was married, I remember, before I was, and I believe he has four to our three.”

“Well! I am sure I shall be quite glad to have some young ladies of my own age to be acquainted with,” said Miss Selby: we have lived long enough, I think, by ourselves, papa.”

[4] “I don’t know that,” replied he: “the longer we live by ourselves, the better we shall be: there is very little good to be got by mixing with other people.”

“That is not clear to me,” said Miss Selby: “I should like to see and know a little more of the world.”

“Polly, Polly, “ replied he, hastily, “you would not get much by that the less you know of the world, child, the better: it is by no means a place for the improvement of young people: you live here quite out of the way of temptation, and therefore may be both good and happy, if you will: but were you to go into the world, you would find it very difficult to preserve that integrity of [5] heart, and decency of manners, which can only make you happy here and hereafter. Do not therefore, child, wish for anything, farther than you polsess at present, but be thankful for the undisturbed situation in which you are placed, and learn contentment.”

With these words, the quiet, well disposed Mr. Selby left the room.

“Law!” said miss Selby, going to the glass, and adjusting her tucker – “Papa talks like a Parson. – But I wonder, mama, whether Sir Thomas has daughters or sons. – If there are any young ladies, we shall visit them as soon as they come down, I hope: do, pray, mama, let us visit them, and then I shall hear all about [6] London: to be sure, as thy have lived there so long, they can tell me about the fashions, and everything.”

Mrs. Selby smiled at her daughter’s eagerness: she felt no small satisfaction herself at the very idea of visiting a Baronet’s Lady. Mr. Selby had, it is true, an independent fortune; yet it was not a large one: he, therefore, though of a benevolent, hospitable disposition, was willing to live in a retired manner, that he might be able to save something for his daughters, as his real estate would descend to his son: he chose also to make some provision for his wife, though he had married her without any money. She was the daughter of a merchant, settled in a country town, where he had been upon some business; and he happened to take a [7] fancy to her, as she was, at that time, in the eyes of most people, a very pretty woman. She was, indeed, at the commencement of this narrative, not in the least disagreeable in her person. Her retired, tranquil life, from the time of her marriage, having greatly contributed to the preservation of her, health, and the uniform flow of her spirits, in consequence of which she had a blooming complexion, and a brilliancy to a pair of as beautiful eyes as were ever placed in a human head. With these personal advantages, she was certainly qualified to make no bad figure at the Baronet’s house; and she was flattered enough by them to believe, that she should not be eclipsed by, her own daughters, who were generally called very fine girls. They were, indeed, tall and strait; they had [8] animated complexions, good teeth and hair. Molly, the eldest, had the most spirit in her eyes; Fanny was remarkable for the delicacy of her form, and the whiteness of her hands and arms. Their brother was also well made, and had, in his agreeable, manly countenance, sensibility strongly expressed. His father, willing to give him every opportunity of improving the talents nature had bestowed on him, had sent him to Cambridge, that he might be qualified, by an university education, for ecclesiastical preferment, should he happen to have a call to the church. With regard to his daughters, he did not want them to possess any other qualifications than those which might tend to make them good wives and good mothers, to the men who should chuse to pass their lives with them.

[9] He put into their hands, at a very early age. Some of the best English authors, while their mother, who had no great relish for books, taught them, example, to roll their eyes, and set their caps, at all the men who came in their way; frequently telling them, that women, with tolerable persons, might always make their fortunes, if they would mind what they were about adding, that she had herself married with nothing; and that though she might have perhaps done better, there were women, who had married worse.

Miss Selby having been long weary of a retired life, was secretly as much rejoiced at the intelligence communicated to her by her daughter, as she appeared to be, though she had every rational amusement at her command. The [10] house was very pleasantly situated; it had been built by Mr. Selby’s father: it was quite a convenient building; it was neatly furnished, and it wanted nothing to render it every way eligible. There was also a good deal of land round it. It stood, indeed, in the middle of a garden, which was both pleasant and profitable, being extremely well laid out, and containing all sorts of vegetables for the use, and a considerable number of flowers and shrubs, for the entertainment of the family. Mr. Selby too employed, employed himself in the farming-way; kept several horses of course, and those horses occasionally rolled his wife and daughters about the country, when they were disposed to make little excursions, a post coach, which he built on purpose to oblige Mrs. Selby; as she had more than once, hinted she might, have [11] married to a carriage, had she not stood in her own light.

Mr. Selby had also a good collection of books: he was not a man of the world, but he was a man of sense, and had received the best school learning the country could afford. In the younger part of his life he had been a great lover of reading, and had a taste for musick, sufficient to enable him to a muse himself with playing a little upon the organ and violin, both, which instruments he retained in his house: though after his children grew up, he seldom medled with, them, devoting his whole time and attention to the improvement of his small fortune, for the Sake of his family. However, as his son and younger daughter had often importuned him to instruct them in a science which [12] promised to afford them much pleasure, having both a particular passion for music, and melodious voices, he now and then gave them a lesson upon the organ; but he cautioned them, at the same time, not to apply closely to music, lest they might be prevented by it from paying their attention to things of more consequence. Fanny, notwithstanding her father’s precaution, would sometimes sing, though rudely, while her brother accompanied her upon the organ; and they sometimes joined in a duet. The two girls also drew well enough to save the expenses of patterns for Working aprons, rushes, &c. &c. these amusements, with visits to the few neighbours they had, kept them from growing melancholy in their retirernent. Their neighbours were most of them chearful, good-natured, people, [13] and such people, though not very highly polished, are a thousand times more valuable than those who, with the most refined accomplishments, have had their minds corrupted by an imitation of the manners of the fashionable world.

With the young and lively part of their neighbours, the Miss Selbys sometimes schemed a dance, and sometimes planned other amusements, in order to fill up their vacant hours in a winter evening, innocently. Cards were absolutely banished from their little social meetings. Cards, indeed, were particularly discouraged by Mr. Selby himself: he never played, neither at home or abroad; and as he had many reasons to disapprove of their being introduced into his family, he always in inveighed warmly against them. He never [14] would let his children, play – Cards promote a habit of sitting too long, which is very pernicious, and prejudicial to health and spirits, and occasion numberless disorders. They also give too great a spur to the passions, and excite many of the most destructive kind, especially avarice. There is sufficient reason to believe that the love of play opens the door to many low arts, and shabby proceedings disgraceful, to man, and detrimental to society.

In consequence of these capital objections to card playing, Mr. Selby took every possible method to prevent his children from contracting an inclination for it; and was, indeed, extremely solicitous to cure them of every the llight cst folly to which they were naturally addicted, or which they had caught by [15] associating with their acquaintance. However, though the young Selbys were thus discreetly brought up, though they were never checked by any unreasonable restraints, and though they shared in all the pleasures of the country, there were so many things which they had not seen, which they had heard of, and of which they warrted to hear more, that they were delighted at the coming down of a family from London; not in the least doubting but that they could give them all the wished for, information.

Mrs. Selby was pleased, because she, fancied she should make herself of more consequence, by her connexions with, people of fashion, and increasing her acquaintance with persons in high life. By Such connections she expected to [16] triumph over her rustic neighbours, with her knowledge concerning the way of living among, the great in London. Agreeably to this mode of thinking, she determined, before the Baronet and his family had been in the country long enough to know whether they had any neighbours or not, to pay them a visity with the thorough approbation of her daughters, who earnestly pressed her indeed, to go and see them. They were quite eager to see Ladies just arrived from London; and, accordingly, began to make preparations for their visit the preceding evening. That they might appear in the best manner possible, their hair had been kept in paper all the day; they were, in short, so busied in making up their rushes and tippets, that they had not a single moment to spare. Their father called upon them, [17] but they were not ready. In the evening, therefore, instead of walking in the grounds, or fields, as they used to do –, (in the middle of July–) on finding none of them visible, he went upstairs to his wife’s apartment. There he saw them all together consulting about caps and ribbons, gowns and petticoats.

On his desiring to know why they shut themselves up in such fine weather, Mrs. Selby replied, “We are very busy in getting things ready to go to Sir Thomas Lumley’s; and I hope, my dear, that you will be of our party.”

“Who I!” answered he; “Why should I go to Sir Thomas Lumley’s?”

[18] “Why not as well as we?”

“Nay, if you come to that, I can give no reason for your going: nor do I believe you can give any reason for it yourself.”

“Yes, indeed, but I can,” replied she, rather warmly: “Sir Thomas and his family are our neighbours; and all people visit their neighbours. Be they are so genteel an acquaintance, and so proper to give our girls a notion of high life, and to teach them how to behave themselves if ever such a life should be their lot; (and who knows what may happen) that I think they will have a charm opportunity to improve them.”

[19] “Umph!” cried Mr. Selby; then, after a short pause, added – “In what very different lights we see things now, my dear? – But to answer you circumstantially. – In the first place, I do not see the least necessity there is for our visiting Sir Thomas Lumley as a neighbour, as his rank and manner of life are So opposite to mine, that we cannot be at all Suitable to each other, probably, not agreeable. A neighbour, according to my idea of that character, is a person who not only lives near me, but is of a so friendly disposition a person with whom I may be upon an intimate footing. Now as Sir Thomas cannot possibly be such a neighbour to me, I cannot think myself obliged to visit him: nor do I imagine that any of my family can with propriety [20] visit his. With regard to the genteelness of their acquaintance, I have particular objections to it. – The abuse of the word genteel, which has rufined half the families in England. People in this refined age, instead of valuing themselves for the unaffected politeness of their behaviour, substitute a ceremonious mode of speaking and acting, without any meaning in it. Thirdly and lastly, my dear, with respect to my daughters, I really hope, that they will neither wish, nor make any attempts to be raised above the situation in which they were born and bred. I have educated them suitably to the little fortune I shall be able to give them; and I hope they will, when married to some plain honest men, know how to set a proper, value on the blessings of domestic [21] life: and as they cannot rationally expect to be placed in a more exalted station, they cannot want to learn how to conduct themselves in such a one: high notions are the worst no which can be infused into the heads of young people, especially gitls: a too great longing after what is called High-life most commonly reduces the longers to the lowest life. I desire, therefore, that my children may not be acquainted with anything at all of the matter: and so, Polly and Fanny, lay aside your work, and come and take a walk this fine evening in the garden.”

With these words he was going to take each of his daughters by the hand; when Mrs. Selby, interposing, with a head bridled up like that of an incensed [22] Turkey-cock, and a face inflamed with anger, cried, “Pray, Mr. Selby, let the girls alone: they may stay and finish what they are about; for if you do not like to go to Sir Thomas Lumley’s, there is no reason that I and my daughters should be rude to her Ladyship: if you choose to expose yourself, and show your strange breeding, I shall let them see that I have I had a very different education.”

“I believe, indeed,” replied Selby, coolly, “that you will expose yourself exceedingly, by acting entirely out of character; but if you will be a fool, it is not, I am persuaded, in my power to hinder you. However, there is no occasion for you to take the girls to spoil them; they may stay, and keep me company at home.”

[23] “No, truly,” said Mrs. Selby, stung to the quick at the appellation he had pointed at her; “I am to be reckoned a fool. Sir, as you have thought proper to call me, I shall choose to have somebody to keep me in countenance; and will, therefore, have the girls go with me.”

“Ay,” cried he, weary of continuing, especially as he saw her passion rising to a pretty considerable height, of the effects of which he had very frequently been fensible since their marriage; “You will have your own way, I see, whatever mischief comes of it: I have done my part, by telling you in what manner you are wrong; if you are determined not to listen to me, you must take the consequences.”

[24] With these words, delivered with an uncommon earnestiness, he went downstairs, leaving Mrs. Selby in no very good humour, though she had carried her point. She muttered a great many severe things against her husband, before she could compose her mind enough to pursue the employment of choosing her clothes, which Mr. Selby interrupted.

As to the miss Selbys, they loved their father exceedingly, as he had always been kind and indulgent to them; but, like too many other young people, they also wished to see life, from a mere longing after something new: they were not only desirous of a change, they ardently wished to fly from the tranquil scenes in which they had lived from their earliest days, and to figure in the [25] great world. – Cheerfully, therefore, they did what their mother ordered them to do; and performed their appointed tasks with an avidity which would have done them great honour, had they been employed in a more laudable manner.

When they came down to slipper, Mr. Selby, who was, in the strictest sense of the words, a mild tempered man, intended to have rallied them upon their having mis-spent so fine an evening; but he had been too long accustomed to Mrs. Selby’s manner of behaving, not to perceive that she would be affronted by any kind of pleasantry upon the subject in question: he, therefore, agreeably to Matt. Prior’s prudent advice, resolved to – “eat his pudding, and hold his tongue.”

[26] The next day – the day of action – was a long consultation held by The female part of the family: the debate was, whether it would be genteeler to send any notice of their intended visitor, or to make it abruptly without giving any previous intelligence to the Lumleys at all.

After much proing and conning, they all came to an agreement, that it was much better to send compliments, as they might, possibly, if taken unprepared, either be affronted, or denied. Wishing very much to get a sight of this genteel family, they could not bear the thoughts of being turned from the door: the lad, therefore, who rode the horse when they went anywhere in the post coach, and who, occasionally, whetted the knives, cleaned the shoes, or worked [27] in the garden, for they did not keep that idle, insolent animal a footman, was dispatched with a card, containing these lines:

“Mrs. Selby’s and the Miss Selby’s compliments to Lady Lumley and the young Ladies; if they are not engaged, will do themselves the pleasure of waiting upon them this afternoon.”

Miss Selby, who was the secretary upon this occasion, waited with the utmost impatience – her mother and sister were equally impatient – for an answer. They waited a considerable time before any answer came.

At last the boy appeared.

[28] Before he could deliver his message, Mrs. Selby began to chide him very loudly for staying so long.

The eldest young Lady, quite unable to restrain her impatience; cried, “Dear mama, let us have the message first. Come, give me the card,” continued she, turning to the boy, and stretching out her hand eagerly for it.

“I have no card,” replied he.

“How! no card?” replied Mrs. Selby; “what? have you lost it then? I wonder how you dare to be so careless.”

“Why, they gave none, “ said the boy, dcratching his head: “and I could not lose what I had not.”

[29] “Don’t be saucy, sirrah,” said the Lady.

“Nay, dear Mama,” cried miss Selby, interrupting her, “let us hear what he has to say.”

“It will soon be said,” answered the boy, provoked at being so severely chid when he was not in fault; “Madam said she was engaged; that’s all.”

“What! and sent no compliments?” replied Mrs. Selby.

“I heard of none “ answered he; turning to go away, lest he should be snubbed again.

“Stay, Dick,” Said Miss Selby: “did not they say they should be glad to see us?”

[30] “No,” replied he; “they said nothing about you, Miss.”

“Wesl! ‘tis vastly odd,” cried she.

“Oh! – there is some new fashion, perhaps,” said Mrs. Selby; “but living always shut up in this obscure village, how should I know anything of the matter? They will, I doubt not, send tomorrow: most likely there was a message; but this blundering boy cannot remember it, I suppose, and so he stands it out that here was none. ’Tis a sad thing to have always shch awkward people about me: but your father never would take a clever servant in his life: he is afraid, I believe, that they should know more than himself.”

[31] Mr. Selby, during the above dialogue, was looking over his men at work upon his land. When he came in to dinner, not seeing his wife and daughters dressed in any way as if they were going abroad,, he concluded they had,, on second thoughts, prudently laid their scheme aside. After having sat some time without hearing any mention of the intended visit, said, good- naturedly, to his wife – “So, my dear, you do not purpose going to Sir Thomas’s, I see.”

“Yes indeed, I do,” replied she, rather seriously; then looking down, as is thoroughly mortified at her disappointment, she added – “but they are engaged to-day.”

[32] “Oh! that’s well – very well,” cried he: “they mean, by that hint,Molly, that they do not desire company.”

“How you talk, Mr. Selby!” replied she; “why, people may be engaged one day, and not another. You know mighty little of visiting indeed.”

“And desire to know less,” said he, “of such formal visiting as you mean. I like to see my neighbours in a friendly way, but I never would expose myself to the refusal of my company by anybody.”

“Is my company refused?” cried she, in a passion – She was luckily, however, hindered from going on, by the arrival [33] of a hair-dresser, whom she had sent for from the next town. She did not indeed go to Sir Thomas’s that day; but as she fully expected to make her visit the next day, and as he had come above five miles, she determined not to let the opportunity slip of making herself look as handsome as possible, whether she went out or staid at home.

After having spoken to the friseur, and put her youngest daughter under his hands, she hurried down her dinner as fast as she could, that she might not make him wait. By this proceeding of hers, Mr. Selby escaped another altercation- scene. He was by no means pleased to see his wife and daughters make what he called a very ridiculous appearance; an appearance which they had never before attempted; yet he was [34] greatly diverted by the peevish behaviour and mortified looks of them all, on the three successive days, on their receiving no message from Lady Lumlay. That behaviour, and those looks, would have drawn the keenest raillery from him, had he not been afraid of having it returned by Mrs. Selby in a manner not the most agreeable: he consented himself therefore with the indulgence of a few smiles at their expense, and even ventured So far as to give a hint now and then to his daughters; that they had taken no small trouble for nothing, and that they would never set their feet in Sir Thomas Lumley’s house. It was indeed, at the Same time, highly debated at the Baronet’s, whether they should ever be admitted, or not.

[35] When Mrs. Selby’s card was brought to Lady Lumley, she started, and cried, “A card! from whom, John? – Let me see it,” added she, snatching it from him, not doubting but that it contained an invitation to some rout, or, at leash, to a private party; but as soon as she saw that there was nothing more intended than a formal visit to herself and her daughters, and from people whom no body knew, she called John back, and said, “Who are these Selbys? I never heard of them before.”

“Why, ‘Squire Selby, my Lady,” answered John, “is a kind of a gentle as they call him, who lives about half a mile off, and has a pretty little kind of an estate here.”

[36] Poh! – a farmer’s wife and daughters,” replied my Lady – “Here, take away the card – I am engaged.”

In about a week afterwards, when Sir Thomas, not knowing how to amuse himself, having no relish for the plealures of the country, nor indeed, for any other pleasures to be met with in retirement. Such as reading, music, drawing, or the chit-chat of his family, was looking through the window, and counting the trees which grew before the house, to fill up the vacant half hours before dinner, the Selby-card attracted his attention. It had been carelessly left in the room by John, and one of the maids, believing it contained something of importance because she [37] could make nothing of it, had stuck it up in a window, to prevent its being lost.

Taking the card down, Sir Thomas, read it.

When my Lady appeared, he said to her, “Who are these Selbys? I do not remember to have seen them here.”

“No – and you will see them here,” replied she – “I am not reduced quite so low as to receive visits from farmers wives and daughters.”

“It matters not much in the country,” said Sir Thomas; they may divert us; anything for variety.”

“I am not of that opinion, Sir Thomas: – I do not chuse to mix with low people anywhere.”

[38] “But we cannot tell whether they are low or not, till we have seen them.”

“Farmers wives and daughters, as I told you before, are not suitable acquaintance for me. Sir Thomas.”

“Is Selby a farmer, then?”

“How should I know what he is? John told me so. I never heard of the people in my life before. I cannot imagine how they could have the assurance to send to me.”

“They thought it civil, I suppose, child, to make you a visit upon your coming to settle in the country.”

[39] “Settle, indeed! What an idea it gives one,” said Lady Lumley, with a sigh of discontent: “but whenever I am obliged to exist here, for I cannot call it living, I am sure such people can never be fit company for me.”

“I think, now,” answered Sir Thomas, “they might amuse a little: they might serve to change the scene, at least.”

“Well, Sir Thomas, if you like such low bred creatures, you may amuse with them: for my part, I have never been used to keep such company: I really should not know how to behave to them.”

“Nay, child, I do not want to have anything to shy to them: I only [40] thought they might divert us sometimes: I am sure I have heard you say that there is nothing more agree to you than to laugh at people: and I imagine the Selbys would furnish matter enough for ridicule.”

“I dare lay they would,” cried Miss Lumley: “I wish my Lady would consent to receive them, once at least, that we might see what sort of figures they are.”

“I should be vastly glad to see them, said miss Harriot; “as there are no other families near us, they will be better than no body.”

“I don’t think so,” replied her Ladyship; I think bad company much worse than none at all.”

[41] “But we do not know whether they they will be bad company or not, till we try;” said Sir Thomas. “At the worst, I suppose, they can play at cards; every little shopkeeper’s wife now has her private party and pool at Quadrille; and if we do not strike out some variety here, I cannot see what we are to do with ourselves : for my own part, I assure you, I feel my time hang very heavy upon my hands already.”

“And so you want to employ it in conversing with the low-bred wives and daughters of your clownish neighbors, I have never been used to have any neighbours : I hate neighbours.”

[42] “It may be so,” replied the Baronet; “and you may hate their as much as you please, though you let them in to divert you. We are very fond of people whom we laugh at.”

Still Lady Lumley’s pride kept her from yielding to the inclinations of Sir Thomas, and her daughters, with whom she sat down to a joyless parti quarre. After having pouted and. fretted away the dullest of all dull evenings, at the card-table – though the weather was so very inviting, either for riding or walking, that few people, neither blind nor lame, could have resisted the desire of enjoying it abroad – she consented to let the creatures come: she could not, however, be prevailed on to suffer a card to be written to inform them of the honourhe [43] she intended them. She only sent the Servant with a verbal message, next day, delivered in a manner extremely concise. “Lady Lumley will be at home,” – unaccompanied with any apology, or compliment of any kind.

This strange mode of proceeding, as it appeared to the Selbys, somewhat staggered them, at first: the message was by no means explicit: there was no mention made of the young people on either side. The Selby-girls were disconcerted: yet, though they had been lulled into an almost perfect indifference about her ladyship’s acquaintance, in consequence of her delay, this summons roused them, and made them again eager to go. They were greatly at a loss, indeed, about the propriety of going, but they wished to attend their mother.

[44] Fanny, who was far the least anxious of the two sisters, was willing to give up the visit.

Molly, who most resembled Mrs. Selby in her person and manners, said that she thought, as the Miss Lumleys were not mentioned, they might conclude themselves expected.

This speech was decisive in favour of their going to the Baronet’s. They then began to prepare to dress as fast as possible.

Mr. Selby, who had, for some days, entertained hopes of this foolish affair’s being dropped, and who, pluming himself upon his penetration, had strongly flattered himself that it never would have been brought about, expressed as much [45] much concern, as Mrs. Selby did pleasure, at the renewal of it. He declared aloud, that, was he in their place, he would not, on any account, go to the Baronet’s house, after having had Ssufficient reason to believe that their company would not be acceptable; adding, that, by keeping up their consequence upon this occasion, they would raise themselves higher in the esteem of all those people, with whom it was more honour to be acquainted, than with half the noblest families in the county.

This address of Mr. Selby to his wife and daughters, only made their features wear the appearance of contempt, while they looked significantly at each other by way of triumphing over him.

[46] They were all ready, in all their finery, a full hour before Mrs. Selby thought it genteel to let out, as it was but a very short drive to Sir Thomas’s. The coach horses and postilions had been thoroughly rubbed and scrubbed, that they might make the best poshble appearance. Mrs. Selby and her daughters examined themselves fifty times in the glass, to see if everything was right before they ventured to step into the carriage, which they kept waiting at the door a considerable time, notwithstand ing their extreme impatience to be gone.

At last Mrs. Selby gave the word, and led the way, followed by her daughters, out of her own house, and paraded, in the same manner, into that of the Baronet’s.

[47] They found Lady Lumley quite in a dishabille, half reclined upon a sopha, playing with a little Spanish dog. miss Lumley was shetching out a view of the garden from the window; and Miss Harriot was tuning her guitar.

They all rose on the entrance of their visiters, and then returned to their respective amusements.

This mode of behaviour rather embarrassed Mrs. Selby, who, though not a woman of the world, knew that if it was polite to pay so little attention to people, it was by no means friendly, nor even neighbourly; and that as she meant Lady Lumley and her daughters a civlity, by coming to visit them, they ought to have expressed some degree of satisfaction at their appearance. She, [48] therefore, reddened, and drew up a little; her girls followed her example. The Lumleys smiled at each other. Lady Lumley pushing her playfellow aside, condescended to ask Mrs. Selby if she had lived a great while in that part of the country – what families were near them – whether there was any assembly.

This was quite sufficient; she wished for nothing more to set her talking. In a very short time she related all she knew to the mother, while her daughters were doing the same to the daughters of Sir Thomas, though they had not the happy opportunity of repeating, every now and then, my Lady, and your Ladyship.

Mrs, Selby, pleased with having a titled person to speak to, and fearful [49] of giving her Ladyship offence, or of showing her ignorance, my ladied her so often, and so improperly, that the Miss Lumleys could not possibly forbear laughing aloud: a pleasure they would not by any means have denied themselves, had they not believed it would have deprived them also of another pleasure, of which they just began to be sensible. The miss Selbys not only gave them a minute and particular account of every family within twenty miles round the country, including their birth, parentage, and education, but of all the idle tittle tattle which had circulated round them time out of mind. These family details happened to prove so very entertaining to the Miss Lumleys, that they insensibly began to throw off their haughty looks, and haughty behaviour, and to draw [50] their chairs closer to their new acquaintance; to smile at their remarks, to encourage them to go on. Her Ladyship, at the same time, signified her approbation by nods and smiles, and repetitions of what had been told her, in away which leemed to convince her intelligencers, that she had no doubt concerning their veracity. In short, the spirit of scandal operated so powerfully, that it did more than anything else could have done. The desire to know on one side, and the need to talk on the other, had such a prodigious effect on both parties, that they soon became, outwardly, the best friends in the world.

Miss Lumley, by her mother’s order, rang for the coffee and tea. Sir Thomas then came in, and her Ladyship proposed a pool at Quadrille. Mrs. [51] Selby readily assented to it, being one of those obliging women, who never can refuse those whom they look upon as their superiors, in anything: for the very same reason, and for another still more weighty, she made no objection to playing at a shilling a fish: she was ashamed to own that she had not been used to play so high; more ashamed to confess that she could not afford it. She was soon plundered of above two guineas before she thought it possible for her to have lost an eighth part of that sum.

While four out of the seven in company were losing and winning their money with the greatest apparent cheerfulness, miss Harriot Lumley was entertaining the miss Selbys with an account of the diversions in London, on the [52] newest manner of dressing the hair and putting on caps, which was so totally different from every thing about them, that the poor girls, who, but an hour before, fancied themselves as elegant little princesses, were now entirely out of conceit with themselves, and their whole appearance. They had admired their figures at home, all the day; but they could not bear the sight of them in the glasses at Lumley place. Their caps, compared with those worn by the Miss Lumleys, and very becoming, appeared old-fashioned, and forlorn in their eyes: their stays, also, were ridiculously easy, and frightfully low both before and behind: their gowns were odioussy off their necks, with monstrous wide flounces, and little shallow ruffles – In short, they felt themselves extremely awkward, and. all the way home in the coach talked [53] of nothing but the elegant style in which the Miss Lumleys were dressed; wishing very much, at the same time, to imitate them, not being able to endure their own caps, &c. &c. &c.

As to Mrs. Selby, she was by no means like her daughters, with regard to their wishes to imitate their new acquaintance: she returned, indeed, with a strong aversion to everything she met with at home, and with a superlative contempt for her husband;; she believed – for the Lumleys, while they won her money, were particularly civil to her – that she made as good a figure as Lady Lumley herself did, if not a better one: and with respect to her dress and her house, she was determined to make them both as like the above-mentioned lady’s as possible. The Miss [54] Selbys, following so excellent an example, resolved upon a very close imitation of the Miss Lumleys, whom they till looked upon as the very quintessence of everything that was genteel and polite. At the same time, like true females, they allowed themselves to be far superior in their persons to their young neighbours. They imagined, therefore, that by making asSimilar appearance in dress, &c. &c. &c. they should infinitely surpass them. However, as they had not an allowance sufficient to enable them to purchase just what new ornaments they pleased, and as they could not, indeed – had they been so enabled, – procure them, the next town being several miles from them, and not a fashionable one – they could only, in so obscure a part of the country, give their things the true London air, by new- [55] making them. Resolved to appear as politely dressed as the Miss Lumleys, they prepared to imitate them with all possible expedition; and therefore could say but little that night. So much was their, attention taken up about an affair to them, at that moment, of the greatest importance.

Mr. Selby, who was very fond of his daughters, wanted to hear them chat and laugh as usual; and finding them loth to enter into conversation, told them that he was afraid they did not like their visit, though they had made a very long one.

Mrs. Selby answered for them, that nothing could have been more to their taste, and that she had never passed so agreeable an evening in her life. She, [56] secretly, however, lamented the lost of her money; yet, upon second thoughts, comforted herself with the knowledge she had gained. She pleased herself with thinking that she had lost her money in the genteelest company in the world, but laid not a word of her losing to Mr. Selby: she deemed it most prudent to keep them concealed, from him, and as he had no suspicions about them, he was happy from his ignorance. The wisest of Kings informs us, that “he who increaseth knowledge, increasteth sorrow;” and it is very certain, that if Mr. Selby had known what his wife then conceded from him, he would have been sorry for the communication.

Mr. Selby, not being able to get any intelligence that evening of what had [57] passed at Lumley place, contented himself With telling Mrs. Selby and his daughters, that they were all returned, very grave from their visit.

Mrs. Selby took him up immediately, and quite in a laconic manner.

“People of fashion,” said she, “are not always laughing, and making a noise, whatever you may think – For my part – I know better.”

Mr. Selby bore this reproof with wonderful patience; and then turning, to his eldest, daughter, said – “Why, child, you look like a, Friezeland hen: your hair is curled so much, that it is quite unnatural; Polly.” – Laying.his finger on one of her curls.

[58] “Law! papa!” replied she, “all people of fashion wear it so; and you will absolutely spoil it, if you touch it. Besides, I hate to be called Polly.”

This speech made him somewhat angry.

“I desire to hear no more about people of st fashion,” answered he – “Do you wants to be called out of your name?”

“I do not know, indeed,” said she, with an affected kind of pertness; “but I think Polly has a very vulgar found, and I wish my name was anything else.”

“Indeed!” replied the old gentleman, looking earnestly at her – “What [59] have you brought this whim from Sir Thomas’s? Though I suppose he calls his daughter Poll, or Polly, if she was christened Mary.”

“The Miss Lumleys have no such common names,” said miss Selby: “Sir Thomas, generally calls them Charlotte and Harriot; and such names are so genteel, so fashionable, that one should be glad to be called by them from morning tonight.”

“Really!” answered Mr. Selby: “why the girl’s head is quite turned – If this is going to see people of fashion, as you call them, I shall desire you to stay at home for the future.”

[60] Then turning to his wife, he added, “You know I was always very much against this visit, Mrs. Selby – (for I suppose you cannot bear to be called mother) and you see the bad effect has already had upon your daughter, by making her delpife everything that I say.” –

“If you will talk like a man of fashion, Mr. Selby,” replied she, “I dare say she I will not despise you: but you have a low way of expressing yourself, you know.”

“Z—–ds! Madam, “ exclaimed Mr. Selby (though he never swore but when he was uncommonly provoked) “Z—–s! Madam, I hate all people of fashion, especially people who talk such confounded nonsense. D—n it! do you [61] think I will not call the girl what I please? Let Sir Thomas call his what he likes, that’s nothing to me: I and my children are in a very different situation of life, and ever desire to remain so.”

“You may desire to remain so,” said his Lady, “because you have the most groveling notions; but my daughters and I” (drawing up her head with an air of the greatest consequence) “who have seen the world, have much better ideas of things, and intend to raise ourselves by imitating people who understand every part of good breeding to the very height. I beg therefore, Mr. Selby, that you would not put yourself in a passion, as all your swearing and fuming will signify nothing. As I now know what is [62] right, I shall follow it, whether you happen to like it or no.”

With these words, pronounced in a sharper key than she had ever spoke to him, she rose, and walked, in great state, to her own apartment, to which she was followed by her daughters, leaving the plain, worthy man, with eyes and hands lifted up with astonishment, at this sudden and disagreeable change in his family.

While the female part of the Selby-family were thus drawing improvement from their late interview with the Lumleys, the latter were talking over their departed visiters with, the most unbounded freedom.

[63] “Well!” Said Sir Thomas, turning to my Lady, before they were hardly out of hearing, “I gave you good advice, I think, when I persuaded you to receive these people. You have already got something out of Madam Selby.”

“Yes,” replied her Ladyship, counting her winnings, “I have piddled a little: two guineas and a half is pretty well to begin with; but I shall never endure the strange vulgarity of the creatures: the fulsome civility of the fat mother, and the awkward behaviour of the gaping girls – How they were dizened out! How strangely they affect to be well-dressed, at the same time that everything about them is out of taste! Never did I see such a total ignorance of dress indeed: but I [64] believe they would willingly make more modern figures, if they knew which way to go about it.”

“Poor girls!” replied Sir Thomas; “I pitied them for knowing no better: they are really handsome, and might, with a little instruction, be rendered quite agreeable.”

“Handsome?” cried my Lady, repeating that word, with a sarcastic laugh, while the Miss Lumleys sneered – “Well! I should never have thought of their being handsome, of all things – two such coarse, overgrown, blowzy creatures – they look as if they were just taken from their father’s farm, where they have fattened from their infancy, to this hour, with the pigs and poultry. – Heaven defend me from hearing [65] such vulgar wretches called handsome. No! there is nothing can make people, meanly born and bred, tolerable.”

In the conclusion of this speech, the two Miss Lumleys most cordially joined, and declared that they never saw two girls who knew less of life than the, Miss Selbys.

“How they stared!” said Miss Lumley – thought they would have devoured me with their eager eyes When Sir Thomas or my lady called me Miss, they started almost out of their chairs, as if they had never heard the word in their lives.”

“I suppose their father and mother never address them by that title,” [66] added Miss Harriot; “it would, indeed, be very odd if they should; for I am Sure their appearance would not gain it from anybody. I never saw two more ordinary girls – handsome, indeed!”

“Well, well,” cried Sir Thomas, “whether they are handsome or not, since that word seems to offend you so much, they will serve to be laughed at, and to lose their money.”

These observations appeared to make some amends for the preceding ones, and restored some composure to the rnind of the person to whom they were directed, who began to be hurt at the bare supposition that any women could possibly have the smallest pretensions to beauty, who had neither birth, fortune, [67] nor a knowledge of the polite world to recommend them. Certain philosophers, it is true, have been of opinion that no woman can be completely handsome, who does not exhibit in her countenance a beautiful mind; but Lady Lumley’s ideas were not so highly refined, though she was the daughter and the wife of a Baronet, with a fortune of fifteen thousand pounds, and had received the most liberal and polished education. Every woman of birth and fortune was, in her eyes, respestable; she only who was meanly born, and poor also, was contemptible in them. Sir Thomas, at that time, seemed to subscribe to his wife’s sentiments, for reasons best known to himself. He really entertained others exceedingly different, but his silence upon so important an occasion was very well taken at that critical juncture; [68] especially as he joined in the laugh with my Lady and her daughters, who proceeded, with the utmost satisfacion, to pull the poor Selbys to pieces.

The Selby-girls next morning rose very early, to make changes in their caps, petticoats, &c. &c. and so vigourously employed themselves about them, that when they were shmmoned to dinner, they had hardly any clothes to put on. Unluckily, they were stopped at the very beginning of their operations, by considering that they had no hoops, and that they could not expect to procure them in that part of the country. In this distressful condition they applied to their mother, and she, being exactly in the same predicament, with regard to what she now ranked among the northeast nrcessaries of life, told them, that she [69] would write to a person in London whom she knew, and desire her to send them down three of the most fashionable hoops which were then worn, and to be sure to send them large enough, or else people could not see they had any on, but might think they still suffered their petticoats to cling about them, like all the common wenches in the country.

This business being dispatched, they set about making their heads of a proper height, throwing off their handkerchiefs, lengthening the rustles of their gowns, hooking their aprons, and fixing large roles, of different coloured ribbons, upon their shoes, within an inch of their toes,

[70] Thus adorned, with erect heads they entered the dining parlour, and called each other, every now and then, Miss Molly and Miss Fanny.

Mr. Selby, who had been all thr morning looking over his grounds, sooner cast his eyes on his daughters than he perceived the sudden transformation in their appearance, and exclaimed, “ – Hey-day! What is the mattet now, girls? What? are you turned rope dancers; by sticking up your heads so high, and dressing your feet so low?”

Molly replied, with a toss of her head, – “La! Sir! how – you talk – We have only put our things on in the fashion.”

[71] “If that is the fashion,” answered he, “it is a very unbecoming one, I am sure. – Why, Polly’s hair is too far above her forehead by a quarter of a yard; and Fan’s cap looks like our old steeple yonder, only the weather-cock is inverted, and put under it, instead of being atop.”

By these jocular remarks he thought to laugh them out of a mode of dress which he, with all men of sense and judgement, could not but look upon as highly preposterous. The young Ladies, however, who were chagrined at his finding fault with what they believed to be both becoming and genteel, appeared mighty grave.

Miss Fanny said, – “I think, Sir, my sister Molly never looked so well [72] in her life : but indeed the fashion gives an air to eve thing.”

“I wish it would give a little understanding to some people,” replied he, fixing his eyes on Mrs. Selby, who had, in the dressing of her head, exactly followed her daughters.

“If you mean me, Mr. Seshy,” said she, “I must tell you, once for all, that I think I am of a sufficient age to know how to dress myself, without either instructions or observations: and I will, therefore, positively hear no more of them.”

This answer, delivered in a very peremptory tone, kept down all the good things which Mr. Selby might have had to say upon the subject; he only said [73] softly to himself, that she was, indeed, old enough to be he got nothing by his muttered remark, as his wife and his daughters unanimously, in consequence of it, sealed up their lips during the whole dinner.

Soon after the cloth was removed Mr. Selby left the room, muttering again – “Women will have their own way.”

In less than a fortnight Mr. Selby found, in spite of all his remonstrances, and petitions too (for he condescended to intreat his wife, when he remonstrated in vain) the economy of his family totally altered; and had the alterations been made instantaneously, instead of being brought gradually about, he would scarce have recognised either [74] his wife or his daughters, so entirely were they changed, not only in their looks, but in their language, and in their behaviour.

When Lady Lumley and the Miss Lumleys honoured Mrs. Selby and her daughters, by returning their visit, they actually dazzled their eyes with the brilliancy of their appearance. They were dressed in gold and silver muffins, and painted taffety sacques, with all the little elegant ornaments, which can only be purchased, only worn with propriety, by people of fashion.

The poor Selbys stared at them as if they were beings of a superior order: they were quite confounded by the glitter which they made with all their fine things. [75] Mrs. Selby was so charmed with lady lumiey’s diamond pin and bracelets, with Sir Thomas’s and Miss Lumley’s pictures ornamented with pearls, that she pined for a pair of the same sort; but she could not bear the thoughts of having Mr. Selby’s round, cheerful countenance, ever in a grin, in his still rounder wig, appear on her arm. This desire, however, was not, she knew; to be gratified till she got to London, where she intended to spend the winter. The vast encomiums on the metropolis, which she had heard from her new neighbours, and the accounts which they had given her of the people of rank and fashion there, of the perpetual amusements, and of the various pleasures which might be procured there with money, determined her not to bury herself another winter in the country. [76] And with regard to the expensiveness of a polite residence in London, Sir Thomas had rendered her perfectly easy, by informing her that people of fashion never went without what they wanted, whether they had money or not, as no tradesman dared to refuse sending them the things they ordered, or to be troublesome afterwards about the payment for them. Sir Thomas, however, was here too bold in his assertions: he shad met with many incivilities from the fellows whom she dealt with; but his assertions, delivered with a very consequential air, made a strong impression upon Mrs. Selby, who now found her wants multiply so fast – wants as numerous as those of her daughters – that had she been possessed of twenty times the shm she could at that time [77] command, it would have been insufficient for the gratification of them.

The hoops, in a few days after they were ordered came down. They were’much too large to be genteel; but the girls stretched their old flimsy,, half dirty silks over them, and made themselves appear the most awkward, tawdry figures to be conceived.

In their new hoops and their old silks they hurried away to the Baronet’s. There they found an addition to the company, by the arrival of Mr. Charles Lumley and his brother George, who was designed for the army.

Both these Gentlemen were young; they were rather agreeable in person, [78] and were quite, in their appearance, men of the world.

The Miss Selbys were now powerfully engaged in stealing glances at these fine fellows (who took no small pains to attract their attention) and listening; to the pretty nonsense they sometimes threw out on purpose to see what effect it would have upon a couple of girls who had northeast they soon perceived, till then, seen any man who really merited the notice of a woman of taste. With their tongues and their eyes the country girls endeavoured to be as attractive as posible – and their violent efforts to please were succesdful. Young, healthy, handsome, and new objects, the Lumleys beheld more charms in them than they would have, perhaps, discovered in more beautiful women: and as the fair sex are [79] seldom deceived with regard to then conquests, they presently perceived the impression they had made on their admirers, and began to plume themselves upon their success. They both, indeed, immediately reckoned themselves settled for life.

Fanny Selby, believing that she had entirely captivated Mr. Thomas Lumley, looked upon herself as already Lady Lumley, and mistress of the mansion-house, and estate belonging to it. She actually began to draw up her head, send to feel her consequence, before the visit was half ended.

This visit was finished pretty much, in the same manner as the foregoing one – The Selbys retired losers – but they [80] were too much animated by their prospects to be affected by their losses.

While they were riding home, Mrs. Selby looked first at one of her daughters, and then at another, and bade them mind I what they were about; adding, that something might certainly be made of such acquaintance as these, if people had but sense to conduct themselves in a proper manner. – “I never was so lucky,” continued she, “as to be thrown into the way of people of fashion, who could have made my fortune: Had I ever met with any other man suitable to me in every respect, I should not have married your father: but he was a man of character, and I married him for a settlement. Though I have not been able to advance myself,yet I hope I shall be raised in my [81] children, and gain an increase of respect from their connections. Tho’ I have not had an opportunity to be the wife of a man of fashion, I still hope to be the mother of one.”

The girls, who thoroughly comprehended their mother’s meaning in this speech, listened, and simpered, and cast significant glances at each other. When they came home, they kept up a kind of ocular conversation during supper, in spite of all Mr. Selby could say to draw them into a verbal one. He disapproved entirely of their frequent visits to Lumley-Place, and of the manner in which they dressed themselves upon those occasions; yet, as he could not prevent their aisting and appearing tor, tally out of character, he began to relinquish all thoughts of endeavouring to [82] bring them to think as he did upon the subject. Being a great lover of peace too, he chose rather to give up a point, than to be always contesting it without any hopes of sucess. Fond, indeed, of his children, who might have been reckoned tolerable, he imagined, if they had not, by attempting to mend nature, absolutely spoilt her, he wished to hear them talk over in an evening, what had passed in the day, and join in their innocent chat: but, as all he could say proved ineffectual, their heads being quite, giddy with their imaginary quests, he, left them to enjoy their conversaion by themselves, and got down his solitary meal as well as he could.

Mrs. Selby now said very little to her husband, but when she wanted her purse [83] replenished, or her wardrobe recruited. This neglest he bore with great composure, as she had been too much accustomed to talk too fast for him, especially upon subjects which were not always agreeable to him. He comforted himself also, by hoping that, when the very genteel Lumleys were gone back to London again, on the setting in of the winter, his wife and daughters would return to their senses: really believing that they had impaired them by associating frequently with people who, from what he could learn, had discovered not a few marks of insanity.

Till this happy event should be brought about, Mr. Selby amused himself with looking after his farm, and in contriving to improve it; very rationally supposing, from Mrs. Selby [84] increased demands, for herself and her daughters, that an increase of income would be as necessary as it would be eligible. Yet he was by no means willing to spend any overplus he might be lucky enough to find arising from his economicai improvements; he wished to lay by a decent sum every year, in order to make some provision for his daughters.

One day, when he thought they were more importunate for money than they ought to have been, he endeavoured to silence them, by telling them, that he they would show more prudence if they denied themselves a few trifles; to save a sum for the making of their future lives comfortable.

[85] Mrs. Selby, overhearing this answer, bounced into the room, and said, she did not know what he meant by comfortable; that he talked in a strange manner; that she had not the least idea of the word comfortable, that it was a very old-fashioned word, and that nobody thought of comfort. – “Taste, elegance, and magnificence,” continued she, “are the fashionable expressions: people who are in a style of life to command them, are sure of enjoying all the felicity which this world can afford: and without a fortune Sufficient to purchase such felicity, life is a mighty dull affair.”

Selby heard all his imitating wife uttered; but as her sentiments as well as her language were quite new to him, he discovered astonishment in every limb, [86] in every feature. He was almost incapable of speaking: he was pretty sure he should not be able to speak to the purpose. He thought it best, therefore, to be silent: and, indeed, at that time he would have been quite over-powered, as his Lady poured out all her rhetoric upon him, and happened to be then particularly eloquent.

The good, mild man, at last, to relieve his ears, retired into the garden hastily, leaving his loquacious wife mistress of the field. But though Mrs. Selby had, in one sense of the word, gained the victory, she had not been able to carry away any plunder; she, therefore, could not much boast of her conquesr. However, as there is always some advantage in driving the enemy to a distance, if he cannot be brought [87] to desirable terms. So Mrs. Selby conceived hopes of worrying her husband out of what she could not get out of him by persuasion. She knew that he was very Strongly attached to a country life; that there was nothing he detested more than the bustle of company, with the attending expenses; that he would have his own nasty way – as she c it – if he could; and that she could hope to carry her point but by one way of proceeding – by making his life uneasy, by oppossing him in everything, and by obliging him to part with his money to purchase the peace which he enjoyed, before his family had entertained notions So unsuitable to their situation in life: a situation in which he was desirous of seeing them remain, as he could not afford to place them dna more elevated Iphere; nor indeed did he believe [88] that they could be happier than they were, could he place them in the highest.

Mrs. Selby presently saw all that passed in his contracted mind, and despised him for his groveling notions. She thought herself, and her children also, completely formed, not only to shine in the great world, but to raise themselves, by their persons and talents, to a rank far superior to their birth and fortune.

With these absurd ideas floating in her head, Mrs. Selby soon became instopportable to her husband – She was continually asking him for money; telling him that she could not do without, and that, by refusing her the sums which were absolutely necessary to keep up th credit of the family, they should all [89] lose the finest, and perhaps the only opportunity, of settling their daughters to advantage: an opportunity which might never offer again.

It as in vain that Mr; Selby told his wife he had no desire to settle his girls in any other way than that in which they had been educated – “And supposing,” continued he, “any men in superior stations should make advantageous offers to them, of which I not see the smallest probability – I shall be one of the first to oppose their acceptance of them, as I very well know that neither birth nor wealth can ensure happiness – I had much rather call a man in my own of life son, than a man who, thinking himself superior to me in every respect, admitting them equally [90] deserving, may be apt to treat me and my child with contempt not to be endured.”

In this rational manner he talked Mrs. Selby; but, by telldng hi in this manner to her, he only made things worse. She would not allow what he aid to be right: she plainly told him she could not bear to listen to the delivery of sentiments diametrically oppesed to her own; sentiments which no woman of spirit ought, she said, to entertain; and by wearying him with arguments in support of her own opinion which she would never give up, actually obliged him, for the sake of a quiet life, to furnish her with the money she wanted. For a quiet life, he was reduced to the disagreeable necessity of [91] driving his family forward to their own destruction.

Mr. Selby was a very worthy, and a very sensible man, but he was not proof against the perpetual applications, teasingly made to him, for pecuniary supplies. Money was continually wanted for changes of clothes, for card-expenses, and sometimes for little refreshments, similar to those which the Lumleys gave on the days of invitation.

Sir Thomas’s two sons were now coming continually to the Selby-house. The elder of them attached himself to Fanny, the younger trifled with Molly; who, naturally vain and haughty, envicd her sister’s having made a conquest of the immediate heir to the title and estate. Not that she, in any other [92] respect, gave him the preference. Their prospects been equally flattering, she would have chosen George, the younger brother, but as she sincerely believed that Tom had the most honourable intentions with regard to Fanny, she could not well bear the thoughts of the younger sister’s taking place of her.

As for Fanny, she, being of a more gentle and affectionate disposition than Molly, would have been, quite happy with Tom, had he been the younger son; if her mother and sister as well as the Miss Lumleys, had not been always saying, that no people are looked upon who are not both in genteel and affluent circumstances; and that the rich and the great were the, only happy people. Stimulated by these declarations, perpetually [93] repeated, she exulted at being distinguished by the eldest son of a Baronet; yet his distinguishing behaviour was no matter of real joy to her. The truth is, the young Lumleys only amused themselves with the young Selbys during their necessary visit to Sir Thomas and my Lady. However, though they, at first, dangled after them merely for their diversion, and to make the tedious hours in a country retirement pass away more cheerfully, the pleasing person of Fanny, and her manners, infinitely superior to those of her sister, inspired Tom with a tenderness which he had never felt before for any woman; yet, though he really felt an inclination for her, it was not, by any means, an inclination likely to end in the manner she expected. He would, indeed, have pronounced anybody mad [94] who had supposed it possible for him to entertain serious thoughts of Selby’s daughter; and as he never had the least idea of degrading himself by marrying her, he never mentioned a syllable which could give her reason to expect an alliance with him; but she waited with impatience, every day, for the avowal of his passion, and had prepared an answer ready for the tender question, whenever it should be articulated.

When the time set apart for the stay of these young gentlemen at Lumley place was expired, and when they were to purshe their journey further into the West of England, to visit an uncle, whose fortune, as he was an old batchelor, would, be divided, Sir Thomas and my Lady fully imagined, between his nephews, George, never liking one [95] woman long, was not much concerned at having an opportunity to leave a spot, of which he began to be heartily tired. Tom, on the other hand, who really, felt a passion for Fanny, though it was not of the purest, of the patonic kind, rather wished to remain there a little longer; at least, till he saw whether he had made the wished for impression upon her heart. Had he indeed known what passed in that heart, he would have have had no doubts concerning his power over it. Fanny, however, tho’ extremely susceptible of pleasure, had not yet lost the modesty which is inherent in every woman of delicacy, and therefore concealed her feelings from her lover with so much care, that he was not able to discover the share he had of her regard. There was also a little finesse in this behaviour of hers; [96] for, as she had set her heart upon making her fortune, as well as pleasing her fancy, by marrying Mr. Lumley, she thought it quite necessary to be upon the reserve sometimes, lest he might imagine she was to, be gained upon much cheaper terms. In consequence of this prudent reserve in Fanny’s behaviour, Tom was obliged to leave Lumley-Place, without being certain of what he wished so earnestly to know; not choosing, eager as he was to learn her sentiments relating to himself, to be altogether explicit on his side. He talked, it is true, very warmly of love, but he had never, either directly or indirectly, hinted a syllable about marriage: and it was his silence with respect to marriage, which threw the Lady still more upon her guard; which rendered her [97] more discreet than Ihe would otherwise have been.

When Tom bade Fanny adieu, he took care that his parting words should be uttered at her father’s house, and not at his. He expressed much concern at the separation, and a kind of anxiety about finding her as much affected by it.

She artfully enough replied – “I have no reason to suppose, Sir, that you will be affected by any change in me.”

When he warmly assured her that a change in her would give him considerable uneasiness, she answered – “Tender speeches alone will not be convincing to me. There is but one way of convincing me of your sincerity.”

[98] He understood her perfeclly; but as it was not then convenient, or indeed proper for him, to give her the conviction she wanted in her own way, he pretended not to comprehend what she could, with no sort of delicacy, explain. They parted, therefore, greatly distatisfied with each other. Charles, however, at his departure, made many protestations of tenderness, which, though not quite satisfactory, ■ were sufficient to induce her to believe that she deeply engaged his thoughts. With this consolation she was forced to be content; and tolerably content she was with it, as her sister had not been half fo much encouraged to imagine herself beloved by the Captain.

Molly was not near so amiable as Fanny – Many connoisseurs in beauty [99] reckoned her the handsomest of the two; but the pride, vanity, ambition and restlessness which she inherited from her mother, rendered her personal charms less attracting than they would have been. Fanny, though she had her mother’s propensity to pleasure and parade, had also an agreeable mixture of her father’s mildiness and gentleness. Softened by that mixture, she was, upon the whole, the far more desirable girl; and she had, indeed, been for some time greatly admired by a young neighbour, whose father, though only a far cultivated more land than Mr. Selby did, and had a larger income.

Young Lewson had not received a polished education, but he was modest, sensible, and exceedingly well behaved; and his father, who had both [100] a sound understanding, and a valuable heart, had regard enough for him, to consent to his marrymg a woman with a small, with even no fortune, provides he liked her; provided there was a porbability of her making him a food wife; a suitable companion, as ready to share his sorrows as his joys, and to assist him in the care and improvement of his affairs.

This was the character of the elder Mr. Lewson, and his son was exactly of the same way of thinking. With that way of thinking, with a genteel person, and with a naturally chearful temper, he was a very desirable object, exclusive of his fortune, which was superior to that possessed by most of the young men in that village, or in the next. Of all the women he had seen, he liked Fanny Selby best; he had [101] had frequently met her at several houses in the neighbourhood, he had often joined in a dance with her, and distinguished her more than once, by desiring her for a partner. At, these times and indeed upon every occasion, she conducted herself with so much propriety, in his opinion at least, that, being equally pleased with her person and her manners, he made his father acquainted with his inclination for her, and his determination to make his addresses to her.

Just at this time Sir Thomas Lumley brought his family into the country. Fanny was then so much taken up with them, that her rural lover han no proper opportunity to declare his sentiments to her.

[102] Soon after the departure of the two brothers, young lewson happening to I meet with Fanny and her lister at the house of a common acquaintance, renewed his intiniacy with her. She at first appeared rather stiy, and played off I a Sew of those airs which She had caught from her genteel neighbours, and which might have discovered to many people, a total change in her manners: but the eyes of lovers arc not like the eyes of other men : sofar from feeing any improper reserve in his mistress, Lewfon thought that he himself had occasioned the alteration he ■perceived in her, by not Having attended her with his former assiduities: assiduities from thejceeping of which he was ^ prevented, by feeing her surrounded by Fij j *1 young people of both foxes, and elpe J p; I I ‘ i daily by men Ib much Superior to him,

apparently, in every respect. His natural modesty, and a consciousness o’ his deficiencies, for want of a fashionable education, and a fasliionable appearance, hiirdered him from intruding himself upon her, .: and from mixing with young fellows w’ho Seemed every way qualified to Sink him into a cypher. But when he Saw her again among her old neighbours and friends,, he began to ind both his passion and his courage re’ ‘, and once more resolved to pufsue his first plan. With this view he endeavoured to make himself as agreeable •toher as possible. She could not, however, now look upon him, now listie© to him, without forming comparffons ft ■ to his disadvantage; yet, as she had been accustomed to the attentions of Lumley, she thought that lewson, as he had thrown himselsin her way, might F 4 Supply i I / |i|ji •TO London. Illlj Supply his place till his return, sofar J I shs to do life little Services, to Say Soft I j things to her, and to flatter her intost good-humour with heirself, when arty I ] thing happened to disconcert her. On I j thefo terms, ‘ and on ‘no other, could 11 It Ihe think of shffering Lewfon near her; lijj and this extraordinary piece of conde III feenfioh in her, elated him to shch st j ‘degree, ‘ that he soon fancied lie ihigbt 11 sttehture^ to kb{fe for every” kind of iii “dulgencfe Which he ought to desire, II dafter hstvisttk’followed Fanny for a week or tenfostys, and taken her flirt 1 ing with’shim for a rfeal inclination, |1 ‘ W.. r jli lie foized thejflrst luck morfient, as he ||| th6ught*uwhichsfocturred, ‘ and made an

, Fanny, had She never seen thelumleys, would not, perhaps, have refused le\y ion’s offer: ike would, probably, have’ ‘^ • •. ^ gladly accepted of it: but j after having entertained hopes of a baronet’s eldest fon, She could not think of becoming • ^ 00 • the wife of a farmer She,, therefore, re j tested, at once,, a fettlementy which «* • * • might have rendered her happy, - could file have brought herself’to look upon it in a proper light; but v^ity and.prid^, had made her infensible of her lover’s real merit, and fly refused him with a ^ * haughtiness that ititcned iber exceedihgir ly, and gave.great uneasiness. was pained by her refusal, .doublypaim. ed to perceive a total; change in her disposition. Many men, indeed,, in’such a rejecsted situation, would have been < less: disturbed, shy considering the Lady imdefcrving of their attachment to her; - F 5 they *

•! f: Hi! II i If ills. they would have confbled themselves, LIII by thinking that their lost, in const ■ i ** fi ^ J! quence of the change in her, was not st I I great as they imagined it to be: but o / o i Lewstn, who really loved Fanny, was I of a different turn of mind : he felt a III sincere concern at finding her lest amiable upon a more intimate acquaintance, with her, than be could have believed her to be. Agreeably to his feelings KD wi O upon the trying occasion, he left her with the strongest marks of regret in his countenance, with the keenest stnsa tions of sorrow in his heart: telling her, however, that he could not yet prevail on himself to give up the fond hopes he had fo long cherished of calling her his; that he would wait for a more favourable opportunity to renew rhe fiibjed nearest his. heart, She made him no answer. C Just as he was leaving the room, Mr Selby met him.

»

Where are you going?” said he and what makes you look sole rious ?”

. After a little hesitation, he told him, on his repeating his questions, all that had passed between him and his daugh,

I

ter; concealing only the unusual pride with which he thought Ihe had treated him, but lamenting his inability to touch her heart.

Why surely—-the fehlible Selby –V surely stie cannot have refused ! Such an offer, and such a man too! You have certainly mifunder^

F 6 stoosh

—

9

I

!■

i III i

!: !!sh>shi; ^: siri ■ iiiiiiijb’im* ■ 1 ’ 1 i iiihibi!’;! : 1 |l®l|i • ’ I ijil’ I’off Xhe Journey – ta’londonri ifl C sho LI, : !!: LI ■ Iliiiii: ^ flood her; you have taken the natu II I ll.bn Jl I III ral coynels of a girl upon the Erst |»||: ||; ji’l : iiijj proposal of such a nature, for a dei I! nial. –But never mind it, lewson : I I dare Say she will come to: I will I talk to her : it is impossible for a girl I to stand So m ich in her own light, as not to accept of you with pldafure?* lewfbnst’ features brightened into st Tmllei at Mr. selbyexpreffiori*iri ’his favotirh lidt h was very eertaiii that he had nbt bten shiftaken with regard to stvhat hist daughter had said tff hifn : he I told him, however, at the same time, that though he loved Miss Fanny Selby shetterstliah any Woman in the world, he ‘V * II ‘V ‘ y • J shoiild be very lorry to have her made uri ststfy iipon^^j account. If she iis not ‘‘ inclined, “ added he, ‘ to yield to ^ my perfuastohsc J shust tip all < ‘ my 4 t % S \ I I’ 9 !. J, . 109 my hopes of happiness with a womarr who appears to be of fo different ^ way of thinking.”
f ^ t # ‘L With these words he took leave of 4 4 ‘ I V the old Gentleman.’, - , V - ■ r i ■ •.. • A A
1. - ■ S «■> L -. - Mr. Selby, w’ho had been transported at having So good an opportunity of Settling his daughter, was now quite mor tihed at hearing She. had acted Ib likec a C. A’ ■’ ^ ‘♦ fimplefon. Going immediately in Search of her, he found her making up a cap From one of miss lurnley’s patcer.ns,, Tn her mother apartment. r , ‘f So, miss, “ Said he, as he enterieji the room i how foolishly you have shehayed I > What could you meari by P refusing, young. lewson .fa man who v > •’,.. • ^ { ■; /: ■,, ….;; dt. will have fo pretty estate:, who is. ‘ ‘ ‘sober
». * « I r ^ i If!! ill f y i’ nt ^ Journey. TO London, II Iilii V sober and modell, and deserving one of the best wives in the world V I Fanny, both Siirpriled and vexed ‘being fo attacked by her father, colour ed up to the eyes, and replied –do not like him. Sir; and, they ‘‘ for, I thought it right sto refule him II.. Not like him !• –not like him answered mr. Selby : is that poflibh Why,. you are really a prodigio nice Gentlewoman –and pray wh can you find in lewson to dislike?? I I j V Everything, “ replied Ihe — 1 ill I neither like his person, manners, n j hi I situation inlife.” !| h il I i Ij’ ^ II orar And why not ?” –laid Mr. Selb I eagerly –why not? his person j ‘ -, ‘ ham , im ‘‘ handsome,. his manners are, I am Sure, very agreeable; and as to his Situation, it is the most honourable and desirable of any in the kingdom. Who are fo beneficial to society, who are fo useful to their fellow-creatures, as those who Supply us by their dili gence and labour, with the neceffa* • > ries of life, who literally toil to give the nation bread ft It may be Jo, “ answered She, pertly; but 1 do not choose to marry at farmer’s fon.” i
ft ‘ A heyday—-pray what do you expedta Duke .t • Sure, papa, “ said she, bursting into tears, there is a great difference ‘‘ between Such a low man as Mr. Lew fon 4

^ fori and a Gentleman; and I only - desire. the latter.” ’
I !ii. ‘, ^
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111#
I II
J jil I ■ You do ?’■ –Upon’ ‘my word Aotir
1 III! “ • ■ ‘
ill demand is a very modest one. –But,
III I let me tell you, ’■fdnriy, ‘you’wiir be
Ijil mirch ‘ hstppieri with young Lew
i i‘ 1 ^ ^
I LI fon, than with a proud, conceited,
Hii ipiii! ^ * ■
II 11 ‘ ill tempered Gentleman, as you call
LI him, who may be ds poor as a rat
I bii i ^ V -. ■ - : * •
j I into the bargain. Such a person can
jii| I. / K, ^. \ ff’; d..
I shever be fo desirable as a dtecnn fen
|1 ^ lible, ^ good liumoured young man,
I Ik / I ‘ ^ ^^ i ‘ ^
II ‘‘ who Farms His own ground, - and en
I deavours, shy being industrious, to;
j I ^ improve his estate, and to make it at
j! ^ once advantageous‘ to himself, stnd
I ‘leafeaste td his iieighbours.” I
j|i wriy A: ‘vri: ’rir • ■■
ill’ J. i i .* ^ ‘
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The Toitrnev to london, ir’g: Indeed I shall not be happy with young Lewfon, “ replied Farmy; • it is utterly impossible’ ‘

You will not be happy with, any body, with .Such; a Set oiv notions iri your head, I. do not See how you / ‘ can poffibiy, with those notions, be

‘■ ‘. ■ I happy at ally ■. :. 0.. -.’ V.. •. ‘N ty.. ^ • •• i, -. _ i: v i V. ^ t; People wlio are not low treirrselves, “ ialdi Mrs. Selbyi caifnot like those are : and I am nqt in the. least furprteed at fanny’s, objeding tq ydustg Lewfon. I really wonder you should think of him yourself; ^bujt yoiir ideas are fo’ grovelling; that yoii canhot bear anybody except those tfyf ‘ C V V -. - ft - - who have the same, and want your daughter and me to think as vulgarly f/as‘’yoii do. I affure you, however, that V ft

I iibii ■ ‘‘h I Jl- – ‘’ ■*’

LI 1 I 1 ill ‘V that we never halli and is the girls ■ ■qhshftro’h]* CM vjli’j 1*1^: jp; * are not downright fools, they will be 01 ny opinionv II. Aye! – r you have quite spoilt –quite turned their heads they will never be good for anything again; but since it is foi have done; I give them up. I should have been glad to settle them decently in the world; shut I see it zv not to she done,, as they will never think of V marrying any men but those whom thty cannot get at; and y«?ho would make them miserable, could they be married.to, them. It is indeed more,, V likely that nobody will give himself I il any trouble about them in that way : il and So, Mrs. Selby, as this is your ill V own doing, you must even take it Sori III . ■ i your pains, I would have done luy ► I I 4 i I ’ X J w R ^ E y, ^ Q. Lon PT?. s i ^ ‘b bell; for them; but you will noi let the girls think for themselves : I arrj ‘td « » Sorry for you all, but I cannot help it : isuyou will .ruin yourselves, you % must: : I have Said and done all 1 can’.

- ■ However, let ipe telst you once Sof all, Mrs. Selby, you will live to re,, the hiiuleiing. yo’uf ‘daughter t from making her fortune r Making her fortune !’* replied she, repeating those worcis in a Sneering tone: will She, by marrying a farmer’s Son, a mere country bumkin, make her fortune? I Should never have thought of that, I own: but Some men have t‘ the strangest fancies /

‘I Aye! and Some women too, “ cried t. m. • •* A ♦ ^ * * he, hurrying out of the room, quite ‘■ ‘’ - weary

lil No shoner was begone, thansmrs. j il Selby began to .question.’fanny.” about ji| lewson; and concluded, with telling I jli’ her, shat she hoped she 1 would Idbk^ j I shove Suchdow fellows.. - - ^ I I : ■■ ‘ rr.’, ‘ - ■ i miss Selby, though she despifed Lew Son also, would htlve been very glstd tc| have, fish the compliment her sister hacs received, - even frorri the lowest man iif I the three, kingdoms, pouted not a little, I qpon the difeovery of this affairi She I had long shipested it,. but was notshre 11 ps it till this eclimffementtconhvmtd/d
I lier shspicions. “ ■ i pi ■ jji Fanny, thus Supported, in her ilk H i ^ ^ II i ■ pride by her moth^ri ‘and egvied HP: ….. by. } st V ‘ fi U! H’v! ! pi ■ lij : LI ‘» rl’ii! i! !is; i ■ / The; jovaniy ’l’^nfio^; II . by her, sister - quite satisfied with ‘what she had dorie, particularly fo wlhdh she thought of Lumley, whom she was . / 1 ’*■ more than ever defifous of securing, as an alliance with. would raise her to < the height of her ■ wishes, as st would Set V ‘ ^ herjab^ye her shleri and shven her mb sher, and could not soil of giving her some consequence with her father, who, though he spoke fo frtely against psto jile of Fashion, - would hot; oshe bieifeved, |^ in his hearti’ be sorry .50 see his ‘daughter tanking among them.” -, ut»v.

r ^ •.. 4ti f ^ V y V t V 5 U. i… 4 .it;. – – . .ic ^ ■ •-‘ A ‘ ‘■ While Mr. Selby felt himself totally dissatisfied with his daughter’s condust, .lewson was rendered still more unhappy by it. .During the continuance, indeed, ‘ of the young Lumleys at their fathers, he had not been inclined to venture a niong them, yet, ashe imagined that? neither (! 11!: ‘hilr Im ur ijhiji! ||’ ‘ lit the’jottersy’abt_.d^ III neither of them had anv fcribiist elefisns I 1 ^ ^ lill ■ his Fanny, - and never observed! any signs of dislike to himself in her, he I I was’ shi mated by the’nioft’ flattering hopes to believe that he Should gain her cshnsent. Nf disappointment, Therefore was very great: he was truly mortified to find the woman whom he had long ad ibired iind loved, not only extremely in differenf about him, ‘ but alsq {trongly disposed to treat him with contempt. He was exceedingly chagrined at her cold, at her insulting behaviour, yet even that behaviour diei not, cure him, * as he first fancied it would have done, of his passion for her. On the Contrary, he, like many infatuated people in love, felt himsdf but too fondly attached to her. He strove, indeed, to conquer feelings which he could not defend by a’ Severe ejtami

riation.of her imperfections, but he found ft that when they were contrasted with her beauties, they were Soon forgotten. The latter took possession of his mind, and I i baffled all his befl; resolutrons. He could no longer resolve not to see again the woman who had rejected him; he secretly pined for an opportunity to en deavour, by the moll assiduous attentions, ^ to make her entertain sentiments luore favourable to him. • » Fanny, while her lover was in this (iisquieteel state, thought only of Mr. Lumley, and pined as much after N’ii? as Lewfon did after her. About this time Charles Selby arrived ¥ from Cambridge to spend the vacation at his father’s. He was a well made, ‘ genteel, handsome young fellow, with a very t I || il! I uro , i very good natural understanding, which he had taken pains to improve; and as his father had designed him for the church, he threw more feriousnefs into his countenance than generally appears in the faces of young men in the prime of life. Few young fellows indeed were of a more thinking turn: he loved read ing, music, and drawing: he was a no bad performer on’ the harpsichord, and I had a very pleasing voice, in the management of which he discovered great taste. The girls, who were fond of their brother, flew to Welcome him, and with their heads full of the Lumleys began, to tell him what a charming family they were acquainted with. They ran on for sometime with Such vclubility that he could hardly take in or comprehend what III they seemed to wish him to know, but jill ‘which I Pp h ‘ t k “N

/ ; which they were incapable from their. I eagerness of communicating : at least i ‘with the preciston which he appeared to expect from them. He Smiled, however, f \ at their excessive vivacity, while he entreated therfi to Speak one at a time, and with more composure, that he might understand them. « ‘ $ At the end of the conversation ’ • * ^ K V A • Charles .was full as defiroust of being acquainted with the Lushleys as his’ ^ C ‘ A ^ i ‘’’ ‘ fisters’had been. It was therefore agreed upon between them, that he Should, on the very next day, be introduced to … ■ ■ : ^ V ^ ■;

I … … V… …, them. .. ‘ - - V » , r •.. .D….. \ ‘ - ■ ■ ‘ .r ‘ ^ ‘ ‘l *, ’• it *. r * * « The next ftiorning, just when the miss ‘’ • k ‘’ ‘ L - Selbys were goiiig to Set out for Lumley ^ in order to introduce their bro ‘i there, the Ladies, of whom they had ■ I. ■’ G Cl - “• t

talked about to him, made Their aj: ||^ pearance, I II The Mist Lurnleys, though by n i !|||: means complete beauties., had, both, Some j Pi thing very attrastive in their figure; I II. There was a majesty in the countenanc II ji of the eldest, tempered with an, engaginj I ij foftnest : the features of the youngel j||i were not fo regular, but there was |||| naivete Spread, over her which renderei H her very agreeable in the eyes of a younj I man who had never met with Such I kind of woman in the course of his aca I demical education. J Both the sisters started with furpril i at the sight of Charles Selby. The i thought him a striking figure, and, al | |: ter having been lb long immured in th i h * •• ‘ 1 brii t ^ Ip country, far from the busy haunts C m men, II i ‘ I m I I . 123 men, “ looked upon him as a very dei

firable acquisition to their little society. They, both, at once, began to make an attack upon his heart. Charlotte, with an indolent foftness in her manner, cast her eyes, every now and then, languisti 0 ingly on him: Harriot pointed hers at him, with all the vivacity in her power. \ For a considerable time the poor, de fcnceless youth was in doubt which of them he Should prefer. Not that he was perplexed from any natural inconstancy 4 of disposition; he was only distradted by the various and opposite charms of his assailants \ at length, gained a decisive victory over her sister. The grace and elegance of her form, the fnovvy whiteness of her neck and hands, and G 2 the * ‘ft I I jl the ealy negligence of Her rnanne II j; made the wilhed fbr impreshon of S( 1!|| byst heart. He confeshed Nr fuperio: I I ty over all other women he had hither 11 beheld, and freely owned that he shou I I I reckon the man truly happy who jlj capable of gaining her affections–— I sisters laughed out at the serious ma I ner in which he spoke.. Fanny told hi I I she supposed, from what she h Il heard Miss Lumley say about mat II III itony, that it would not be prudent I j him to think of her. I l am but too well assured” “ I I he, still more gravely, of the imprudcr II of such a thought. So fine a lac were she disposed to look at me w I l’ ‘ eyes, would not be a pro I II - wife for a country paribn.” I ‘/ » / , . 125

\ ‘/ Oh! as to. that, “ said Fanny, where there is a Sufficient fortune people may make what appearance f ‘they please.” r 1 I I I They may, “ answered he, but, ‘‘ they would show more discretion by ! not making an appear ance V .4 % ‘I; Nay –if you are fo very discreet il ‘‘‘ you will never, succeed with Miss.. Lumley. I have heard her say a % thousand times that she hates your dtf creet people.” ft ‘ J told you, Fanny, she would not do for a parsonhs wise,? Said he; and then gave a Sudden turn to the con V ‘ G 3 When * V /» * \ iiilfe lotii Il Jp||;; 1 lli 126 . i tii’ III I ji When the Selbys went next to sirtho i III masst, Charlotte Lumle^ cried, Well, hili protest, Maria, “ (for fo She called nil Miss Selby, and Ib she told her stie ! Ill ought to be called, as Poll and Moll II were the most vulgar sounds in the 1 11 li world) that your brother is quite a I LIII handsome fellow. .Dis pity to fooil iilii him by making him a parson.” 1|:,. ‘ iiii III I believe, “ replied miss Selby, I I. he would gladly be excused from talc 11 ing orders; but my father thinks it [ proper to put him in the way of pre ll || j ■’ Your father child, “ Said she, by III what 1 can find, would ruin all of p He would make his fon a stu j|i • pid fellow of a college, and marry ip; poor Fanny here, to a mere rustic. lii ‘ ■. As ft I 1 4 , izj » As to you, .Maria, I suppose he would not have yoti married at all, but keep you at home to look after the pigs and chickens. –But this brother of yours, my dear. –Why didn’t you bring him with you? Here is no man, you know, in this place, and where there is a scarcity must: take up with what we can find.” / r Indeed, Miss Lumley, “ said Fanny, who was fond of Charles, I , I do not think my brother despicable—-• he may not be quite fo polish as the men in London, yet I dare say there are many women who would love Charles exceedingly.” / May be So, “ replied Charlotte, red cnning and drawing up her head, (and -

i; by fb doing, creating shfpicions which northeast lil’l ver entered before into the mind of Fan Cil Itiji my, who now began to imagine that Mist III Lumley was as much pleased with her I brother, as he was with her;) May be i fo –Some women may like shabby Par who cannot get any other meh, i but people who have beauty and birth, “ I continued she, shatching up her head still higher, may have plenty of admirers, lovers without number.” Here she assumed a look of insoient I triumph over the two Selbys, who hung their heads, ashamed of not having been able to boast of tiocir conqiitshs too. ! Fanny, thinking of Lewfon, fetched a 1 gentle sigh, I Molly f • ^ II

1 . r! ! ^ Journey, to London. afp ft » Molly sighed at having no lover at • • all to think about.

■ -

« « While the Miss Lumleys, however,

seemed superior to the Miss Selbys,

they were by no means fo happy as

they affected to be; for notwithstanding

their pretending to be indifferent about

1

Charles Selby, they, both, wistied to I please him, and were continually going,

k,

to Mrs. selby’s on purpose to put themr, selves in his way. The attentions which

I

they paid to him were not disregarded. He very clearly perceived them, but he

found himself only inclined to return i the attentions of Charlotte. He soon

indeed contrived to let her see that he distinguished her from her lister. –Flis: preference was fushcient to make her de r firous of encouraging him, and she, in a. little time, by not forbidding him to

G 5 be

I

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• lljil Pll’:,

|js|; |!; 0 ‘ ^

ii ^ .

, II H ■ ‘i,. t • I

• ’h ill - lb’ ‘ I

u.dsrte’’ t

||ij| be particular, infornned him that his prer

LIII I poflcflions in her favour were not disa

ilii ^

I I II; greeable to her. This encouragement of

I, °

course produced familiarities between || them. They trifled away a great deal

I of their time together, and poor selby’s

heart was at length irrecoverably loll, He’conficlered –but he considered when i it was too late –that he could not, with

I put the, greatest absurdity, think of mis:

! Lumley in any Ihape. –It is idle tt

I ^ suppose that Sir Thomas will evei

I content to her marrying a young Sef

I i low who has no fettled income; ant

lllll I cannot, on any account, bring my

I’ ‘U’ ^

I j self to take advantage of her conde

!! scensions.” –The little Sreedoms, how

II ever, with which Charlotte indulge

ij her academical lover, relying on his rc

I; fpeft, fbmetimes inflamed the passion

I of them both, now and then threiv

. ■ ■. 2- ■’ there
The journey’ to’ London, igi f » them, off their guard, and made then carry matters rather too far. Starting, one day, in the middle of a I very tender tete d tue, they were both alarmed at the dangerous situation in ^ which they felt themselves, and both I I consented to withdraw : but in a little while afterwards, forgetting the reafoii \ they had to be cautious,, they relapsed into all their former softness
- % • ‘ \ », <. .1 - • ■ About this time the two.’lumleys returned from their uncle’s. « ‘ \ Tom, flying to his Fanny was furr. prised to find her sitting with the greatest familiarity by the fide of a man,, whom he took, not knowing he was her brother,, to be a lover., He began to grow warm, immediately, at. the sight of / him. G 6 Fanny ^ r I fi s y ^ ^ fill - - ■ ■ ‘ ti i Sib i ri; il ■ L ill! mia jli 132 The ‘Jourx’ey to London. I Fanny very soon perceived his mistake, ii and hastened to undeceive him,, by pre
- I ■ * • ‘ ill ji lenting her brother to him. ihi iillifvil }} V ’t’i \ I By presenting Charles to Lumley, she I gave an instantaneous relief to his dii sturbed mindbut he grew difeomposed j again, - being apprelienhve that fb near a relation to his Fanny might be very j troublesome, and hinder his proceedings ihj •’ with her. From the manners and conii ^ verfation of Charles Selby, he plainly I j discovered him to be a man of sense: Il I from his behaviour to his lister, he as Il I plainly discovered that he had a Sm I II, cere regard for her, and would not i lee her iissured by anybody. He there iil fore rather wished this brother had not Il I ti h i ‘ij I ill r lj i conie in his way, eljpecially at that mo ■ if K’l i ^ r lllll menr, as he checked the transhorts l • • – !!II I. ■■ ■ ■ ■ he jil Cm il!, ! mk’m i . 133 he was going to pour forth at the sight ‘of his mistress. <1 I I Fanny, not in the least conceiving that her brother’s presence could hinder her lover from disclofing his paltion for her, concluded that he was changed, during his absence, and that he loved ^ her no longer. * In € onsequence of this concluiion, she drew back in her turn, and treated him with a mixture of astonishment and reserve, which he by no means, relished, as he was not conscious of having given her any reason to. make such n, altera tion in. her behaviour., V •* y It was not long, however, before the two lovers came to. a right understanding: but though ’ Lumley was, - pleased 1 III 1 p i i 8! bi’ lilt tj’l’ii’i:; lli 11 Lii II Hi ‘ ‘■ i ‘ ‘ /S’ Iilii 134 . Pi: iii xjt J mh illl pleased at being, undeceived, • Fanny was I dj n I) ||| j; ; ii far from being ealy; feeling, upon llpl returning tenderness, a considerable in || crease of her own, She did not think k safe to trull herself much alone with him, as he had never even hinted the most distant propofel of marriage. He thought, indeed, by lulling her prudence asteep by the soothing fondness j of his behaviour, when Ihe was quite off her guard, to take advantage of her affection for him, which she could not, he saw plainly, conceal, and to bring her to his own terms. In this situation they for sometime remained. Molly, unable to exist without one lover, when her sister had two,, did everything in her power to fix the attention of George Lumley entirely to herself: but he was far top volatile: I yet, I [ii H I I r i % • , .135 \ yet, as there was no woman nearer more agreeable, or, at least, more ready, he trifled with her, to pafs away the time. I He really meant only to trifle with her, but fly foolishly flattered herself with the hopes of his making, one day, serious proposals to her. Giving way to. * this eielusive idea, Ihe conceived a thousand disgufts to any offers that might be made by a person in a less genteel station ■ ‘• ■ /. . ‘ • • ■ ‘ ty * •. ‘ • Q “ ^ • ‘ • . While the young folks were thus amuflng themselves in a manner by no means likely to contribute, in any shape, to their future advantage, Mrs. Selby found no pleasure but when She was cither at cards with my Lady at li\tpley place, or in making little parties for her Ladyship and Sir Thomas at home. By this employment of her leisure hours, Ihe 9 1 ilii 126 . iii I D ^ ill I; if i - L ■ • • lily she was the happiest creature in the uni i’ll j ll j jlj! verle, yet she idled away the greatest Mlii, part of her tirne, and lost her money; Iilii both which, if properly spent, would Ijl: have been of constderable service to heri self and her family; but neither her fondness for her children, nor the duty I and affe^ion which she owed to Mr. scl |i by, made any impreshon upon her. Frequent were Mr. selby’s remonstrances, I but they were also fruitless: her head j was entirely taken up, absolutely turned, II with a desire to dress, to play, and to I. live, in every respect, like Lady Lura III lay, whom ihe followed with a minute I nest of imitation; never perceiving, tho’ i it was very visible to everybody except iii ■ hersels,. that my Lady made the highest liift jest of her. djjtdjdfl!. II ■ Lady iilii i L Isis ■ I » ‘ K / w * ‘. 137 j Lady Lumley, however, having rei peatedly made herself merry at Mrs. [ selby’s expense, began to grow tired I with laughing always at the same objest, I as Ihe had no people of her own taste I down with her, to partake of her mer[ [ The country began now to be I extremely dull; but the winter api preached : Ihe therefore told Sir Though I mas, that She could not be any longer ■ I rusticated ■ found Lumley place in i deed So very different from Berkley square, that she could not help wishing, and with impatience, for a return to the me tropolis, in order to enjoy its various, I its almost innumerable amusements. I Sir Thomas was, luckily for her, as j Sick of the country as herself; and I the young Lumleys, of both Sexes, j joined heartily in favour of London. I Charles I p 138- . |i|lj - Charles Lumley,. it is true, did not i: : wish to be, separated from Fanny; but I as he law no prolpedt of accomplishing lift: his desires with her at that time, he was |; not lorry to change his situation;; I that a short absence might be of feri vice, by trying the strength of her af I section. Hn order to make the Ipeedieft I trial of this manoeuvre, he began very ll • early to talk of his departure from ill W ill i Lumley place with the family, and his residence in London during the winter. Il’iji I ■ ll’ i • || Fanny, though it was natural for her |( to imagine that such a gay young fellow 11 would not continue always in a Iblitary Hljl country, had not once j ill thought of his ever leaving it. She i therefore fetched Ibme sighs when her J Fh: i!’ !’ • • If:, i lover communicated his disagreeable in |e|it ‘. o. imj:! tedigence, and at length, on being

prelted, declared herself very much con.. at the .idea of a separation. He % told her there was but one way for her to prevent it. –Go to town with me, Fanny, and put yourself under my protection.” To this procedure, however,. Ihe made a strong objedhon : she even chid him for the mention of it, and blamed herself exceedingly for having, by her behaviour, given him reason to believe that it was postible for him to suppose: : would listen to it. Yet she coiiid not, at the same time, disguise the un r eafiness She felt at his being obliged to‘ leave the country. A % By this inability to hide the feelings of her heart, he was convinced that it was tenderly attached to him, and that no ■ ’ i thing ■ I s / t If 140, . 11 ‘thing but her innate modesty, and ll ‘ the good advice her father had given I “I her, prevented her from complying with his wishes. He told her there was still I another way to hincler the separation she I fo much dreaded : ~ Try. to prevail I on Mr. and Mrs. Selby to Spend the j winter in London also.” ^1 Fanny, though by no means in a plea Igjlj font humour, could not help stniling at in what she looked upon as the most impro I bable of all improbable schemes–— Nothing upon earth, I am Sure, “ Said j she, will make my father quit his I farm, and live in London.” Lumley replied, A very trifle will soon make your mother determine I ■ upon it immediately; and I really I think Mr. Selby ought to comply with I I % ft . 141 with a request of this kind—-is a pity to keep two, such fine girls, as you and your sister are, confined in fo retired a place, without letting you see a little of life, and giving you both an opportunity at least to make your fortunes.” The careless ease with which Lumley mentioned Fanny with her sister, upon ft this occasion, perfectly convinced her that he had not the least intention of marrying her. She figheel again; yet llie thought with him, that it w” as a pity stie and her sister Should lose the golden opportunity he mentioned. The first time Fanny happened to be alone with her sister, she repeated what Lumley

Lumley had said to her concerning them in a negligent manner. ‘Molly, not having had the smallest idea of the Lumleys leaving the country, was quite struck at the intelligence, and exclaimed –Good God! This place, will be absolutely a desert when thy are gone. We must persuade our mother to go too.” You may easily persuade my mo “ said Fanny; but, I think, Ijil my father will never be prevailed Ijj upon.” i don’t know that, “ answered III Molly, it will be worth while to try ijl at least” “ # /

. 143 As soon as the last word was out of her mouth, stie ran to Mrs. Selby, and informed her that they Should soon lose Sir Thomas and Lady Lumley. / Mrs, Selby, though She was much hurt by this information, was willing, like many other people, to push’off the evil day; and not chusing to believe what was So very disagreeable to her, repsied –It is impossible—-down on purpose to live retired, and to Save money; it is not at all likely, therefore, that they should return to London.” Molly answered, I am pretty Sure, ‘‘ that my intelligence is true, as my Sister received it from Mr. Lumley. — « But don’t let us stay behind, mv dear Madam, let us go with them. I can • ‘‘ ijl i 144 … 1 not bear to be left in this dull stupid!! . i - A ; I How you talk, child !” said Mrs. I Selby: as if it were polfible to per your father to anything that is polite and rational. He had never the least notion of the one or the other in his whole life. - Had it not been for me you wpuld have been as great Hottentots as he himself is.” We will all try to persuade him, however, if you please, Madam, “ Said Molly. I ’ Let me first; hear of this affair from Lady Lumley, “ replied Mrs. Selby,

and then I shall have better authority I for my proceedings.” I Agreeably t T s (
1. ’ ‘ % r . 145 t ‘, * i Agreeably to this determination She went to Laejy Lumley, and told her Ladyship that she heard she was going to London for the winter: adding, that she thought she was very much in the right, and that she intended to follow her ladyship’s laudable example. Lady Lumley, ever averse to any connexion with Mrs. Selby (whom she had only endured, as she called it, because there was not a Single creature fit i O to converse with in the whole place. and because it was imposhble for people to live always together, without speaking to Somebody) flared at this address, the freedom of which she thought pretty extraordinary. Looking full at the Speaker, with all the contempt she felt for her, she Said, –Surely, Mrs. Selby, vol. I. H you »«■ \ 4 II . you do not know what yoii Ere ■ talking of’! You go to London!” ^ Yes, Madam –Why not? Why should I not go to London with my • friends, as welf .as your Ladyship y with yours PT Why really, “ said Lady Lumley, reddening at rlie bare fiippofition of being thought upon a footing with Such low creatures –Keally, Mrs. Selby, I do mot apprehend that you and I are alike in any one respedt: behdea, I should not have thought of your going to London at all.” O O Yes, my Lady, I do .think of go ing. Why should I and my children be buried alive in this dismal part of the country, more than other peo dic ^

pie? I intend to let my girls see the world as well as other folks.” Oh! to be sure—-you can get I Mr. Selby up to london, “ replied her Ladyship coolly, pleasures are to be met with there for all kinds of ft CC people.

1 She then turned the con » ‘ versation to Something else, determined not to have anything to do in So ridiculous a Scheme; determined to break I off with the Selby samily as Soon as she could, not being able To bear the thoughts of knowing Such wretches in town, though they Served to fill up a vacant hour in the Solitude of the country. Mrs. Selby, however, would not be put by in that manner: fly continued upon the subject which engrossed her attention, till file learned all .that file wanted to know; and was not

l[; te4|ir ■ Iilii deterred from the Journey lilij: I Jo london, by The pains which Lady )j||j Tumley took to let everything relating jl’i h ‘ * …. ‘ lill,, it in the most dilcouraging light. fkamr •>, b. Ilip Mrs. Selby having long wanted td iliis (fee London, thought me had now the IS’ ‘ opportunity imaginable to grail itify her Strong inclination, as Ihe had || got fo genteel an acquaintance, and I shad acquired fo much useful know || shy conversing with her. Hur !| Tying home, she made her daughters III ivery happy, by telling xhem she was I resolved .to carry them to shondon, as I she found that Lady Lumley was go I ing in about a week, and bade them I let their father know she wanted to I sspeash with him. I. Mr. I t \ , 14^^ f Mr. Selby was very busy with his mowers when his eldest daughter came to’ bring him to her mother. He was exo

tremely unwilling to obey the Summons, as he knew that his company was Seldom desired but when Something was to be got out of him He hung back, and and said—-well –FU come by and by, “ ‘
t «
w. ‘
My mother wants to speak with you direduy, “ said Charlotte,
is
ft
r
0 •
Your mother is always in a hurry I about Ibme nonlenle or other, “ replied
he, following her, fretfully;. for his temper had been conliderably.foured by
t ^
, I
the late indiscretions of his wife, and the
• *
of his daughters. -
I O ^
4 » • •
I: H 3,.. ■’ When « I ■ ■ 9 f ) * jiii’ 150 . iilii When Mrs.. Selby Saw her husband, ||tei at a distance, ‘ advancing, she exclaimed ilii eagerly –Come hither, Mr. Selby; Iftfll! come hither –I want to talk with y 1!! nj S ^ * % you. –Sir Thonias and Lady Lumley iii are going to London with their family llilp for the winter, and I think we may ‘ili. f ^ J r’ ‘ ll f I l’ ♦ I as well take Maria, Fanny and Charles, and Ipend five or six months there also : it will be quite an agreeable Scheme, naw we have made So proper an acquaintance to introduce iis everywhere.” Flere she ceased Ipeaking, and waited for his answer. 11 To describe Mr. selby’s looks and LI attitude, at the concluiion of the above speech, is utterly imposhble. Fie liar

I CD –he started back: he opened his mouth I Several times to Speak, without being j able to articulate a Syllable. At lasc he” I made fhist to Say –To London, Mrs. ** Selby? Have you quite lost your senses *** Lost my senses!” answered She ^. tartly; why Should I have, lost. my senses ?” %. \

^ You, certainly, are mad, “ replied he, to think it postible for me to Sup my family in London.” I And why not, pray why not as ‘, ^ well as here ! ■ t’ ‘everything, is double and treble the price; and because, if I; [ ‘‘ was to leave my farm to the. manage’ I H 4 ‘ y menti ■■ / I |ii|l 152 . ment of servants, I Should soon, I fear, I receive not above half the income I I’ do at present; and that halft peril ‘haps, not regularly paid in above ‘ twice the timed !” cried Mrs. Selby, let me propose what I will, you are always making objections; but they will fig nothing; for I mtifi go to london: : had better have less money, and enjoy it there, than more and i it here, in this dull place, n where it is imposhble to ei^oy any thing at all.” 11 I don’t lee the meaning of that, “ 11 replied Mr. Selby : ‘‘ we always erssoyed ourselves very comfortably here, till LI this curled family came down to live ^ f 1 ‘ A ‘‘ near us; and now we cannot be hap J ‘■■ - py. ) / \ V t . 153 s py, truly, ’ because we must: do every. 1 thing just as they do Mr. Selby, “ said she, do ^ not abuse Sir Thomas and Lady Lumley; - I’am: sure they are very genteel people.” Aye –but Such genteel people, as. you call them, ruin Such plain people as we were, Mrs.. Selby, before these came among us.” I t Well! –I know it is to no purpose % talk to you about these things. You don’t understand them; you should, therefore,. let us alone, who. do.” Yes –I may let you ruin, me, yonr ** self, and she girls into the bargain, I ‘H 5 supr % / (

jl j but I shall not, I asture* r –IS I cannot keep my wife in or li der, I will, at least, take care of my jl ‘‘ children.” ‘ j 1. –d! what harm can come tonnes I i in going to London, papa ?” Said’ I Maria. Do not people come and go I j ‘ every year, without being at all the worse for it? Besides, are there not I thousands of people in london who live the merriest, happiest lives in the I j ■ world V ■ how came you to know how they live in London, pray?” Said j • Selby. I am Sure you talk of Ijlj what you do not understand.” jjli ‘mf we do not understand. Sir, “ laid il Fanny, it is for want of going among .■. ■ … those . 155 * tfiofe who can inform us; and if we were to live in London one winter, we Should return much improved.” Improved! Yes –improved in vice and folly, I dare say; fo you shall” “ where you are.” Indeed but they Shall notv said Mrs. Selby : though you take no care ‘‘ of your children, and will not puc them in the way of making their for ; 1, who am their mother;; 4 know that it is my duty to introduce them into the world, and to make; them acquainted with polite life.” Oh Lord, Lord !” exclaimed Mn. % Selby, lifting up his hands and eyes ■ why you must certainly be diftradtecit to talk, in this manner. I have »’ ‘’ V • H thoughtj,, i ilii ils ‘I ‘’ !pp! |!|! ||||||’^ II 15-6 . 111 thought, indeed, that both your Illl head, and the heads of your girls, j been turned nnce your acquain i with this very genteel family; and jl j but the giving them quite i pill up, and never feeing them any more, il rellore you to your senses.” frii jl ■’’ III *■ • • II ja iheering laugh from Mrs. Selby il I now almost: provoked her naturally pa |||| husband to become absolutely in a Ijpf passion; he contented himself; howe 11 ver, with only Saying, –, What do you grin at f I do not recoiled: !: that i have Said anything in the least ridi 111 ** culous.” I I > ‘ No to be sure—-are always I Ij in the right, “ answered Mrs. Selby : Ilii ** your talking is to no purpose. I 11 P know very well what I am about, if ** i \

i: i Ih’ and I will have my own way : you, ■ will have me to thank by and by, | , i for the making of you and your fa ft • i b Z – – – – ds, Madam !” –Here his fi patience was quite exhausted - –| run on at this rate –You would make ‘‘ a paribn swear—-tell you, you will I 11 I A ruin us all. –We only want to be j what we are; that is, I do not want # I to be otherwise;; would the girls, I dare lay, if you would let them * alone. You have already hindered I Fanny of a good match, by filling I her head with your confounded non i W; sense about people of fashion and \ polite life, and Inch stuff She would j have been fettled in a very affluent j manner, and would have been very K happy with Mr. Lewfon, if you had | - ‘ let ‘ I • j

I let her alone. Yet you are always I talking of putting her in the way of I making her fortune : but mind what I I say, Mrs. Selby; I believe you I will mar it entirely : few people of I Safnion, as you. call them,, marry I country girls, with Small fortunes by putting these fancies, therefore, I into the heads of your children, you j ‘ will make them, both above every I honest, plain man who is their equal, I st till they are drawn in, like yourself, I to imagine that the moon is made of I a green cheese, and’ to, become kept j mistreffes, or downright prostitutes, I for anything I know., Hold your shocking tongue, Mr. j ‘‘ Selby, “ Said his Lady, whose deli j cacy was greatly wounded by his mentioning his daughters in shch a mani

jjjji ti mn

♦ ilh’ 1 . 159 I I ner –Yet, though me was shocked at | the thoughts of their being kept mi | she did not look upon such a provision for them in the atrocious light | it deserved –Having Suffered So much! herself, through her own folly, by be!! the wife of a mam whom she ever • delpiled, she imagined that her daughters might be more happy as mistresses to men of rank and fortune, than as wives to farmers, even to gentlemen I farmers. She therefore continued to talk to her poor husband about the great designs she had for both her daughters, and the hopes fly had of procuring a very advantageous settlement for her fon; adding, that her girls would, she doubted not. Succeed in the world as, well as the Gunnings, and the Dutchels. of C – – – – ^d; but that none of these fine things could be expected, if they were always J i \ / I i; : ‘s’ ‘111 ; ‘ct, ■ ‘mm’’ m ‘A; ; ‘ LI 100 . II ff’ ** ill always kept up in an obicure corner of ii the country. –In short, Mr. Selby, I lil will to London, whether you like - lil t f.y no “ . It 01 no. ii; II By teasing her husband one moment,. II ‘ and Itunning him the next, Mrs. |||| Selby at lafl; forced him to give the III conlent she wanted, for the lake of a I ‘‘1’ il little temporary quiet. He agreed to ill let her and her daughters have lodgings i! i ^ j jlj in, London for one winter, on her pro |ji miling, upon sher honour, to return to II the farm, and to sit down contented for 11 ‘ the rest, of her days, if she did not da the business proposed by that time. Ill This capital point being gained, away 11 hurried Mrs. Selby to communicate to || Lady Lumley intelligence which would, 11 she thought, be most agreeable to her; I I . ii j and she finished her information, by | begging her Ladyship to recommend | t lodgings to her, j * This freedom offended her Ladyship extremely.. Drawing up her head in a very lately manner, fly told her that she had applied to a very wrong personas all the people whom Jloe knew had large and fine houses of their own, o That may be, “ ■ said Mrs. Selby, not in the least, disconcerted, So much had the thoughts of Ipending the winter in London raised her spirits—-I know that a great many*line people lodge in London; ay, and Members of Parliament, and Baronets too.” Very likely, “ replied her lady fiiip, but / am not acquainted with any Then turning from her, A iw. ‘ 1162 ; ’ |. her, she amused herself with caressing the dog. - miss Selby, however, was not quite So unlucky as her mother. so learned from miss Lumley, that when people wanted lodginqs in London, thcty commonly wrote to Some persons whom they knew there, to procure them against, their arrival. Happy with this information, Maria could. not rest till she had found a moment to tell her mother, in a whisper what she had just heard.. Mrs. Selby, impatient. to put her design in execution, took a hasty leave of Lady Lumley, and returned home, - in order to write to a person in London; with whom she had, for a long time, occasionally . 163 occasionally corresponded; a Mrs. jef feribn, whose family had Sormerly had Some connexions with oer father. This tf Mrs. jefferson had married a great oilman, and lived in thames street. to her therefore Mrs. Selby addresfed herself, and desired her to hire the genteelest lodging that could be got at the court end of the town; chnfing to be’ as near all the places of public diver / as polfiblei X \ / « Mrs. Jefferson, who perfectly knevr t Mrs, selby’s Situation, and who thought’ that a very expensive apartment would _ • be absurd, went to look at Several, before she could meet with one which she imagined would do with regard to price, as; no part of a private house was to be had but at a most extravagant one. At last, she met with a roomy Second floor, * i ^

ii fioor, at a millinerst in the Strand, agreed I ijl X for it at xht very reasonable rate three hill guineas a week, and immediately in ilii formed Mrs. Selby of what Ihe had ijl I done, in a letter; alturing her, that as I lip every corner of London was crowded, - 111 especially at the polite end of the town,. II ft it was utterly impossible to get anything ll decent upon more reafbnable terms.. 11 Mrs.’ Selby, not having been at j 11 cuftomed to anything of this, nature, I started at the exorbitant conditions, and 11 ‘ still more at the thoughts of living at I a Shop, which Ihe concluded must be II ungenteel. However, as Ihe found that j Mrs. Jefferson was not disposed to Serve ijll her in a better manner, Ihe determined I to make the best of the bargain made for her. –When I once come to lon ‘f don, I can change my lodging : let. … nie 4 e I » . 165 • 4 me but get to fo charming a place, and all will go well –I shall then be able to look out for my self.” She ft was chiefly puzzled how to procure from Mr. Selby a shm fushcient to defray the expenses of her journey, and to pay for her apartments. As to what would be requiflte for their subsistence, she imagined that it would not come to more in London than it did in t the country –We must eat, let us live where we will.” –But fly never ft considered that a divided family mufl spend a great deal more than a united one. Everybody knows that half a dozen people can live cheaper together than separately \ Selby broke this great affair to her husband in the best manner she could. She told him that it would be hut for 1 ‘ “ once’,

cnce -, and that, if he would trufi to her he would be amply, repaid. –I an ■ resolved hovrever, “ added she, - n go, whether you like it or no: aru if I do not, the lodgings, as the; are taken, imifl; be paid for : we hat better, therefore, make the most o them, “ ‘: In this way, partly by scolding, anc partly by coaxing, Mrs. Selby carriet her point: but Mr. Selby could noi bring himself to consent to her Journey to London, without the greatest reluctance. While this important bullness was transadting at xt farm. Sir Thomas and his family –hurried as much by my lady –left Lumley place, and arrived II berkley sc]uare. –They only, took a fly

j ing leave of the Selbys, without getting ^ out of their coach. –Mr. i..umley indeed had a private interview with Fanny. Selby the night before, and Charles Seh bv also had an interview with Miss Lumley. Charles found a marvellous coolness in his companion: being on the point of returning to a place which swarmed ‘With men, she became quite ft i indifferent about her young academical lover, who, ‘by his father’s exprcss commands/was to go back to Cambridge, when he had seen his mother and filter I ! safe in London. ll F i T he buffnefs now in debate was how L, ! to get to the metropolis. Mrs. Selby wanted to travel in her own carriage,

O like Lady Lumley, and to keep it, after her arrival in London for her owii life: but she could not, by any means, prevail I

‘H’’ - ■ ^ S; i prevail on Mr. Selby to conlent to the llfji removal of Dick and his horses. She II was, therefore, obliged to be content I with places in the Itage for herself her daughters, and her Ion. I o ^ I Exceedingly mortified by this vulgar I fnode, of travelling, she took care to deafen the .other two paliengers all the way; telling them upon every trifling occasion that fly had never been used to travel in a stagecoach, r Nr pr, and did not understand Such mean doings. The miss Selbys, both, followed their mother’s example in this respect,, though they Saw the other pafltengers were country people, and lick to death with riding backwards, having probably, never been in a coach before (at least % . 169 least not for a long time) would not condescend to offer them their own seats ft opposite to them. The nearer they came to London, the higher they held. ‘ up their heads; and were totally difcon cerred at being obliged to step into a hackney coach in order to be carried to their lodgings. However, when they • \ came to those lodgings, on the second floor, they were delighted with them: A » • they were transported to See So many people pass and repass: they wtre charmed with the noise and bustle in the street from morning tonight. –They were every moment amazed : yet they were not fo deeply engaged by staring » as not to think of sending Charles to Sir Thomas To inquire how the family did, and to let them know that they t « were come to town, and Should be glad to See them, vol. 1. I Charles pm f^ki: f’S-111 ‘S r II 17p . S’’ P ||| Charles, sufficiently deshous of get P .ting at a light of Mist Lurnley, was 1: ^ all compliance, and went to Berkley square the very next morning. He was not a little embarrassfed to behold his ‘ fine lady mistress, sitting between a w 2 caroni^ Lord, and a Coloriel in the guards, to each of whom Ihe appeared to be dispensing favours with the greatest ease and liberality. Little har .riot was at the same rhyme entirely en II gauged with a young Right Honourable in orders, who made a very uncierical j appearance. His hair was drilled fit for a bag; he had a black satin waistcoat with black chenille and bugles : he had white linen breeches white silk stockings, and a light grey frock with a waist which almost reached to his garters, and scarce any Ikircs at all. I his dainty i?ivine was expatiating upon a

The j0urnev fp Lonoon. <.17.1 f ^ ‘ / i large tiofegay which he had just taken i from his buttonhole, for which he had given a guinea that morning, and which gave him an opportunity to display his

» ‘ parts in a flowery manner, by drawing ‘• Comparisons between the colours of his bouquet and the complexion of the Lady to whom he addressed .himself. 5,. Thus situated - could not get in a word : Lady Lumley, herself, wais equally taken up in adjiisting a dispute, ‘which had happened the evening before « « f ✓. ^ ‘ta where fly .played, about her renouncing trumps when She I had two constderable ones in her hands, , ‘ ^ ■ 1 ^ - shut had, front her excelfivie eh^ernefs to .. y L ‘ win the vole, overlooked them. * ‘ . > « i – ^ f - ’ Charles, finding every part of the family at’ home - particularly employed,

01; j kfi The journty ‘ ttelfonocins fiii* fj: daid a card stpofrbricdf the table^l^’lwitli ll .the name of the, peqpie where^hst mother II. lodged, upon it, and retired. ‘f! fi IV •. » ■ ‘ A.. 9. U ’ i. ‘ • il When he returned to his mother and ibi’s Ijl lifters, he told them, that he believed ill ‘ ‘. ‘ ■ I they would see very little .more of Sir I Thomas, lumley’s family.; - lw, in K. S They all leaned forward to look f ‘ f • 4 • Jiim in the face while he” ipoke .Ihafe words. ‘■ ■ ‘ - i “ II 3 V.. -/ *)

- ^ • f ‘ I t Fanny was fo much hurt by theni, ithat fly screamed a little. sj Mrs. .s^by desired to know what he, meanr. m . t. He then informed .her, that he found 4- * * the whole family totally taken up with , ft, ^. 4

iqompany; that they had no leisure t<> atterid to hi in; that he believed they hardly saw him; and that he was pretty sure they did not know him, if they saw him.i, .■■■■ „
L What did they not ash after us?” said Miss Selby,
x.
. I not ‘fold you, “ replied, Charles, that they did not know me? how thfo could they inquire after
you?.
■ * ‘• * “ ‘ V ‘ tyon * S v* V
-* ■- V’ ‘. ‘ ■. “ .N ‘’‘‘c/,
I hope you left. the card, “ said Mrs. Selby.
♦ – r.
‘ \ - ta -•
;… - ‘ - r -.
Charles, not a little piqued at Mils Lumleyst indifference, or, rather,
at the great attention she pah to her
• «
town acquaintance, made but a peen,
i! I 3
‘V • ‘ ^.
i”
AM
SC •
__ V ■ ‘: : i’ i ‘hsi. •.

14 iliu. ■»- •.. >• • * II, 1-74; The Jour ney rcr London ■ |; h ^ ^ ^ ■, vish answer, refblving to return to thr I fkrm in two or three days at fhrtheft. III ‘. m 4^/yf \ ‘ik. “ -. • ‘ ^ ^IH;! I Mrs. Selby and Maria –fbr fb Ihe determined to call herself for the future — I now thought of nothing but how to pro i cuve some fashionable clothes, and to go to see everything that was to be Seem. Fanhyst thoughts were pretty much of III the lame kind; but she could not help sighing at theshegledl of Lumley, though’ It. • 0 ■.. if her brother afterwards < told her that h6 t !’ ‘j’ •I was not present when he called. / V ‘ i’ ‘

II. ‘ I While the three Ladies were conshlt ! ing with Mrs. Puff, the milliner, who I fj ^ ^. ■* ^ !|! was mistress of the houle, and whom they Sent for up stairs to know what I! caps were the genteelest, Mrs. Jeffcrlbn I called to ask them how they did aster II ^ = l.. • their journey.

I The jpurnev IO LONOPN.

ft As they knew that Mr. jelferson \yas only an oilman, they were quite furpriff CD to see a fine Lady enter the room, who appeared to them to be dressed, in every respefl:, as well as Lady Lumley. With they soon made an appoint dfient to go tfiat very evening to see Garrick. She told them, howeverv ^ i. f that they must mob it in the gallery, as it would be utterly impofilblp for them to get places on the day of performancei most: of them being taken a fortnight or three weeks before. To this way pfi proceeding Mrs. Selby made no objee « tion, as Ihe could not, Ihe said, appear dressed in public till Ihe got proper clothes : I do not choose” “ She, to purchase any till I see what is 4 the newest fashion : I have clothes •0 enough, but T fuppose they won’t make up in the present taste.” 1 4 Oh,

II V ‘‘ Oh, dear Madam !” replied Mrs. i|j Jefferson in London only
SI grow old by Ipeing seen—-is impos
II fible to keep any genteel conipany
III here without a great change of
I clothes: no genteel people’ ever api
appear twice together in the same
I gown.”
! ‘ ‘ ‘ ■ ‘ ‘ ■
t. • •
»
Well! I like that fashion vastly” “
said Maria; I love variety prodi: V •. nothing looks So like people of quality, to be Sure, “ Said the oilman’ ‘ as appearing in a great number of rich Silks.” The miss Selbys, both, alien ted to that position, but with very Serious faces; as they began to fear they Should _. never I ♦ * , lyy never be able to procure those necessary appendages to quality, ^ - As nothing now but the play was talked of,. Mrs. Jefferson agreed to call on them in a hackney coach early enough to be there at the opening of the doors. # i They got tolerable places in the gallery. ‘i’ ‘ : Maria,, having been helped through’ the crowd by a Gentleman who hap per?edto*‘be near her, was the particular objet of Ni’attention during the yfhole’ evening; : he.foom found out, sitting by * her, that she was a counti7, Ygirl, and that she had never seen a play before. J. • A .’n .’ ‘ f ■’ ■ t ‘4 Mrs, Selby, as fly had been present at Several dramatic pieces in ‘the town ^ I 5 where ft 4 9 r / I ‘ > il tfs . r where her father lived, pretended to be extremely knowing in everything relating to the stage, though she paid not ■ LI i half the regard to the business of the ! III o |: theatre, not even to Garrick himself, as ■ J • j! she did to the company in the boxes. ; di Every well dressed woman in them she re. Iblved to imitate in. something or ari ii ■ •, ■ ill:., i, V. • ■ ■ ■ ■ 1 I,; .: ; ■ Charles was much pleased with the III. pershrniance, till he wai interrupted by I the: innocent exclamations of a pretty I girl who sat next to him, and who drew ■ii jl his eyes from the stage to her face : it i r ^ ‘ I was indeed sh exceedinigl^ like Mils I lumley’s, only with the’ strongest marks *•! I of simplicity, that he could not help f wishing Miss Lumley as innocent as ■ 1 I her; or. that Jhe had all those charms I; ‘ ‘whicte ij! ‘ ■ ‘ A..

i The jcrurnev tq London, j 70 wkieli had ib, long pled him in Charlotte. The girl, soon perceiving that she had •* ‘ made /ome impression upon him, began to make herself an interesting object to him. She complained heartily of the. heat, and of being crowded; and by complaining also of a very disagreeable headache, stimulated him to exert all his g^uantry towards the removal of it. Jle presented apples and oranges to her; he made all the room he could. , ^ A AL ■ i, for her, that She might sit;, easy,, de tended her, as much as poftible, fronv the people round her. When she was ready ta saint, he borrowed Mrs. Jef ferson’s salts; and when the play waa. I * * ‘ over, he led her down stairs,, puc her, with an older woman whom she call ^d cousin, into a coach. After having 16 ordered Jfe: ‘ ft - *

Ijll Ordered the coach to drive to one of t j streets on the other fide of Holbor III she invited him to call and see her at I jl ^ leisure, bidding him ask for Mist Cox ji While Mist Cox was thus treati II Charles Selby with a great deal of uhr || cefiary civility, his lister Maria behav || nearly in the same manner to the Ge tleman who sat by her, and gave hii at lastysia general Invitation to M The. selby family had now been week in London; without finding t time lie heavy upon their hands, hurrying about with Mrs. Jefferson to public places, and ordering their Cloat cc. c. they had not a monie ‘’’ ’ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ %

• % Just when all their things were come from the mantua makerst and miliinerst. Lady Lumley and the Miss Lumleys took it into their heads to call and see them, –fora little diversion \

^. ft # •
‘ • 9 r
. V ‘. - ‘.
My Lady, reeolleding herself show ever, added –No –let sts stay till they have rigged themselves; w0 will ‘V then break in upon them fulhdrested,
make them stistike everything they have bought, and put them to the expense and trouble of buying some like what they, see have on.
‘‘ For once, as I must make a few o visits in the City, I shall be in A iny fummer clothes, .which they have not seen, and which will lead them ‘‘ into a great mistake - serve to place them in a very ridiculous light :
‘‘ in such a light as they deserve to be
i’
’ ‘ placed.
I
r’
t!
! The J0VRN.EY TO London.
placed, for mit’dting ripcopxt, fo .en superior to them.”
lil
LI
ill The girls were much diverted, at this
•ji ^
thought of her Ladyfhipst; and as it happened to be a very warm night for the time of yer, they went to pay their
j. ^ ■
visits in Persian ‘ and Indian taffeties, S
j!
trimmed with Brussels lace.,: j il ‘! ‘; i •,,. O’….. ‘ • A loud rap at; Mrs. Puffs private ll door, by announcing company, threw 1 the Selbys into a no small fust with Mrs. jj. ‘BA ^ …… i Jefferson, who being engaged to a routr ! » ____ __________ in koo4 jiane, had resolved to show herself in all her glory, and to take her tea with Mrs. Selby, I » - _ I ^ In darted Lady Lumleyr in a deep I ^. r’ ‘ < / taffety. One of the Mist Lumleys^

was in a pink, the other in a buff per ftan. * Mrs. Jefferson,, that a real Lads was coming, crept to the farthest I corner of the room, all in her fear let and white satin, trimmed with the richest chenille that could be purchased, and curtefied in the most respedtful man ’ ner to her Ladyship, who hardly vouch lafed to honour her with a fingfe glance. f > • • ‘ *, As soon as she shad seated herself III the uppermost place; she cried, affecting to be quite out of breath, Really, Mrs, Selby, I am quite tired of climbing up fo many pair of stairs –I have never been used to such fa “ *= she knew, however, at the same time, that she always step: upbn^ the Second story insherkley square, every night ii

tiight of her life. –I cannot think * how you came to chuse an apartment fb very high from the street.” I ‘i I did not choose it myfeff, my Lady, “ I • - ‘replied Mrs. Selby; but I was told –” I giving Mrs. Jefferlbn a reproachsul cast I of her eye, tltat there was no other. I ‘f to be got.” i’ wi , Oh!! –you are mightily mistaken, “ I answered, her Ladyship: you have j vastly invpofed upon : nobody, ! ‘‘ of any kind of fashion, would think I of receiving company upon a second » * ^ ^. floor: it is excessively low and pie beiat) indeed.” LI 3 » * j - - ^ t, ‘i I I find, indeed, that we are quite wrong in rnany things, “ .said Mrs. Selby, reddening „ with viqxation; for we I % 1 . it have gone and bought satins and tabbies; and I see your Ladyship and the young Ladies are in very slight st silks.. ^ * •’. . Ch! the slighter the genteeler, “ said my Lady: the weather is quite hot, and none but the greasy citizens are sweating in their damashs and satins’ ‘* - ^ ‘ J 0 -.^ Here’mrs. Jefferson, thinking herself hinted at, pushed her little plump « • • k - person forward, and said people ‘‘ say what they will, I am sure that everybody who can afford to buy a winter fiik, always puts it on as foori as Lord mayoist Day is over.” < ^ • ft • 9 * •, ‘ ‘ ‘ ft • » This speech was received by Lady .Lurtiley arid her two daughters with a loud ‘V S. A 1. I’ ‘ ■ i M’ * ! I I i’’ “” !: i J t The joiurnew TO London. 1 ; loud laugh; which disconcerted Mrs.’ I Jefferson to Such a degree, that Ihe could I not think of an answer. Luckily Sori her, the hackney coachman, who had i I’ been to carry Mr. jefferson to Sup at il she London tavern, was come back. [i ^ || She therefore seized that opportunity ta II /’* I leave company for which she plainljr ji few she was not properly qudifiel ‘, i ■ ■

’. * I No Sooner had she left the room, than I t Lady Luniley ashed, with a shpercili I U air, who she was. » • ‘ 1; ■ ‘ » ‘ f Mrs. Selby answered—-Lady irt the city.” • r ✓ ■ ‘ •

•*

■r f ■ ‘ I 1 5 I shave not the least doubt of her coming out of the city, “ said Lady Lumley; but I will Swear that she is no Lady, nor Gentlewoman neither. Pray V / ft •• / 4 Itie Journey;, to London. 1f7 ‘b Pray what is her hiisband? for I sup the woman is married.” ft ft i « i. He is a very good sort of a man’ Said Fanny Selby,, who wanted to fofceii’” matters. ^ 4 , Ay –the man may be well enough f’ ‘ , his way –but I dare fey he follows’ some low business \ ‘( ‘ • - r ‘ ^ ‘ fy. ‘ Just at that moment one of Mrsf puff’s fliopwomen came in, with a band box in her hand, and asked, in a great hurry, if the Lady Was gone.;; ‘ V i » What Lady i” replied Mrs. Selby, both hurt and angry at her appearing’ before Lady Lumley, .’ rr r. r • j s .* < V. * • i - - : W ■ ** Why’’’ V r. ■*.

%

I

! • /

< I n’: fi is . LI r 0 1:; ■ •1 • r. . Whv, Mrs. Jefferson, the oilmanv |:., ?i : I st wise in Thamesstreet: She looked at II j, * Some French rstffies t’other day, and bade hue bring them up stairs when

ffie came next; and indeed I forgot ‘‘ it till just pow.” j lt.are ol : A C ■ • st You might as well have not remem ’ i st bered it at all then, ^’; said Mrs. Selby; st and fo pray leave the room with your band box as fast as you can. Is this st ‘a time – -?” .r ■ ■■ ■ rift K. * « ‘.. …….. . : .ft ^ ^ ‘ • •. ‘ •• ft * ‘ * i . •’ C : ■ , st Why really, “ in terrupted Lady Lum you seem not to be in the most agreeable situation: : a fbabby lodg ing, up two pair of stairs, at a little st^fliop, where people take the monstrous liberty of transasting their buffnefs before company. Upon my word, st .this ..oilmanst wife must be yery intst %• /# V - 1 • , … mate * I » I The ‘ journey’ Tsh ‘‘london, i s9 N ‘… J with you.’ I thought she was some exceeding low creature, by her ‘ idrsfs and manners.’” / –’ * * * ^ N To say the truth, my Lady, “ replied Mrs. Selby, I am obliged to be civil to her. She hired these lodgings O O for. me, or we should not have had a ‘ place.to sit down in when we came to London; “ • You are extremely<chliged to heryto A be sure” “ my Lady, for placing you in die narrowest and .« » most stinking part of the Strand. » Faugh! .1 shdi be quite sick if I stay . . . here, any longer. She herself has left a whiff of her hushand’s shop behind sher, fushcient to poison me. –You « st must, therefore, exciife me, “ continued she, rising; but, for heaven’s

« ^ sake, *

Sake, get out of this filthy house, and get rid of this vulgar woman, rs you ever expect to receive any decent people; not a single creature of fashion will come into, the one, or mix with the other; and fo good hyv With these words Lady Lumley hurried out of the room, followed by her daughters, and they all crammed their canibrick handkerchiefs up to their

\ noses, till they were Seated in the cokch, till they had drawn up the glasses on each Side, to keep out the stench of the s vile neighbourhood, as they called it; t ‘ I leaving Mrs. Selby and daughters I totally difeontented with themselves, vtith [’ their lodgings, with their company, I with their cloaths~with everything r ’ ■. about them. After V I \ \ % J 0 , ipi ‘I After a sullen silence, occasioned by a gmutual diltatisfadion, Fanny Ipoke first, and said, that she thought they might as well have staid in the country, for any pleasure they had received since they left it.
1 I do not think fo, “ replied Mrs. # .Selby; nd If you had not lilced to come to London,, you might have staid where you was.! For part, J like London extremely.”; ► C < !vv ‘ ‘4 So should I, “ said Fanny, if we ‘* S ^ jt /’ / -. • f … i - ’ ‘ i were not fo much ridiculed for hying in Such a shabby house, and keeping i. ft ‘ I.. ^ €* • V Such disagreeable company.”, ^ .. st * J ^ ^ ^ . ’ A , • • V Ji S ^ ‘ . j that, can Soon be remedied Said Maria. Now we are here, we can look about us, and chuse for our ; II; i92 . J and if you please. Madam, “ ..•contimied she, tunning to her mother, I will go tomorrow in search of lodgings in a more genteel part of I the Town.” LI ‘ |! I j ji To this offer Mrs. Selby readily as kit * |1 fented; adding, that she would go along 1 f I with her, and call at the mercer’s in I ^ I their way, and see if they could puri ■ “. chase feme shch pretty cool looking i silks as Lady Ltimley and the Miss 1 ‘ ‘ ‘Tumleys had on; which might be made up, and worn once or twice, and then Serve the next summer in the country.” This mariceuvre being fettled, Mr. ir Smith –fo the Gentleman who sat by m • * Maria at the play called himself—-sin; the second time since the commencement of his acquaintance. To 9 ft ft ✓ \ . 193 To him Maria took an opportunity to complain of the disagreeableness of their lodgings, and to let him know that she should go next day to look out for a better. I will accompany yon. Madam, if . »’ ____________ ‘‘ you please, “ replied he –Perhaps ft I may be able to ashst you.” Accordingly he called upon the’ Selby family. Mrs. Selby and Maria went with him: Fanny staid at home; Y. she was out of Spirits –fly had pined, indeed, ever Since her arrival in’tort don, because fly neither Saw Mr. lum lay, nor heard of him : she had expected him to fly to her, on his being’ insormed of her comdng to town. The ‘ truth is, he was not in London when Are arrived, being gone a little way oiit of VOL. I. K town; ft % / I. ■ 1’ f I t, S’ ■ ‘ •ij94 . ‘ ■ ‘ « i # town, for a few days, to see a sick friend. When he returned, his sisters never told him that she was come. Beginning, therefore, to wonder that he had heard nothing of her,, he made inquiries of Charlotte; and Jhe gave him the most ludicrous description of the apartment at Mrs. puff’s to be imagined. Notwithstanding that description, however, he hastened to See her; and found her, on the abovementioned morning, alone. % ■charles Selby, while his mother and Sisters were thus engaged, went to pay a vistt’ to miss Cox, to whom he had been So attentive the evening before, and’ with whom, as he had now no ft ^ of succeeding with Miss Lumley, he felt himself very well pleased. Mils Cox was, indeed, a pretty woman; she lived ‘/ \ / / r m \ \ / , igj lived with her cousin in a neat house, * handsomely furnished, in north ftreet, . • red lion Square; and they both told their new visiter that they should always be glad to See him. r Sally Cox had not a very pleasing I person, but she had a good deal of that Simplicity in her behaviour, which has the greatest appearance of innocence : and as she was also a sensible girl, she ■ was quite agreeable to such a kind of man as young Selby. She sung too in a soothing, affecting style, and was mif. tress of a number of little allurements, which made him think less than ever of Miss Lumley; though he would not have been fo much taken with Miss Cox, at first, had she not strongly resembled that Lady. But what particularly contributed to attack him entirely to her K 2 was \

/ i ! * * I i o I ‘t ll 196 ; 1 was, her having appeared to be Struck with him almost at the moment she Saw ■ him, and her seeming to feel his company necefsary to her happiness : and

- as, he perceived that Sne had everything ♦ genteel about her, as he beheld not the least impropriety in her behaviour upon any occasion, he thought he could not poffibiy be wrong in giving encouragement to his growing inclination to her. But to return to Fanny Selby. I Mr. Lumley found her rather unwilling, at’first, to listen to any apology he could make for his apparent ncgl’ed: he, at length, however, convinced her that he really had not been to blame, as he was detained at the house of a sick friend longer than .he intended to Stay there. Fanny * I I Fanny then gently touched upon the cool reception which her brother had met with in berldey fquare, and upon the pains his mother and filler had taken to put her family out of conceit with .m their lodging, with their acquaintance, with everything about them. He excused the reception her brother had met with, as well as he could, by saying that they kept fo much company in London, it was very difficult to find them ever disengaged; and that, in the world, people were obliged to pay an outward respeft to numbers whom they, in their hearts, defpised; adding, that cufiom, and indeed necessity, rendered such a conduct Sometimes unavoidable, though it was most commonly very disagreeable. –As to your apartment, my dear Fanny, “ continued he, looks 3 ing / J i V . » * ft k ing round, I do not think it by any i means fit for you. By making fo poor ‘ j an appearance, you will drive every person of any fashion from: you.” » * 4 What appearance would you have us make.?” replied she, with a melancholy air –• an appearance which we cannot shpport? My father, ‘ I » believe, can ill afford to do what he has already done, at my mother’s re ; and it would be vtry wrong in her, or my of us, to desire him to do more.” » My dear good girl, “ said Lumley, charided with lier affectionate dispofi tion, and the propriety of her sentiments me have the happiness of ashsting you; let me provide for, my Fanny, whom I most sincerely love, and ‘J % I I , igg and by that affistance lessen Mrs. Sel ** by’s expenses.” * ft •
• No, Mr. Lumley, “ replied She, with a spirit which he did not expect, with a spirit which, though it in some degree’ damped his hopes, he could ’not help admiring; No, Mr. Lumley; iwill never throw myself out of my my father’s protection, till I choose a man who has a right to take care me.” ‘ I I wish, my dear Fanny, “ answered he, with a tender look, I was that man; but it is not, you know, in my power to marry without Sir Though consent, except I give up every 0 thing; and then what a figure shall I make hereafter, with the woman whom I may marry, with a mere title with K 4 out 0 i % \ s ‘ioo . Oiit an estate! Yet, “ added he, fofr |; ening his voice, if yon will conlent to wait till my father’s death, and put C under my protection, I will I promise to be yours.” r * # r, ‘ 4/ V *’ V * u g No, Mr. Lumley, “ answered she
the tears trembled in her eyes; no, I say –I will not enter into fo hazardous an engagement. Sir Though may outlive and I do not wish to come into a family who will 4 despise me. I beg, therefore, that you will leave me : let us at once break off an acquaintance which, if continued, can only render me more unhappy.” 4 \
i 9 And can you desire to make me wretched, Fanny ?” said he, with the most affefling air imaginable. You ft 0 I \ I \ . 201’ You will not be very wretched, I believe, “ replied she; you will Soon forget me : you will not, in a little while, remiember that you ever knew me.” ✓ Indeed, indeed, you wrong me, 4 Miss Selby, “ answered he but I am doubly unfortunate, by not hav it in my power to make a more agreeable offer, by not being able to convince you that I shall really be very unhappy on the breaking off a connedlion which has afforded me So much pleasure.” XI

Fanny’ was Silent: she could not, 0 prudently, approve her lover’s propo fills; she was grieved at his not making any to which she might listen with discretion. Still more grieved was she. at K 5 the % t t 202 . ithe thoughts of parting with him for ■ever: So uncommonly Soft, tender, and ‘engaging was he at the moment she was on the point of a final separation from him. Her heart was deeply affedbed by his fo moving behaviour; her pride also was not slightly wounded –From the commencement of her acquaintance with him, she had flattered herself with the hopes –though they were distant ones –of being one day Lady Lumley; shut now all her hopes were totally dei ■ ^. tnolifhed. She could not nov rationally indulge her brilliant expedlations. She was, therefore, very sensible that llie had nothing to do, but to put an entire end to an intimacy which could not but prove dangerous as well as dishonourable. Yet the pleasure she had, from the very first, taken in his company, was fo great, and had astefled her So sensibly, ✓ 9 . 203, sensibly, that Ihe knew not how to consent to a separation, the necessity for which was but too plain. Lumley, who clearly saw all that paflfed in her heart, found he had more interest there than he believed he had; and the discovery made him more loth to part with her. When She rose up, therefore, impatient, from the anxiety she could not Suppress, and told him, it was absolutely neceltary for him to leave herj started out of his chair, and clasping her with ardour to his bosom, swore that he could not go; that he wouldfooner part with his life than with the only woman he had ever loved. Let us wait, my Fanny, “ added he, feeing her melted with his tenderness us wait for better times : let us be true to ft each other: let us hope that some K 6 fortunate . 1 ‘I 204 . \ fortunate change may happen in our affairs, and unite our persons as firmly as our hearts.” Poor Fanny, almost lost in love, quite lost to herself, without a fingk friend to advise her, at length murmured out her consent to wait for him, upon his bosom. •: Lumley, charmed at having So far gained upon her, and being well assured that she could not always resist both lots 9 wishes and her own, being apprehensive « • of a surprise by the return of the family, took care to conduct himself in Such a manner, as to create no Suspicions of his having any other design than the Seizure of a few innocent caresses.. which, for the first time, gave her as much pleasure as she gave him. The 4’ 4 ^ ft . 205 The return of Mrs. and Miss Selby m with Mr. Smith, very soon sent Mr. Lumley away. They came home, indeed, ‘ So full of what they had seen, heard, and purchased, that Lumley was no longer remembered by anybody but: Fanny : jhe bclievecl, from what had just passed between them, that She never had So much reason to think of him before. Mrs. Selby told Fanny, they had been looking at the prettiest lodgings, which were recommended to them by Mr. Smith, the mistress of the house being one of his acquaintance; that they were much nearer the court, and at a private house; and that they miight have a firjl » ‘ » floor there for only a guinea a week more % than they gave already : concluding her Speech with, the five following words — It « ft

, ♦ #

2o6 . It WELL WORTHWHILE—-emphatically delivered.. Fanny, who imagined that such a sh Situation wouldbe more agreeable to ^ Lumley, and make him ■ less ashamed of visiting hen, with his family, jumped at the thoughts of it; though she knew that the enlargement of her mother’s plan would be an additional proof, of her indiscretion. « ♦ I ‘ Mrs Sel by Said she would write ini mediately to Mr. Selby about her new scheme. / 1 L am Sure, “ replied Maria, if my father does not come into it, it will be very prejudicial to us.” ‘j i « In 4 1 ■ \ ‘• / ( • ■’ • . 207 f V In that cafe, my dear Mrs. Selby, “, ‘Said Smith, laughing, I can put yom into a much cheaper way. Tou shall take a Small house,. and I will be your lodger.” How! Mr.. Smith! “ answered she, drawing up her head –I let lodg ings I Surely you do not know who I am. People who keep their car to take in boarders and lodgers!”

#* ^, ■ C ■ ‘ i Aye, Madam –People who drive. with Sour horses, nay, with a Set, live in the Same house for conve nience, and eat, drink, and deep toi

gether, for the Sake of Society. Peo pie of the first fashion do this in London; and in Scotland, it is the, commonest thing in the world for Earla ! / \ 208” . Earls and Countdfes to lodge, and to let lodgings.” When he had ventured thus far, he looked significantly at Maria, and brushed off to give the famjly time to chew upon what he had Said: and indeed ‘his back was no Sooner turned than Mrs. Selby began to think that Since taking in Itxlgers and boarders was both como

mon among great people,, and genteel, she should gain both more respefl and acquaintance by being miftress of the .house, than by living in lodgings. She, accordingly, ‘altered the plan of her letter, and told Mr. Selby, that as lodgings were, she found, equally disagreeable and expensive, she had thoughts of taking a small house, adding, that she could Save considerably by So doing, aster the first money was laid out upon N I i , log upon it, as the furniture, See, See. pur i chased upon the occasion, would be all their own. * This letter (at the conclusion of which fuppues were earnestly desired) being dispatched, Mrs. Selby gave orders about making up the new striped silk which She had bought. 1 ✓ ‘When Mr. Smith returned in the evening, to learn the resuit of Ms proposal, Mrs. Selby informed him that he had obliged her vafily shy his scheme: : fly 0 liked it prodigiotify, and that she fhouid be glad if he would put her in a way to make some agreeable acquaintance, as people looked fo wild in London who had no body to speak to. M % Nothing 1 I f I 0 210 . Nothing more easy, “ replied he ^ only give cards with your tea and cof and I will engage you will have as pretty a fet of acquaintance in a * fortnight as any family in London.” I But one cannot expect people to come here, “ Said Mrs. Selby; and it may be a great while before I am fettled in my house.” / « ft That is true, “ answered he Why then, fuppose you go into the. lodg ‘‘ ings I showed you,, till yourhouse is. ready. The diningroom is large e . I believe, to hold four or five tables. You may move, into them tonight, and.shave a.rout; tomorrow.” Maria smile! her approbation, and told him that be was very expeditious, and « * I . 21 i I and that she liked expedition beyond all things, as she never had patience to j wait for what she wanted. i I t i Mrs. Selby went immediately to the house recommended to her, hired the lodgings. Sent in the family clothes, and invited Mr. Smith to Spend the evening with her. / ’! •: They played a little pool, to keep thdr hands in, • > A Charles Selby, not being fond of cards, made a visit to miss Cox. After Supper, over a bason of warm punch, which was absolutely necessary, Mr. Smith Said, as they had been So much fatigued, they planned a rout for the following week. In., % ^ m 2 12 , In consequence of a grand consultation, in which the propriety or impro . • priety of inviting Mrs. jefferson was strongly agitated, Mrs. Selby gave her casting vote against her, Sayingj she was Sure that Lady Lumley would never sit down to cards in the Same room with her –adding, with a conlequential air –I shall not think of any rout, without having her Ladyship present.” r f • ft ^ • ^ Smith, lifting up his eyes, and shrugging up his shoulders, then told her, that she must do as she pleased with regard to Mrs. jefferson I will go home, “ N continued he, order my fellow to write ^ Id about a dozen cards, and show them to you tomorrow, that you iiray see whom you have reason ta expect: and that you may be a little ac • with them,. I will, in a call upon * 0t . 213 upon them before the appointed day, *^ inform them who you are.” / Maria undertook to write a card to Lady Lumley, which should infallibly bring her. She accordingly Sat down, and addrefsej one to Berkiey square, This card occasioned a Small commotion in the baronet’s house. It was debated among the very elegant females « * there, whether they should condescend to honour Mrs. selby’s assembly with thek company, or not. At last, it was contduded, that though the Selbys were not fit to be acknowledged as the most distant acquaintance in London, yet, as they had, doubtless, argreat deal of money to lose, and there would, certainly, be a considerable fund for satire and ridicule, my Lady, notwithstanding an t a * 214 . engagement that night to the play, ft • _ and to the Pantheon, to Mufeiim with one party, and to brejlaws exhibition with another, determined to look in upon Mrs. Selby, and to stay a little, if any advantage was likely to be made by betting, cc. –A: least” “ her Ladyship, the unpolished wretches will furnish us with Something to laugh at, while we are driving from one place to another.” In consequence of this determination, i Lady Lumley returned a verbal message –She will endeavour to call on * Mrs. Selby sometime in the even ing, though she has a great number of engagements.” . <0 This civil message gave new spirits to the whole selby family, and they talked of 2, nothing O ft i. X I . 215 nothing but Lady lumley’s person’ ‘ lumley’s rank. Lady lumley’s f fortune, and Lady lumley’s behaviour. While they were So elevated by her ladyship’s message. Smith camie in, with a paper of cards in his hand. J’ • \ Here, Madam, “ Said he, I have 9 wrote to every agreeable .creature of my acquaintance: –Mrs. selby’s and Mr. smith’s compliments, cc. - –Here –run them over before John j carries them out.” He then, put the, cards into her hands. When Mrs. Selby Saw alist of Baronets, Ladies, Colonels, Captains, cc. she felt herself elated at the prospedt of So brilliant and numerous an assembly, and was, indeed, almost out of her wits. — Her % / 2i6 ; # I tier daughters too were quite transported upon the animating occasion; and, they all declared that London was the only place: that they had never known’ what life was before; and that one finole day in bond street (there they lodged) was worth whole years at the farm. The time between their Sending out their cards, and the anxioussy expected day of days, they Spent in hurrying their sacque maker, and consulting what caps and ribbons best became their complexions. On the evening before that from which Mrs. Selby hoped to receive some of /efi p in her new apartments, a very unwelcome letter came from her husband: for he peremptorily assured her he by no means approved her / \ \ I . 217 ft her taking a house: nay, he objected strongly to her staying above a fortnight longer in London, and exprdled the greatest surprise at his fon’s not returning to him, as he had desired him to fet out to the farm directly. This letter was the most disconcerting one imaginable: but Mrs. Selby was, alone, distressed by it, as stie was fearful of his not remitting to her mioney sufficient for her very urgent demands: demands which would, probably, require more than he could spare. However, upon her mentioning her anxiety upon that account. Smith told her she might make herself perfectly easy—-Mr, Selby is known to be a man of fortune, Madarn, there are people enough who will readily furnish you with any sums you want.”

vol. I. L This # I I

This answer gave satisfaction; bstf it was not farisfaftary to her fom \ 9 ■ ‘ Charles was now fo much attached to miss Cox, that he could not hear of quitting London without ‘the greatest ft disquiet. « ♦.’ Mrs. Selby, plainly perceiving his imeafiness, sold him that fly thought he \ had better write to his father, and desire him to let him stay, a little longer, that they might all return together. By ■> this flrvee fly hoped to make Mr. Selby believe that She really intended to stay only a Short time where she was, and to keep her Son from telling tales : for ns he was less fond of cards than herself nnd the girls, she was afraid of his being drawn out, by his father, to relate things ‘\ « • • / I ft V I

things with which She wished not to have him acquainted. » Charles soon came into his mother’s measures, which, till he was entangled ill a tender passion, he had never ap’ ‘, % Mrs. Selby, show thinking that every. ‘thing went on fwimmingly, as she called it, began to prepare for her company with the greatest alacrity. She dressed herself and her two daughters in the new flight silks ffie bad purchafecl, and made up exactly like Lady lumley’s. / f When the company arrived, Mr. Smith presented every Lady to her by her name, and she Set them down to play, in the manner he had directed her. i f ft ‘ L 2 About * t ^ * 220 . . i About half an hour past eight, a very doud rap made the Selbys Start frorfi their chairs. To their extreme joy, all she Lumleyfamily. Sir Thomas excepted. ‘entered she room. _ 4 ^ •,, ‘ ^ However, thoiigh the Baronet had not done her the ho mour she had wished for, she had, by this family appearance, an opporruiiity ♦ ‘ ti of hoping that Sir Thomas was well, and ^ ty. ‘of saying that fie fiould have been vafily ■glad to have seen Sir Lhonyag with her ^ • * ‘ M. ^04. * y … X 9 ^. m ayj/jtp, ^ A 4

*. ‘f

^ % y ft ^ ^ I ft Scarcely had she got her comjiliments “’ *■ . :;. j : f ■ out of her mouth, when she pteceived, to her excessive mortification, that Lady Lumley, who had lb very warnily defended the wearing of flight silks nff winter, a few nights before, was then dressed in ■nothing less substantial than a’white velvet with scarlet spots, and that the two .1 young i

ft ft ft , 2 2t •. f ‘ • -

/ « young Ladies had on the richest ftripedl tabbies which could be purchased. ., immediately to her daugh ^ ‘ b ‘ ‘S’ ters, She Said to them, Sorcibly enough with her looks,. We are ail. in the wrong, “. 0. 4 Lady Lumley and daughters exchanged, at the Same time. Sneers of triumph. Her Ladyship, as Soon as. ■ 4. i those Sneers had been exchanged, catching hold of the rufflle of Mrs. Selby’s’ . ♦ facque, cried — .Dlefs me, Mrs. Selby,. ‘. ft hoy thinly you are clothed this^cold night! It makes one almost shiver to 4 look at you. Why surely you. did
1. ’ not buy that silk for the winter could be more absurd: it would be very well for the middle of June.” ‘ : L 3 This i 4 ftft « / f

This very free address, before a room full of straiigers, added to the tiiortifi’

- ’ ‘ ■ ■ d ‘ f”|j’, ‘% i’ ‘ ■’ cation she had received by feeling herself quite in the wrong, with regard to her dress, by endeavouring. to imitate’ the ‘ ’ 4 st V “T person who now’’ So Tcstidly condttshnea A ^ \ her, hurt Mrs. sejby/exceedingly. She coloured up to the eyes, and Sakl, in the civileff manner Ihe costld – though ’4 i - A J.’ .’ ‘, f A i ■ “ •’ SI *’ ‘ 0 ’ A - “ ■ ‘ it was plain she kept in her rfsentment wkh the greatest’’ dishciilty that shb shas unte ^ folio^et ho ■. C ri 1; ■ • ■ fd,, __ 1.. ‘ … ……. J V ample… st ft Oh! dear!” replied her Ladyship, ‘. 4, ‘ ‘ i ‘ ‘ ‘ * * •* I can never be a pattern formrhbel « by –People in Such chferent’ ranks’ In life should not think of imttd.tidnvai becomes them So very ill, and they ‘*•’ ‘ ‘.st S ■’ C C. ■ •.. i ‘■ ■ \ \ ■ : > I. • always appear To ‘Awkward, ‘ arid ex ^ ‘ * ‘ “ ‘ ‘, “ ‘ . pose thernselves fo fidiciil6usty, ^’ tnat IV V V one \ \ ^ . 22=3 • i. ‘ ‘ f I I one carmot help Smiling at them, tho’ they happen to be our dearest friends. –I really don’t know any people more foolish than those who, V ith Small, or no fortunes, are continually ** aping their: Superiors.” Mrs. Selby could hardly contain her. . ‘ ‘ • self. Nothing but the fespeft with which the rest of the company treated the Lumleys, and the little pride of having people ‘ i 1 f ‘ • ‘ f ibeir rank to visit her, kept her within bounds. She drew up several times:
but Lady Lumley had always fomethihg • to shy to mortify her, Mrs. Selby indeed fek thcagttfequence of the baronet’s , •• • i Lady So much, that it was scarce fug portable, ft. Lady Lumley, at lengthy growing very lucky, became quite good humour L 4 ed,, 1 I

224 , ‘ed, and condescending to everybody : She was even chatty with people whom she really knew nothing of; whom she had hardly deigned to speak to before : but there is a charm in pocketing the money of other people, which reconciles us wonderfully to all sorts of charadbers : this is the charm which secures the most abandoned people a favourable reception in the politest allemblies. Lady Lumley, setting aside the fatif fadlion shef’received from her winnings,, was not’ at all displeased with the attentions of Mr. Smith to her, who, thinking her a fine woman, took some pains to lef her see what he thought of her. Upon the whole, therefore, the evening passed off pleasantly enough. Her Ladyship certaistly’found herself quite easy in her’fituatlons shs she (laid a great deal longer % I 9 –• 4 * t The Journey, TO London. 225 longer than she first intended, : to the no \ small dshght of .her fon, who, not choosing cards,, sat chatting with the girls –Tom with fanny,. George with Maria, and some of the other females whorn Shiith had introduced, and who -, strove to engage his. attention.. Ir * Lady Lumley,. on • her taking, leave, very obligingly told Mrs.. Selby, that she expected to see her and her: daughters in berkleyrsquare. The miss lum leys, finding their mother, in So civil .a Tuimour,, followed, her example : they meant, indeed,. as little, by what they said as she did;, but their, united civili – ties, threw she selby farpily into very, fiigh spirits ■ - . ‘ * - ‘.. . -. -; ….. ^. <. ^ ■€ i. * When they were gone, „ Mrs.. Selby’ ■’ ^ * ^.. .* _ r ■ ^ • k” • took care to tell her new acquaintance,. 9 ♦ m - ^ ‘t I •

that Lady’ Lumley was her near neighbour in the country.. Sir thoihavs t estate joined to Mr. selby’s, and that they were vastly intimate when down in VN’ —-shire together ** \ ‘‘•, * - ‘st ■. • r ‘ . • This information raised i>er exceedingly in the eyes of her company, and they congratulated her on having such very agreeable, as well as genteel neighbours. ‘; V ^. ‘’ b d - ‘ - b • ■ * ‘ “ ■ - ‘ northeast -■ A / – - V • “Jiist before they left cardsf plays pened To be mentioned; a very capitdl perforrnance being given out for “the next night, Mrs. Selby expressed a great desire to see it. • J t * .. VJ Several of the company, having secured a box, told her there would be

room for her and the Miss selby.s. > { ‘’; , NT ■ ■ - This ✓ / w • .r22.y’ This intelligence transported them all, and they parted in the most perfect: harmony with each other.. y I The next morning,, when Mrs. Selby had just finished her breakfast, the servant opened the door[she had hiredi ‘\ a maicl fervant, though Smith had lent her a footman to waif at her rout–— # in bounced Mrs. jefferson.. ^ > ■< 0 I See you are Surprised,. Ladies’ Said stie ‘; and I believe I am neither » an expecsted nor a desired viiker;, but sh thoiigh you have used me.extremely icjill, Mrs. shclby, I have too much re for your family, to let you and your children be absolutely ruined, • ^ without acquaintiiig you with your danger. You would not. invite me to «■ your rout lash night; and; ‘, indeed .fif : V / V you 0 *% I 228 The journ ev. to London.

• • ‘‘ you Ead, I could not have come; ‘ for I. should have been. excessively to have shevyn my face there,, ft I can? affure you i” ft… ^ •, ^ ■ Dear heart !” ‘ replied mrs.rselby, should you fo? some : people: are more nice than cwife.. ‘But really I should have imagined that where l^dy Lumley thought > proper to appear, Mrs. Jefferson might at.any time vent

^ • ysttiire toshe seen

■ -.. 4 ■. -?«. Perhaps,. Madam, i Lady Lumley •• * shay be more used to the company of w –es and sharpers, than i am, “ said; ; Jefferson.. cs ‘. ‘** i - . ■; ■ * - ‘ t ‘ 4.: ‘’ : * p ^st^rir • Ip ■ ‘ = •, ■ - ^ - Here Mrs. Sel by ’s blood rushed. into her face : she could not tamely hear the
» i.; W r very genteelest of all her acquaintance, her /

her dearest friends –as she; at that moment, called the Lumleys –fo abused : she, therefore, told Mrs. jefferson, that ■whatever company she had, they were vastly too good for her, besides, “ continued’ she, I am very sure that you do; not know anything at all about them : and So I desire you whl not offer to affront me, by mentiorr ‘‘ ing my friends in Such a Scandalous manner.” . r ‘ r ’ •. • X 4 Your friends –answered Mrs. jefferson, repeating the word firongly r p You will not, I fancy, find them your friends, but the greatest enemies you have in the world. However, I have done my duty –I have told cyou of. your danger –If you will not see it, you must take the confe y quences. ^ I am Jure I have proved ‘‘ myself * i \ /

myself the best friend you have iri I the world, though I am now turned off to make way for your flirts of - \ quality: yet, though they may be looked upon by ignorant people who know nothing of the world, they are ^ a pared of shabbyv gaod for nothing tawdry creatures, who cut a Haunting figure with other folks money.” ‘■ ^ ‘• ■ }. s. ^. Here Mrs. Jefferson continued to I give Such a toose to her tongue, that •mrs. Selby became quite outrageous,, and made very Spirited replies to her 0 in language nearly fimilaf.. Im short, they both talked So fast,; that they could Scarce hear, what each other Said,. ‘;; d * …. ‘, ‘• 4 ‘■

Mrsi Selby, at length, thinlshng herself lunpardonably insulted,, exerted .all the voice she, had left, and insisted upom ‘w L ■ « ft /* 1 f },

I The jourimey to London. 2 Mrs.’ jefferson’s quitting, her apart riients directly you do not leave the rootii, ini mediately, Ma « you will’ ‘oblige ■ me to show you‘thb’door.” ‘’’ /^’’r, nd As O ‘ :. V’ ‘jefferson, enraged at Seeing herself treated with So much ingratitude, as she called it, gave. Mrs Selby a very Sarcastical look, and declaring, at the ■fanic time, that she was no match for her, took her leave, without wakii^g far ‘an answer. t ‘T ^ …… ‘N As Soon as she was gone, all the Selby s proceeded to a consultation upoir what they stiould put on, in order to fit: in the boxes, as they should make their flrsi appearanees. Every part of’j their y wardrobe was turned over and over; but • t’ ‘they cobid not find anything glitter: •: ‘

Ing enough for the occasion they fab lied out, to purchase a few more bril % bawbles as jinijhers. i f In a short time after they were dressed, and had hastily Swallowed a little dinner, Smith came to call them in ‘a coach, ‘ agreeably to his promise; to conduct them to their N - { ‘ ^

. ‘•* i They were receivedshy their new carsh •aequaintance with much politeness, anfl they were greatly elated at having lb fine an opportunity to exhibit them 0 ‘selves m thc jide hoxes:, vc, theyshadi Teard,. ytqyc iht genteekfi places., rt - J • « As they’ were quite new objecls, and,, dressed in a manner Sufficient to draw . \ ■ ‘ ’ • ‘; \ 4 V ; the eyes, of the. whole house towards A - p •them, most of the glafjes were levelled at V • * i i \ . 233 1 t ’ b at fheshcandstheyfat, regardless of the gerfehalflare, snith. as much composure! ! ‘if they had been accustomed to appear every court day in the circle. V I ^ ^ - 4,. f. To conipleat their felicity, they heard Lady lumley’s servants called, and in a few moments afterwards saw; her Laefy Ship enter, followed by another Lady, and the two miss.dumleys. The sel bys then thought themselves nncom i monly fortunate; their features were ♦ y still tiibre brightened thansthey were bo’ ‘ their eyes were ready to dance oiit’ of their heads at the sight of their mofi:
9 intmate friends, and the most obliging smiles played about their mouths, while they, leaning forward, ’ curtefied to her ladyship, in the most awkward and dffared manner imaginable.
- A • •’! - .1 V » ^ ^ V «. • ‘. .if’

4 Lady # 0 I I

9 . Lady Lumley having, at an accidental glance, perceived them all pushing themselves forward, with their familiar faces., to be noticed by her, instantly drew up her head, with an air of the utmost lelffimportance, and ineffable contempt. b.dhen, taking up her hoop, she flirted it over that fide of the box next them, and turned her back full upon them. ‘ H ♦ I The miss Lumleys, observing their mother’s motions, followed her example precisely. By these aflfonting proceedings, the poor Selbys were inexpressibly morti \ fled. They were, indeed, thrown into a consternation, by them not to be‘ de / they coloured like fire; ‘and hung their heads, quite ashamed to be So / / r • y t / % ‘. 235’ So ptiblickly insulced. To increase; their confusion, the Lady who accorn ^ panied Lady Lumley happened to have seen Mrs. Selby in a milliner’s shop, by accident’; and having also heard that ‘ Lady Lumley had been at her rout xkc night before, she Said to her –I thought your Ladyship knew Mrs. Selby.” i V * ■ ■ ^ ^. ■ ■ - * Oh –no, “ –replied she : I never know such people anywhere but at home; “ –and continued to negle<st; them during the rest of the evening. Lady lumley’s behaviour to Mrs. Selby occasioned a great dealof whispering among her companions, and she was herself additionally chagrined, as - well as her daughters, to see, upon their looking down into the pit, not knowing • in.avhat direction to throw their embarrassed

I I j 9 \ t \ I st 236 . i ( ‘raffed eyes, Mrs. Jefferson immediately under them. I f. If ^ Mrs. Jefferson, without’ paying ariy regard to their superior situation, stared at them, with her broad, vulgar face, exposed full to view,. unshaded by hat or bonnet, and exclaimed –So, fo — I thought what you would alt .come ^ to: this is keeping cbmpahy” with demi reps: you see your fine quality won’t know you.” I This free speech was accompanied with a loud laugh, in which she was joined by her party, . •

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n ^ ♦ I ^ % / m / N ^ » • I •« «• ccoo ‘if •v”t: st : s y ‘^’^**^ ¥’ •’¥ ft;, I . f ft % H E poor Selbys, now be’ ‘ T w yond description disconcerted, )toii&li.d wished, for the, first time, they had not gone to the play ijoat night. Had not Smith exerted himself to give thenn some relief, they would hardly have been able to recover themselves. He, Seeing how things went, whispered a few fine speeches to them of the flattering kind, a, nd calculated to make them impute the affronts they volc II B had .» I k 1 4 9 / % 2 . Lad .received to the envy and jealoiify they had excited. Speeches of this sort ft tare generally successful; and the Selbys at last, by degrees, acquired confidence enough to .stand up, and nose even her Ladyship,, i. aiid with Such intrepidity •. ‘ft • i ^ ’ft .too, that she dartei not once to turn her head towards the.tr box, ‘ for fear of re / insults equal to those which she shad given. … ■.. - • ‘ ^ r * By this unexpeiffed .effrontdrk of the .”Selbys, and by the great attention of .the men to the box which she fo much ‘.despised, Lady Lumley began to .think they were not fo contemptible as she .had imagined them to be.; yet she was .doubly enraged against them : she was envious, she was jealous; and would cer « V * “tainiy have returned home much better j pleased, ft ^

pleased, had she not Seen the Selbys fo * greatly admired. \ ft 0 ‘While the females belonging to the two abovementioned families were make ft ing each other uneasy, Charles Selby spent a delightful evening with Miss, , • who appeared as eager to com. . < his felicity, as he was himself to have it completed : but that stern enemy to the tendered desires of enraptured lovers, chastity, kept her from gratifying those of her present infatuated admirer. She freely confessed that her passion for him was full as warm as his was for her; but declined the gratification of it, she told him, because llie • » \ could not bear the thoughts of lowering O O herself in the esteem of the man whom she muff ever prefer to all the world. B 2 This I

l URNEY TO This V force him to niake a!’ proposal of mif riage to her. He told her, in atirwer, that ♦ - *4^ ^ he should have long ago shade an offer of his hand to her, shad’, lie not sheen de V ‘ -,,,.. ‘? **- K pendent on His Father, shad he sheen in any way to provide for shi st - -. “ it ‘ 4’ A d

■ A

* *f ‘■/W She replied, glowing that she wroriged her extremely, if ihe imagined she had views. J am not, “ con any tinued she, fo situated as to be

( t’”’ i i

prompted to marry merely for money, I .expecst Something very hand jy Some at my cousin’s death, though I can Spare me •’‘ .nothing •” or, ^* ■,. in her life tishe.; arid am ready to wait years for you) as I can. .never think of any other man, even with millions at his command. Yet, “ ft added I I

added she: with a still deeper colour in her cheeks, how, can I bear to see you 4v • st,, ^ ^ ^ ■ unhappy, and pining, day after day, and, poffibiy, for years together, for V what I must be obliged to deny you? i • Ni i i ‘■ st -. ^ ^ ** Mr. Selby, “ continued she,

’ ‘ ‘ .1 southeast A \ * X letting fall a few tears on his shoulder, while she hung on him, this pains me exceedingly; and yet I would sooner die than be an infamous creature fc. •.,. _.. ■ You are dearer to roe than my self, but, my virtue is dearer to me. than my r life.”.
A \ ■ - ’ II A . 4 My excellent girl, “ replied Selby, –believing every syllable she uttered –^ ‘ 4. : ■ ■ ■ ‘ make yourself easy –we niust wait; I will endeavour to arm my self with patience.’*

Yes, “ said she, rather in a peevish tone –but we cannot have patience for ever. The. greatest patience may 4 • be worn out in time. For my part, ‘‘ I never had any patience in my life, “ Nshile she was delivering the few last Words, she rose, and went to the farthest part of the room. There .she sat, jogging one foot over the other, with the strongest marks of difeontent: at the Same 0 tirne, however, she carelessly contrived to let her leg –by no means an ugly one — be seen almost as high as her garter; while her neck, which was very white, and had been more than half concealed by a handkerchief wrapped across her bosom, was entirely exposed to view by the removal of that handkerchief. to wipe her eyes. Thus was she at once rendered a striking ob^edt of temptation to * % « 0 * t % The jotjrnew to. London. j f lo poor Selby, ‘ whtr igazed, ardently gazed, at beauties which, not having 9 been prepared to’ See, he was not prepared to re Si sh However, as he was afraid ro uust himself, he thought it Safer to call her to Mm, than to venture to go to while she remained in fo inviting an attitude: fie, on the other, hand, well knowing what she was about, chose to stay where she was, though htj entreated her to come to him in the soft. . * accents. . i % Charles, finding, at last, that his mistress affected to pay no regard to him,, could hold out no longer. Advancing to her, he threw his arms about her, and, allured by the beauties of her bosom, bared, as if by accident, was going to fix his lips there. She then started from her Seat, and Screamed out B 4 Qood ■. ■ ‘ ’ r ■ ^ v • ‘ ‘ ‘ ( -. ■ r, < I.., - 1 ^ .A. ^ ■ A \ .ft ‘ 8 . ■ h –Good God! Mr. Selby, let me go let me go –I am undone. –How’’ ‘’ you to take such a liberty? How, indeed, dare I, thoughtless ! to trust myself wkh a man LT, r I”’ ‘ t ’ V D •* * ‘ who pretends to love me, and yet . • …,., L iriryr Will not marry me r “ … “. ^.; i ‘’ ■>» ‘ •, i t » * * I. J / ‘ ’ FA. i. kr ■■ ■ r - ‘’ ‘st., ‘. * » ^. i •, •. > ^ ‘ st • st ‘ 4 Do not Say, Will hot, my, dearest ** Sally, “ replied the enanioiired Selby j ‘ft beaten is shywitiiess sh this ** moment, ready to’ shake you shiiie for •ft ever by the most’ facted ties : scut as ^ V ft ^ ^ I have nothing, as I told you before, to offer, and as you have declared you have expeffations, mould I not aft a ■ merceriary part, by defirihg ‘• * you to bestow yourself on me?” . : V ^ Yes.~eut though you think you ‘ J fhouid ad a mercenary part by friar’ ‘ t 4 ^ V 4 I . 9 . A. ..■•** ^ ‘ i ‘■ ..’r ‘>. ■ ‘ rying me; you can be Such a liber • •>; * - e ■ ■, **, tine as to atteimpt to ruin me. Is ■. i i, ■ J - ‘ % this a generous, way of ailing, Mr. Selby?” ‘ • ^ ‘ \ ft, My dear creature, “ Said Selby, Sitting down by her, and presting her t hand, indeed you wrong me. I meant only to seize one tender kiss. Who could Support the Sight of So many tempting beauties, without endeayour ing CO avail himsels of his Situation, and to Snatch a few innocent endearments?”, ‘‘nip’’ ■ “ . • s * _ ft ‘/ Aye” –replied she—-on him –looking on him with a languishing air; I thought how it would be; I know 1 shall never be Safe, if I do not put it out of your power to injure me.” 0 B 5 « Well \

! r 4 lo . Well then –I will, L will, my dear » girl (kiffmg her eagerly) I will write to my father direduy, and ask his consent to your father, Mr. Selby?” exclaimed She, starting from his arms; i, r..? am 1 to wait the uncertfinty of your father’s consent, and So be, most pro * ‘‘ cast off at last? Is this your love for me Oh! why was I ever born continued She, bursting into tears, and wringing her hands –why did I fix my affections upon a man, * who either never loved me, or else loves me no longer I Oh! how have I been deceived !” Not at all, my Sally –I have northeast ver deceived you. I love you with an inexpressible fondness: but Surely you , ’ .cannot * 0 \ t % , II cannot be offended at my informing my father –A good fon,., Sally, is V most likely to make a good husband be fo, “ answered she. Sullenly; but if your father refuses his con you will make no husband at all to me’, and then what shall I get by your goodness } You will not be good to me –you will be the worst pf men 4 if you leave me now, after having gained my heart, and made me be / ** that you love me” –(fobbing.) I have told you nothing but what is flriduy true, “ said he –I dote on you; but, in order to be worthy of the love I stgh for in return, I must be a dutiful fon to the best of fathers. I will write to him immediately; I will solicit his consent, and I doubt B 6 not • i V I V V 12 . not but I shall obtain it. The mo. .. • - ‘‘ Di consent arrives, I shall she ready to make you mine for ever.” I Replies of this, kind were the only /. •, ‘ • *., • T ones which miss Cox could draw from V • ‘ •; I C • ‘st: - ‘ her lover, to every, things she, yrged in favour of a hasty marriage, : a marriage .■. ‘1 A ‘ - into which he appeared determined not to enter., ^ … * f H. h , ‘ i •. st • # I • ‘ ‘ . ‘ ‘ ■ ‘ ‘ ft ■ ‘ J * ’ ‘, ‘ Charles, when he left miss Cox, went horn and wrote solis father upon the Subject which employed all his thoughts. “i, - ‘ X.., * the pen of ari mamorato he desctibr ■ ft ‘ J.. *. * ■ ^ ■ her personal and intellectual charms, and did not forget to add, that she was iri a very eligible style of life \yith her. cousin, who, in a genteel house, kept a maid servaiit, and a footman, and Seemr. ed to be in roomy circumstances. –He closed

closed his letter of solicitation with the flrongest: hints about Miss cox’s expefla tions, % While Charles Selby was writing to his father, shis mother and Sisters were endeavouring to digest: the affronts which they could riot help Swallowing at the playhouse: : they were much ashst ed by Smith, who had taken a great deal of pains to persuade them not to make themselves uneasy about Lady lumley’s behaviour: telling them,; that they were the favourites of the men; that while they attracted their aittniion, they had no reason to regard what the , I’ woirien said or did; as their jealousy Would always incline them to aff^dl a

» ‘ _. contempt which they were far from rcv ling.” ft
- - • *. • ‘’ ^ i Smith \ ft ft 14 . / Smith talked to them all in this strain; he addressed himself in this train particularly to Maria, with whom he was now on the footing of a lover, in consequence of having told her how charming She was, and permitted to take as many liberties, as if he had been upon the point of marriage with her. f ‘ / ‘ f ‘ ■ ■. Maria, though her lover was continually talking against the only situation which could justify the liberties he took with her, was not alarmed; nor was she afraid of trusting herself with him who frequently declared he thought that the I woman who consented to be mistress to the 0 4 man she loved, was a much greater character than her who married a man merely because. he could place her in a Sphere to which she had no pretenstons. –Such a marriage, he affirmed, was downright \ prosti y # s V . 15 prostitution, in the true sense of the word. ^ * •• • • This was dangerous doctrine to be preached to a young girl who was fo very ready, that she hardly wanted the / quefiion to ht afkcdri ■; > te ^ . : “ ■’ - ^ miss Selby had, indeed, heard better doctrine From her father and mother; had been Sufficiently informed by them, how necessary it was for her to ^ 0 preserve her person from violation, her / chara<5ler unblemiffied : but when ffie •ft became acquainted with the lumley fa mily, she heard that severe viraie, which ffie had been taught to think laudable, laughed at and ridiculed, if not, perhaps, in direct terms, in Such a manner as to lessen the regard which every modest woman ought to have 9 JI0 • ^ % i6, . have for her character. It is true,, In ^ ^ - V ‘ r I ^; deed, that neither Lady Lumley nor her daughters, nor Sir Thomas and his fon » C * * ever spoke in praise of infamous women, nor did they openly give them the pre i I “ ‘ ference : but then they never, on their being mentioned, ever fppke slightingly of them, as people whose society was to be avoided, –When they heard any fcandalons anecdotes about them, they smiled, or appeared with an air of indif \ ference, as if their deviations from the straight line of rectitude were, of very Isttie consequence. V ‘ ‘ ‘ . Maria, looking upon the Lumleys as p * e _ the best bred people in the world. Soon began tq consider them as examples; and,,, being strongly warped by their
    
    i i t - free conversations, she believed the more ^ - ft’ ‘.. what Smith told her. –He made no . V \ * . 17 .., rf no direct overtures to her, indeed; ho wished to see her incapable of refusing him. She, on the other hand, imagining that he was’ very much in love with her, and would Soon take an op portunity to offer her proposals, which she might accept of with honour, ‘ only laughed at hh effusions about women, af she found the chit-chat of almost: all ■with whbni she cohvcrfed was in a similar strain’ ‘ ^ . /.; !■ ‘ *- ■ ■ ^ ‘ st; * ‘ ^ ■’V rff V ’ ■ –^ • r ^ - ■- ^ > ria ■ r j - SA A’ y * A % ‘Fanhy Selby was pretty much in the Same Situation with Lumley, with this’ difference; she was apparently less yola die than Smith; and, as she had been intimate ‘with his whole family, she thought he would, on no account, presume to behave improperly to her. –Poor Fanny knew very little of the world, though she had Seen more of it V * • m I st \

« # ft /• • ft 18 The Journey fo lonoom m one week, firice her arrival in London, than she would have seen ih two years in the country, Lumley was, iri truth, become a constant visiter at their new apartments; and as his frequent interviews ihcreafed her affcaion tor him, y she was never pleased when he missed any opportunity of feeing her, of feeing her alone. In those interviews they botsh indulged. themselves in giving a loose to their tender sensations, Fanny, tod V much Softened by her lover’s impassioned behavioifr, grew unable, in a very short time, to refuse him –‘what she conss* 4 dered as –an innocent return. When st womastgoes sofar, she will not find it an easy shatter to stop herself from going farther’, from passing the bounds ff prudence; never to be passed with. Safety. ‘< s *. • ‘ ■ •« *1 ’ ….. « ■ ‘ There f 0 \

• . 19 There is some apology, however, to be made for the conduct of Fanny upon this occasion: she really was fond of Lumley, and had no reason to believe that he did not love her. She was cer tainly biameabk in yielding at all; but as she gave up her person merely from a sincere desire of obliging the man she loved, and not from any interested motives, she could not be pronounced absolutely a though not, in the ftricstest sense of the word, a virtuous girl. Pleased as she was with being dressed and admired; pleased with living’among people of fashion, and .doing as they did, Fanny would not, on any account, have consented to become the mist ress of the man whomshe f could not love. Much happier would she have been, had her bosom been free ^ / ‘ from constidt in consequence of her con dut, A * / ‘ \ t i I : \ « I ^ t ao The Journey jp London
- du(5l:. Frequently, when Lurnley took leave of her, the refledlions which rose ‘^ I in her mind were very painful; they ». * * / made her condemn herself Severely, for i giving way to a passion which called for more indulgence, she .more it was gratified. Her refiestions, however, only tormented her in her.lover^s absence { they were forgotten. The sincerity of her love rendered her
’, ft ^ still more, desirous of obliging him; but I’ ‘ .•. - V. she hash every time they met, new real ion to reproach herself for her sacrifices to aifcdfion. ^ While these two lovers were thus I • tenderly engaged, every kind of restraint i j ‘ “ ^ ^ I was gradually thrown aside. II ^ ^ * \ ) V ‘ .1 - ‘ * 9. ¥ L ‘f I L N. ‘ “J y -_ • I In an unguarded hour, one evening,
- ■ ■ ‘ when the rest of the family were gone i to r t k j 1 y 0 9 . 21 ft tor play at the house of one of Mr. smish’s friends, Fanny fuifered the idol of her heart to gain a complete triumph over her. Poor Fanny, as soon as She was Sensible of her iituatiori, felt all the hor ror of it. She had been virtuously educated : she had not, naturally, any bad dispositions. When she found, there fore, that it was no longer in her power ic’ ■ ^ to boast of her chastity, to be Satisfied with herself for having parted with it, burst: into a flood of tears, accompanied with the most; cutting reproaches. ‘’ ‘ V ft. . tears, those reproaches. Swiftly Succeeding the raptures he had enjoyedj • ■ ■ ‘ T t made her lover, at first, almost repent of having taken advantage of her weak ness, as he really loved her, though he could not be prevailed lipon to marry ft any i X / A \ \, \ -■»*’ #». • 22. . any woman, merely on account, of her personal beauties. Sorry to See her disturbed at what had given him So much pleasure, he strove, immediately, to administer a consolation to her, and advanced a great number of arguments in favour of the accident that had happened; as many examples did he urge, to prove that there was nothing particular in Nr behaviour, except the extreme delicacy of it, in which, he said, he adored her; adding, that no woman of fashion, either single or married, was in the least Scrupulous about indulging herself, when she met with a favourite lover; that if the man indulged was a man of probity, and if the affair was managed with address, there was nothing in it; and that he hoped she did not doiibt either his honour or his love. He concluded with assuring her, that his tt / _ • . 23 Ms purse and person should be always at her command, and declared, in short, i that he would do everything to malce iier easy, but marry her; as he was de itermined not to part with his liberty., but upon the most advantageous terms \ ^, and to vrear only golden chains, should • *¥ she be obliged to wear any chains. st
- ‘ this, resplute and decisive Speech, Lumley undid all that he had been try / to do : it threw poor Fanny into Such a’ fit of despair, that it was with the greatest dishculty he could keep her from falling fenselefs at his feet., even felt exceedingly for the distress he 0 had occasioned; yet he thought, at the Same time, it was better to have the worst over at once, that there might be no after reckoning. When she knew r « what she had to expect, fly would, fie imagined, / f \ 24 . t imagined, make the most of it; he therefore employed every Soothing art he was master of, to calm her mind; and discovered, in his every look, in all his accents, the tenderest Solicitude on her account. By his tender endeavours he, at last. Softened her heart to Such a degree, that she Soon became more ready to renew her indiscretions, than to quarrel with him for obliging her to commit them. • When he had left her –when the mortifying resteftions which had been for sometime banished, returned, and with double violence –she again lamented tt : her fall, with the bitterest expressions: she felt herself totally deprived of all her tranquillity. She resolved, however, to conceal her feelings, and to affect a Serenity in her behaviour, at all events, ■ ‘. as . as she had not given up all hopes of being able, one day, to prevail on her lover to marry her, though he was then So averse to iriatrimony: and, indeed, his extreme fondness of her, after an incident which frequently cures a man of his affection for the woman Seduced by him, induced her strongly to imagine that she might, by a gentle, complying carriage, bring him to consent to make all the reparation in his power for the loss of her honour: Supposing that, by marrying him, she should be as good as ever. –Into this error many females are apt to Aide; and too easily console themselves for the loss of what they ought to think irreparable. The preservation \ a character unsullied, not the patching if up, when a flaw has been made in it, should be every woman’s principal concern. vol. II C Poor \ . Poor Fanny, disc mow taught .to be artful, endeavoured to put the best face she could upon the matter, and to appear tolerably composed when the family came; home; though her mind was tortured by recoueflion^ in a manner not to be described. Her eyes were red with weeping; but her mother and Sister were too much taken up with their own affairs to attend to her. Mrs. Selby, indeed, was more alert than she had been ever Since her marriage.

It has been already Said that Mrs. Selby was a fine showy woman. From the moment of her arrival in London, ^ file employed the greatest part of her time in hurrying from one place of di version to another, and was up early and .late in the pursuit of pleasure; yet, as she \ . 27 she had not followed that life long, she had not impaired her constitution, nor destroyed the bloom of her complexion. She was also, naturally, of a lively temper, and her vivacity gave a brightness to her eyes, a brilliancy to her whole appearance, which made her a desirable object. She had been much taken notice of, on the abovementioned even V » ing, by an officer, who played at the table to which she was sat down; and , i 4 she encouraged him not a little by giving herself flirting airs; airs hardly excusable in her daughters. It was not, however, her person alone that induced Captain Dermot to be particularly attentive to her : he had made an inquiry about her, and Smith had communicated to him the following information –that she had left her husband, to come ‘ to See London, and to live like other ft ^ 2 folks; 9 4

► folks; and that Selby had a pretty restate in 0 0 shire. t ‘ * Mrs came to enjoy herself like other genteel people, he fnight, shfe hei purse .and person as well as another man, behaved to her in; the most.flattering manner ima # ; and, int consequence of Such a behaviour, she .returned home in .very high Spirits..

- »• #» t. 4 >

Maria attached to Smith, merely for want of I another man, was no less pleased with hts douceurs, than her mother, that even ing, shad been >vith .dermot’s.

■» •• The mother and daughter both ran upstairs, finging.the Same air ‘ ‘ Lovely nymph, assuage my anguish; “ which • » • their

I \ . 29’ their admirers Had repeatedly addressed to them, during the course of the evening; and k was, consequently, fresti im their memories. % ■ ‘ When they entered the diningroom - • ^ ‘ * ■* * in which they found Fanny, leaning her head upon her hand, and turning over the lass: new novel, as if ssie was reading it, though (he saw nothing but Thomas Lumley in every line, Mrs. Selby called out — Has anybody been here I 4 No; “ answered Fanny, with a half fuppressed ssgh. The maid, not being acquainted’ with her reasons for the answer she had given, added –No body but Mr. Lumley, ‘ Madam.” C 3 Oht V tt 9 . 30 . ‘Oh! he has not forgot us then –He is not quite So high as the rest of his insolent family : but let them go; it is no matter very pos fibly I may forget them hy and by, in my turn : though I shall always remember one piece of Service they ‘‘ have done me: had it not been for them, ‘ I do not believe I ever should ‘‘ have Seen this dear town.” Fanny made no reply, but Secretly wished that she had never left the farm, but to be married to lewson. / She, at the Same time. Sighed at the comparison between him and Lumley; yet she would have freely given her V life to have found the latter as much a tt man of honour as the former was. Tn vain did she strive to reconcile herself to what was past, and could not be recalled. . ft ft S I ft, * , called. –She spent the greatest: part of f the night in tears. « The. first news she heard in the morning was, that the post man had brought « a letter from the farm, to Mrs. Selby., Mrs. Selby, just casting her eyes care lessly on the superscription, tossfed it on her dreshng table. –It will keep cold” r –said she—-Maria, let us go to breakfast.” % 0 Scarce had they sat down with Charles,, when a card was delivered to Mrs. Selby. Lady Lumley presents her compli ments to Mrs. and the Miss sel bys, and destres their company to next thursday.” C 4. ‘‘there’ 0 \ V « / 32 . • There now, “ cried stie, holding k out, with an exulting air, to Maria –there –you and 1 were quite mistaken: Lady Lumley, you see, is / as fond of us as ever. We will cer 44 ■ tainly wait Oh her Ladyship. –Why Fanny” –continued she –you do / • * not Seem transported—-the matter, child? “ ^‘ Nothing, Madam, “ answered she (blushing, at the recolledfion of what had passed; trembling with fear, lest she should betray herself by going to Sir thomas’s)but I thought you « , • ■ y had a letter from my father.”
it 1 have, “ replied she~*‘ I « had quite forgot it –1 have fo many things in my head, that I vronder L remember anything –But go, Fanny, step A f * . 33 I step into the next room; I threw it down on my dreshng table.”
t Just as she had Spoken the last two ft words. Smith, who was a regular and frequent visiter, entered the room, accompanied by Dermot, whom he intro’ ‘\ by telling her that the Captain would not let him rest tillshe had brought him to pay his compliments to her. — But what are you reading, my dear Mrs. Selby ?” added he –A letter from an admirer So early ?” N » ■. m ** Lord! how you talk !” replied with an affected laugh –I affure you \ it is only a letter from Mr. Selby; and not the most obliging one, be lieve me.” \ \ C 5. Flushands,

*

J A * • . I \ I 34 .’ Husbands, Madam, “ said Dermot, are but too often insenfible of the m blessings they enjoy in the possession of the moss charming women in the world. There are, however, other men neither blind, to their beauties, I nor indifferent about them; and a woman who is either ill-treated, or neglected by a churlissh husband, has the fairest pretence imaginable to make herself happy with the atten tions of any other man.” 9 This civil speech, and the glances .with which it was accompanied, gave Mrs. Selby a pleasure which she could not conceal. She Smirked, and drew up her head, and.sidled in her chair. - Then, holding out the letter to Fanny, 4 she cried, with a coquettish air, Here, girl; do you read it; for there js more / . 35 more about you than anybody elfe in it.” –And she spoke the truth. Fanny, though she, like other young people, loved pleasure, had more sense.. more taste for rational amusements, than her mother or her filler: she had,, .also, more sensibility;; that account,, therefore, and because she had always taken more pains to please him. than.; Maria did, her father was really the fondest: of her; and, believing that she. would mind what he said more than her: stster or her mother, he had wrote to desire them to send her dovvn. to him, if tt they would not come themselves; ■• being. assured, he Said,, that fie had not So far * forgot her father, as not:, to be glad. to. see him. He also added,. that Lewfon., though she had used him fo ill, conti.. to love her; that he a(stually. pined for her, and wistied that she might. C 6 one » 1 ’ ‘. t I ft ■4 \ \ N 36 . V ‘ f one day, tired of London, be willing to reward his sincere passion for her. his part of her father’s letter affcist cd Fanny fo much—-as she was ft of not deserving the mention made of her in it –that she burst into tears, and was going to hurry out of the room to ( hide them. ‘ At that moment .Dermot, who thought her very pretty as well as her mother, went to stop her, and to inquire into the cause of. her uneasiness j but she broke from him, and flew to her own apartment. –There she gave a loose to her sorrows. tt * . Mrs. Selby, nettled at having seen the Captain take So much notice of her daughter, when he had been just making i 4 t • ) The Journey’ to London. 37 ing speeches to her, cried, Pray, Sir, let her alone : she is alwaysshefi; when She is by hersels.” V 4 At this time Fanny –though her mother was ignorant of her situation–— in consequence of her reflections, inexpressibly wretched: they were almost: insupportable. It was, indeed, owing to her too great fensibility that she had been conquered by Lumley. Shedoved him, and having, from her first acquaintance with him, romantically expedsed to be, one day. Lady Lumley, * had given herself up to the indulgence of a thousand freedoms which he looked upon as preludes to the lafl. Fanny, it hs true, firmly resolved not to grant the lafi favour, till her lovet was legally entitled to it: but let no woman, presuming upon her resolution, in a Similar Situa \

1 0 \ 0 38 . Situation, allow or receive freedoms not to be warranted by diferetion. She will,. i most probably, find her lover encroach upon her tender compliances, and her – self ruined by them. I Fanny, though She had. often heard of broken vows, could not bring herself / to think that Lumley would be a faith – less man. She thought it imposhble –notwithfianding all she had heard of the inconstancy of the sex—-her lover to 0 she less fond, less aftedlionate. –His in difference was quite out of the question. Strongly believing him to be inviolably attached to her, she, naturally, believed that he might, in consequence of the sincerity of his attachment, be prevailed upon to marry her. –As she was not married, however, and as., many things might happen to prevent her marriage, she tt . 39 (he could not help sighing;; could not help wishing that Jshe had not yielded before the nuptial ceremony had been performed. # While Fanny was in this situation;; Such reflections as these took pos seflion of her mind, Lumley, though not quite satiated, was, by no means, fo eager as he was before. He liked Fanny as a miftress, because he knew that She was fond of him alone; and yet condudled herself with a delicacy not to be met with in the common run of kept mistresses: : was therefore very willing to be connected with her in that way, but grew more and more determined to listen to no other. Agreeably to this determination Lumj*” lay, the next time he saw Fanny, be, ,, vest . • / I 40 .. , haved to sher with an apparently corrected tenderness, with that Sort of fond * indeed which a man discovers for ‘ « the wife of his choice when the honeymoon is just over. By this behaviour he made her hope that she might still gain her point, though Ihe fo sincerely repented of not having obtained it at first, that she could not have any rest. She was greatly afraid that something’ would happen to blast: her hopes. She strove to conceal the anxiety She endured, in consequence of her apprehensions; but to no purpose : it was, in Spite of all her care, perceived, and by the very person least pleased with it; by Lumley, who now, as she not only looked unhappy every time he saw her, shut continually teased him to repair the injury he had done, began to wish that he had never had anything to do with her

/ Her at all. Under the influence of such a wish he saw her less.frequently than usual. The long intervals between his vihts occasioned a thousand complaints on her fide. Her complaints rendering Jiim apprehensive that she would expose herself to his family, he resolved to be it absent when she came with her mother and filler to Lady lumley’s rout. i While fanny’s affairs were in this disagreeable Situation, Smith began to think it was high time for him to get pofseffion of Maria, who had held out, he imagined, merely because he had not been So prefllng as Lumley, whose amour’ with Fanny, in Spite of all his endeavours to conceal it, was discovered by him. It was fanny’s sondness for her lover, not to be hidden, ‘ which occa stoned the discovery, ‘^ Maria t 42 . • t Maria had none of her fifter’s tender sensations;; liked to be admired, but file troubled herself very little about being beloved. She .was exceedingly delighted with dress, and with parade of every kind. Provided she was fine, and made a brilliant appearance she was satisfied. She had no idea of sitting down contented with the man of her heart, in an elegant retreat, like her sister. Had she married the most amr able man in the world, she, most pro r shably, would have left him the next moment to go in search of another as amiable. She could not bear any sort of confinement : she was perpetually hurrying from place to place in quest of, what is called, pleasure and her taste for difii p/ation had been considerably incrcased. by y * . 4.^ 4 by her acquaintance with the Lumleys y by her intimacy with Smith, Maria was encouraged by Smith in her pleasurable pursuits: he was in hopes that she would, intoxicated by the diversions of the tov: n, become just the woman he desired her to be. Ta X facilitate her fall from virtue, he had recommended the present lodgings,,, as he well knew that the mistress of the: house would wink at many things which, others, in her circumstances, would not suffer. Besides, as she had been serviceable to him upon many. occasions, and as he believed that Mrs. Selby and. her family would be very easily duped, he thought the placing them there would be a great ad'’antage to Mrs.. Henfon, who, if she got money,, was, not # ✓ I • > t 44 not over nice with regard to xht’m&nned. of acquiring it. t ■ » V Mrsv Henfon, indeed, made such quick demands upon Mrs. Selby, that she began to find her purse rather light; yet she never once thought of returning home, or of making retrenchments in town. On the contrary, she determined to enlarge her expenses.. X ft ^ Happening to Say to Lady Lumley, the evening, her Ladyship did her the honour to admit her to her rout, that she fancied she paid more than she ought for same things, she answered won you continue in ready furnished lodgings : a house would not only be more genteel, but less expensive: there arc a chousand advantages to be met with in a house, which cannot be tt. 9 ‘ex vd 1 * t I A « ft The jotjrnet TO London. 45’ .expel; ed in lodgings.” She then turned abruptly from Mrs. Selby., .and spoke not another word to her the Telt of the evening. ip

4 The Miss Lumleys were not inuch more free of their coiiversation .to the Miss Selbys, as they were, both, engaged in tete d tites with men of quality, though not men of the ftri(5left ho ‘ nour in regard to their connexions with women. 4 \ K • # ^ S The familiar attitudes in which the miss Lumleys permitted their noble admirers to lean over them, and the unlimited freedoms they not only endured, * but encouraged, rendered them very bad patterns for Maria, and for Fanny, who, though fly had imprudently yielded to Lumley, was not an abandoned girl, a wanton. I « I » * ‘** 45 . wanton. A great difference, surely, ought to be made between the woman who, touched by a tender passion for the man who seduced her, determines to be faithsul to him, and her who, loose by nature, and licentious from example, is an unrestrained voluptuary with every man who. comes in her way. Fanny, when she saw the miss Lumleys –whon) she had always looked upon as objeds of imitation –behave in the manner abovementioned, began to think that she had not been quite fo much to blame in making her lover happy; but if their behaviour had fo bad an effect upon her, who had granted the last favour to Lumley, merely from her inability to see him miserable on her account, it had a much worse one upon her filler, Maria had, indeed, for a 1 I great

. 47 ft great while been ready to give a loose to all her vicious inclinations, and had wished to indulge herself freely with the men. She now no longer thought of keeping any bounds, but made such warm returns before the evening was’ over, to the advances she received from different men, that she actually furprised Smith the next day, by her carriage to him. He found her fo very knowing, and So very ready, that he was appre shensive of her Slipping through his fingers besore he was aware of it,. is he •did not mind what he was about. He thought it hard indeed, that another man should reap the fruit of all lis pains, having only waited to See the Lady as’ much in humour as himself, that the pleasure might be mutual. Besides, he also Sound, by what Mrs. Selby had said, that there was Some reason to imagine

* I tt \ 48 . gine She would change her habitation In conrequence of Lady lumley’s hints, She exprefsed the greatdl diilike to a lodging, and talked of nothing but of looking out for a house in the genteelest part of the town, being now able to I live nowhere but among people of quality. ‘ % _ # I cannot, “ said she one day to Smith, after having railed prodigiously ^ainfl her lodgings, I cannot think of taking any house which has not a /utfe of good rooms upon the first fioor for routs, and fit to receive people of the first Safhion –I must have all kinds of proper Surniture in the genteelest style.” Smith stared at her: he was asto ^lished, and wanted to know if She had received 0 \ ft s N . 49 / received any promise of an increased allowance from Mr. Selby. But he soon perceived there were no hopes of that; for she soon afterwards told him she t fhouid take the advice he had sometime before given her. I will not deny myself anything, “ continued she can make life agreeable to me, as I well know that Mr. selby’s estate answer my demands, though he is Such a churl as to resuse what I. ash.”

^ 9 9 tt Smith, pleased to see her So readily fall in with his plan, extolled her spirit, and advised her to keep it up by all means; telling her, that she knew not any woman So much improved, by con wersing with the best company, as Mrs. Selby; and that, as she was formed to relish every elegant pleasure, she ought to have the full enjoyment of it. –And vol, H, D you, / i / w « “^0 . ft you, my little charmer, “ added he, iturning to Maria, and throwing his arm round her waist not you of your mama’s way of thinking ?” ** exa<5l: ly, “ replied She, ssapping her hand in his; no two people can be better agreed : let but somebody pro the money, I will find ways enough to Ipend it.” Bravo!” answered Smith, killing her, you are a girl after my own \ heart; let us make an agreement to enjoy every pleasure as far as it will go.” Hold, hold, “ said she, drawing back her hand, I have no sort of ob jedhon to any kind of enjoyment; _ but I cannot poshbly think of con myself –There you must excuse me –No, no –I am very willing I to
■ • / 1 0 9 * t \ ^ r I % . 51 / ** to take you in my way. Smith, but I mufl have dear variety: one day with you, the next with another.” s’’ Umph’” cried he to himself, Ihe comes on purely –rather too fast tho’. –However, I must seize the lucky minute.” tt’ ■ Accordingly, he determined to avail himself of the first opportunity that offered: but the Ladies were now fo continually engaged, that he found it no easy matter to meet with them with ‘1 out a crowed of company; as they were t • hurrying from one place to another from morning tonight. A masquerade being now advertised at the Pantheon, Mrs. Selby and Maria were half distracted, first to procure tickets, and then to fix upon drefies. The mother, at last, chose that of a Sultana: D 2 the 4 \ . V V 52 The jourtnew to London » daughter pitched upon the dress df .a princess in one of the serious operas, in which stie looked fo alluring, that she ^ Vft ■charmed, at cox’s Museum, where the company assembled before they went to the Pantheon, a. young fellow, with
\

very much the appearance of a Gentleman. This new admirer of hers had no rest; till he inquired who she was. On, somebody’s telling him that her name I; Was Selby; that she was the daughter, i[ and her mother the wise, of a Gentle! ! of a good estate in – – – – – shire, he 1 * < got himsels introduced to them. He \ i I made overtures to Maria, rnsbrming her, • J at the Same time, that he was a linen draper in the city, very advantageousty Xettleti. I t A linen draper 1” exclaimed she, with a haughty toss of her head, and a contemptuous sheer –A linen draper! How t . 5j « How came you to think I fhouid, ‘1 listen to a linen draper ?- Odious f and in the city too ?” / Why not, Madam, “ replied he,, affronted by the contempt with which he was treated; , there are Gentlemens • r, daughters who condcfcend to marry ‘- ‘ ■ .4. ‘ y men in trade.” I V m Are there ?” answered she, with still greater pride : ■ it may be fo; but I am not one of those. I shall never “ lessen myself fo much as to becom’e ** mistress of a shop.” ’ * ■ You may do worse” “ the tradest man, provoked at her folly –you ** may become mistress to a man of quality, ‘ perhaps; and if you Should be in such a situation, you will be pro perly punished for your pride.” D 3 * Punished, \ » \ •A 54 . Punished, do you call it?” replied “ she, reddening with anger; we shall never C think alike, I find –I had much rather be miftress to any man, than the wife of ^ « ‘ a paltry shopkeeper. –Had I not first ‘‘‘ been deceived by your appearance, “ ; continued she, ‘ ‘M should have spit in 9 your face, on your making me fb in an osier / lover staid to hear no more: he 4 left her immediately, shocked at her behaviour. With such a turn of mind, it was not likely that Maria would hold out a great while against Smith, or any other man. Smith indeed would, most probably, # have been in pofseffion of her person on I the masquerade night, had not the Scene, as enchanting as it was new, kept her in the crowd, by which she was Surrounded, and prevented her from leaving V k \ *• -“ / » The Jourkey to London. 5^ It long enough for him to gratify his wifliesv N « % \ Fanny, on the other hand, who appeared, to please Lumley, in the dress of a hay maker, was absent with, him the greatest part of the evening. I Mrs. Selby, by mixing with the friends whom Smith had recommended to her, • i found fo mvich entertainment, and made ft • So many new acquaintance, that she became more than ever determined to take a house, believing a house to be now absolutely necessary—-hired one; but, as Soon as she had hired it, fly was di f flrefsed about Surniture, Mr. Selby haying peremptorily refused to increase her allowance. * # % D 4. She st I ( I. ‘i 56 The Journey’ to London. She took the first opportunity to inform Smith that her present allowance would not do, if she could not get a llirn shssicient to purchase shrniture. :, • I f - - This, was a broad hint, but he was iiot the sort of man to improve upon it in the manner she wished. Fie wanted • i I money himfelfi instead of being in a i; ji condition to advance it: he therefore told her, that the only step she could ‘I ill take, in her circumstances,, was to order goods, and promise to pay for them I as soon as she received a bill from Mr. t ^ ♦ , Selby. –If no bill comes up, “ added I he, ‘‘ they must take the goods again, ii all will do very well.” h -. II. I I ^ * Jt‘ • I Satisfied with this advice, Mrs. Selby I went to the most elegant dealers in their lil I reljpeftive branches, and ordered the I most I. L. H *’ J I i; iji

S’’ tnoft expensive things she saw, because she liked them best—-she was not to pay any money down, she never confi ‘dered price., nor reckoned what the things which pleased her would, cofl. By this thoughtlcss way of proceeding. She filled her houle with all kinds of fur •ft nicure, quite in taste In the next place, she looked out for a smart fellow, and chose a smart livery for him : and that she might be thoroughly in the fashion, she resolved to call on Lady Lumley in a morning, on purpose to discover, if poshble, ho’nfhe managed with regard to her servants. She went, and was let in: : she was admitted into her ladyship’s, dreshng room, and could not, indeed, have made her visit at a more critical time. Lady D 5 Lumley tt t ‘I ■! - * . « (A. ; 4

a

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tt, 0 • ft . ■ • ft t 58 . rij ’ \ f ri I \ Lumley’was just then examining a fbot man, who had offered his service, and who Was both tall and genteel. Not
- withstanding all his personal advantages, ft’ ’ I however, her Ladyship did not choose to hire him., She thought he fet too great a value upon his outside. She did not care to comply with his demands. ite ‘■ 1 ■ t J •_ The first wprds which Mrs. Selby heard, on her entering the room, were –• ■ I never was ashed Shch wages; and ; !!; i ‘ ^ il shall never think of giving them.” • iji * ■ i., ‘ •. M J ^ Mrs. Selby eyed the fellow as he went ‘ out, and fancying that he would fuit Jher extremely, desired to know if his .extravagant demands were her ladyship’s only objections to him. #1 iiil ■ ‘ - V ■, ■ ** Hc Oh m .it * P ‘’ ‘ A ■ I ( I ik’ : ?.! “S / I I 4 \ .’ ^ “He looks like a very impudent fellow, I think, “ said she. t 0 So much the better, “ replied Mrs. Selby, carelessly, fo much the better : • ‘ without a decent afsurance, a man cannot wait handily at a table, nor carry a .cup with a tolerable grace to / a Lady:, if your Ladyship therefore is determined not to hire him, I will.” # fc » 9 Without waiting for an answer, she stepped nimbly towards the door, called after the fellow,, and, directing him^to. her house, bade him wait there till she returned home; adding, that she was pretty sure she should agree wish him,.

Lady Lumley stared: at Mrs. Selby ’as’ if she shought her intelle<5l: s were really

tt

difbrdered, when she herd her talk, of

tt 4 »

‘P P giving

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tic { I r .• ‘- ■ * •. ■ I “ Uv‘ C - ib .ilj is; | 6o ; i, ^ y il giving those wages to a servant which i floe had resufed, thinking them extrava I.. I I gant. Her Ladyship was, indeed, obliged, as she lived up to the height m some: |: to retrench in others’, and it was cilij ^ __ 1 absolute necessity, which drove Sir though j|| mas to retire in the summer to his house y in, Mr. selby’s neighbourhood. ^7’: p With a look strongly indicating her astonishment, and in accents as strongly II; cxpreshve of envy. Lady Lumley laid — Why shrely, Mrs. Selby, you must || have gained a constderable addition I * > : • to your fortune lately, or you would i / I never enter upon fb expensive a style i of life.” r ^ si PT ‘ij L No, indeed, “ replied she –But as we live in London, we ought to id ^ r • tt do as the people in London do.”. - . - Very ^ ^ V V A I

J K ** true –But as there is a great . difference between people with regard to their birth and fortune, there fhouid also be a difference in their manner of living and appearance; or elfe there is an end to all difiinfiion t ^ people of fashion, and people of no *■’’ fashion, without such a difference, will be confounded together: little people, when they strive to appear always make themselves ridir euloiis, even - So contemptible, that ‘‘ they are not to be endured.” Here Mrs. Selby coloured; and upon her ladyship’s railing her voice upon the animating Subject, felt herself rather offended –She took leave of her immediately; but her anger had not prevented her from making several obfer vadons on the furniture of the dressing room, X ^ % \ ■tt 4 $ 6z . ‘I ‘ ‘ room, and the whole appearance of a Lady of fashion in her morning dejhabille. I V The observations which Mrs. Selby made during the abovementioned visit, K shnk lb deep into that when I she had hired the footman whom her y, : Ladyship had rqedled, in consequence: :; his unrealbnable demands (chiefly tas have it laid that she could aflbrd to give” ii wages which Sir Thomas Lumley could. I mt) she went out to order Several nick I nacks, to decorate her dreshng room,, ; rii i and to chule a piece of silk for a bruns •I wick, to wear in the morning, though; nothing could be more unbecoming to her. –As Ihe was a fat figure, a tisht / CD I drels, of course, made her clumlinels more conspicuous: : dress in which I Lady Lumley, being both tau, and well I formed, appeared to advantage. ; ‘ Before II ‘ Il / [’ = ‘ ;. I % . 65

Before the Selbys were fettled in their house, Charles received a letter from his father, in answer to that which he had wrote to him in the character of an inamorato, to ash his consent: Mr. Selby had delayed his answer for sometime, because he thought it necessary to consider everything attentively, before he agreed to his fon’s marriage with a woman whom he knew nothing of, and who had no fortune at present. Charles was by no means satisfied with his father’s letter. r U I cannot giv6 m * my consent to a marriage of which I » ^ cannot approve: I know about the Lady in question She ever So deserving of my ap you will not afb prudently by marrying her, as fie has no for, , *

tune I i I S bl V ll # I I 64, . I tune in poffejfion, and as you ate imna f way to provide for a family.” } ‘hb : T, ‘ ‘ these paragraphs were read with the greatest diffatisfadlion : he was despe rately in love, and, of course, extremely disappointed.

- V J /.., Mrs. Selby by the Same post received
  
  *. ■ * ■ **
  
  i a letter from, her husband: In that he
  
  i
  
  deftred her to let him know who the
  
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  miss Cox was, whom his Son was So
  
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  • ■. f •. • ■
  
  I fond of: he also informed her, that he
  
  had ordered Charles to go immediately
  
  to Cambridge; and begged her not
  
  !’ ’ * ■
  
  only to enforce his commands, but to see them obeyed.
  
  \ I
  
  1
  
  ■ Charles, as he was, at the receipt of, his father’s letter, more than ever infar
  
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  tuated with Sally Cox, who very arc.’; .’; :
  
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  . • I
  
  ; ‘ t
  
  • tt
  
  LI
  
  #
  
  . 65
  
  9 ‘ • •
  
  0
  
  fully Seized every moment to tempt him, by additional allurements to commit one
  
  folly after another, to marry, or do
  
  *
  
  worse, was particularly pained by the
  
  commands in it with regard to his re
  
  • >
  
  to Cambridge. It V as a thunder
  
  C f
  
  llroke, and he had not, for sometime,
  
  r
  
  courage enough to carry the intelligence
  
  ‘I t
  
  to his Sally.
  
  t »
  
  0,
  
  . \
  
  I
  
  As to Mrs.’ Selby, Jhe being too agree
  
  J
  
  ably engaged to attend to her son’s fur ture welfare, a business of fo little im portance, ran carelessly over her huff
  
  1 ^
  
  band’s letter, and then asked the girls who miss Cox was, of whom Charles had wrote to their father. ‘
  
  » ‘
  
  They both answered that they could
  
  not tell, and she made no more inquiries.
  
  Mrs’.
  
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  pi \ Mrs. Selby had now lb many engagements
  
  upon her hands, that every day L in the week was devoted to pleasure,,
  
  and card parties on sunday evenings iji; : prevented them from being inlupport
  
  able. Had she not employed her Sun;
  
  ;! indeed in that fashionable manner;.
  
  ♦
  
  she could not possibly have done the btifiness she did. By paying short visits,
  
  , *,,
  
  Sunday morning, and playing
  
  ( ; cards every Sunday night,; she made a 4 • I shift to be tolerably civil to the large I’ and very genteel acquaintance she had picked up during her short residence in Londom However, while she was ex i - • S, tremely exafl in the payment of her visits.. she neglected the payment of her bills, i’ which rose, at length. So highy that the ; 1 people who had given her credit began 0 I to look about them : they alio began ‘i to grow clamorous for their money. Their I I

Their clamours were, at first, disregarded : • when they prested to be heard, \ she ordered herself to be denied, with as much composure as if she had not owed a shilling. She had been long endeavouring to imitate ‘people in the highest ranks of life in every fespedb, and the general custom among them, of not paying the bills of their tradesmen, was too convenient a one not to be closeljr followed by her. Mrs. Selby, however, found, at length, that there was no putting off her tradesmen any longer, who, not being able to meet with any redress fronr her, agreed, unanimoussy, to Send theif bills down to Mr. Selby in the couni try..? /. I % While »

X While Mrs. selby’s creditors wer * employed, Maria, after having, I been for Some time quite willing to grant * whatever Smith thought proper to ash,, became, ih consequence of having yield Mst * ‘ ‘ ^ her own defires, and his pretended love for her,, sh much dissatisfied with 0 * V him, as to be ready for any other man “( ‘! I - ‘ who fell in her way.. Very different was C she from. Fanny. –She, not being natu !i’ ‘ of a licentious disposition, sincerely lamented every dayv her fall from vir III ^ P txie, and, every day,, felt herself more Miil i ‘ ■ i ti I ll wretched, at feeing that Lumley did not rf; difeover the least intentiom of marrying SI ‘ ■|’ her. Whenever she urged him to make Mi • ‘ ^. her his, by the strongest ties, he put ! *. • her off in a manner which increased her L * IV uneasiness. She had now, indeed, fresh b: i. y llhi;. ‘ ^ C cause to complain, as she had all the II reaioiv in the world to think that she ! i’. N .0 • .4 ■ i ic was 4 ‘ ■ ■ • : : V I’ I !■• ■]. * II i. r, ■. \ki : I, ■ ■ I i! S. I ■. ; *; ■ ■

I il # a • • ^ y . Eg was with child. For a while she endeavoured to conceal her suspicions from herself, and wished to find herself deceived. When her alarming conjectures were confirmed, she was almost: frantic with remorse’and grief. Yet, as hope is ever at hand to flatter the miserable, fly. Sometimes, fancied that what she considered as an aggravating circumstance, might, in the end, prove rather a fortunate one, by making her lover more disposed to repair the injury he __ K had done her. But how to inform him of what she So much wissied him t6 know—-Was the perplexity! –Between her impatience and her delicacy the conflict was Severe. At last, the ardent desire fly felt to enjoy again the tranquillity of which she had been So long deprived, prompted her to acquaint Lumley with her situation, and with 0 tt 9 • • i ^ itl J ‘’ f. “ 1 I. ‘ ‘r ‘/ 70 . • II . t Ji - with the encouragement that had given her to hope he would hasten to restore C her mind to the peace of which he had ! ‘i; robbed it: but she found him inflexible ito everything she could lay upon that subject. He promised, however, repeatedly promised, to take care of her during her lying in, and to provide for the child afterwards. This was all her I; ‘ prayers and tears could extort from him. f ■b She then abandoned herself to the most il’ ‘ * |- violent grief She was almost driven to despair, and found it difficult to con jfl ceal her feelings from her mother and l Maria, though their extreme dissipation 4 prevented them from attending to her, ‘as they would otherwise have done. Fler ;; brother also, being too much attached I • to Mils Cox, to watch over the conduct r.

I I ‘I of his Sisters, there was not a creature to whom she could open her heart, to \ whom I / * M r F . 7^ whom she could impart her Sorrows.’ Her Sorrows, for want of being communicated, becanie doubly oppressive : she could only Hope they would, of themselves, bring that life to an end, which she no longer wished tp preserve; as it was become an insupportable burden to her. The violent disturbance of her mind brought on a fever: she then prayed devoutly to die –or, at least, to miscarry : imagining she should be better able to conceal a miscarriage at that time, than when she was farther advanced in her pregnancy. –She was terrified at the thoughts of bringing active child into the world; terrified to a de # , not to be described. ‘ < ■ • > Charles was the only person who paid any regard to poor fanny’s melancholy, though he had not the ssightest suspicions

Vhlli ■^1 I ‘a.. 1 ‘ \ ■, V ih 72 . t r j * ■ uji: Er cions about the cause of it. He was

- I I” alsh exceedingly unhappy at the letter fiiij ■ ■ ^ i id : • SC he had received from his father. By li ^ communicating the contents of it to la’ Sally Cox, he threw her into fits, and i j was lb alarmed by them, that He was alp S most on the point of making her any promise whatever. Upon her declar I’’ ing, when she came, to herself that she i’ could not live without him, and that ; ltc ^ 11 i ^ L she would rather die than yield without ||: ‘ marriage, he began then to think of I’jl consenting to a procedure against which, 4 fs he’ had, till that moment, been firmly ‘resolved. He still, however, felt Some i(:! struggles. He had ever both loved and
revered his father: and had he not, by ■ i I j • • • i:; i accompanying his mother to London,. ■’ and to the theatre, been thrown in the j[ J; way of Mils Cox, he would not, in all LI lil probability, have disobeyed him; but 0 the i; ‘ - ‘ t I 0. * [(■ I. 1 i n :? ‘ I ill i ll • I if ‘ll . I’ il • 1 I i II ‘I , yj I the distress which Jhe discovered, on his i being inclined to quit her, rather than I displease his father, absolutely overcame him; and he, at last, told her, that if. she would make herself easy, he would be hers. –Adding, that he would write to his father, let him know he was engaged to her beyond a poshbility of recalling his promise, implore his pardoij for acting without his approbation, on this one occasion, and asfure him that, upon every other, he would always endeavour to prove himself the most dutiful of Sons. This letter being dispatched—-hav

been written without his approbation, merely to quiet sally’s conscience, whom. he most Sincerely loved –he Sat dowii and began to consider what he had not once thought of while he was writing to vol. II E his « 0 % di iff i ■ ■ h A i, ‘CN’ ^ \ ctsif.d’ ;, i ‘. ‘; ■ LI 1- : ■ *!. I; 74 , ‘icjp ‘■ ‘. “ ‘ ‘ ■ ‘ ■ ‘ ^ y’ax 11his father, though it was a matter of t sis very great coniequence –lie began to 11 j’ ‘’ ‘ ‘ ‘ IS consider how he and his Sally should ipi’! i live after they were married. The little uhliiti ■ ^ y ’■ ‘. sis; prospect there was of his being, for ct ’ ‘ ■ ■■ ■ ‘ III many years, in a situation to keep a fa • 4 fi i ■ ^ |||5 mily, made him sh very unhappy, that ill he was ready to write a Second letter to lip jhis father,, ansi to unsay all he had laid. pli ■ ■ ‘ III to i lb 1 4 i In this .agitated state, not knowing II ion what to .determine, he went to Mils III ‘… J. Cox. Ske, being in a great hurry to Seif’
• ‘ ■ cure him, began to talk of preparing Il ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ I i immediately for her weddino;. Seeing him I II vquite inattentive, and lost in thought, she Ij I || ^ ^ I 11, asked him why he looked sh dejedted? [ ■ whether he repented of what he had ill promised? II hi ■ ‘ ■ IH ‘i »*
»* ‘. ■ ‘ ■ R I • *. I I ■ ■ j Jil ■’ ij j,
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He told her, he should never repent of it, if he could think of any way of maintaining her; adding, that, as it was not then in his power, he was almost: distradted : distradted at the thoughts of involving her in the deepest distress, as he really had nothing but what came. from his father, who, most probably, he said, would recall his allowance, upon his acting in the strongest manner against his commands. * / Never mind that, “ replied Sally; he cannot live for ever; and I sup pose his estate must be yours after his death.” Yes, “ answered Charles; but my father is neither an old, nor an un healthy man. He is likely, I hope, £2 to t. i( ( ‘ 0 \ … ♦

to live many years.; God forbid I should wish his death.” «

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Whether you wish it, or not, “ replied she, he must die one time or other; and he may as well die now as by and by’

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T ‘ ■ ^ This indifference about the life of a 4 II’ ‘ ‘ ■ iman to whom he was indebted for hi? I ill i jl own, discovered by the woman to whom I M tt Ij be was on the point of being united for ij ■ ■ I; ever, hurt Charles extremely, and he ijll ^ ^ |1(|! I i^nlwered, rather shllenly –Tou may I L « fi think fo; but I cannot. I have all lil!! ^ I ‘,. Ij the reashn in the world to honour my i ’• father, and my affection for him is Ip II not lest than my veneration. I must, I therefore, be very much pained to I K henr you Speak Ib fiightly of him.” hh i inli I I lee — fui iiij Ud.| io ■ - f isb hm !! I II / %. » The jourkev to London. 77 ** rsee –I See how it is, Mr. Selby, “ replied she, bursting into tears; you are moved with everything but what relates to rm –You are quite insen fible to me –No –you never loved me –Your heart is harder than marble.” - .A 9 ■ 9 Here, falling into one of her fits, she frighted poor Selby to such a degree, that he was almost incapable of helping, her for Some time. She carried on the farce indeed So long, that he was nearly in as bad a state as ftoe appeared to be; with the concern he felt occasioned by thinking that he had by his violence – *. as she called it –thrown her into that condition. When she recovered, therefore –a good while afterwards –he thought it necessary to Say everything in his power to pacify her. He consented, in short, to her preparing to ace 3 celerate • I i • V 78 . I ilf V r I celerate their marriage: he was by no means, however, pleased with hurrying it up : he wished to acquaint his mother and Sisters with his design, and to invite them to his wedding. The latter part of his wish she would not hear of –She / insisted on his giving up the desired mi.

vitation, as it would only occasion an J ! additional expense, which had better be avoided. f / 0 V ‘ ‘ • * V •. - ‘ _ I st ■ ■ ‘ \ \ r “Finding that everything was to be done in the most private way –legally—-left her, to make what preparations

L ‘ she deemed necessary on bis part, for the I ceremony which was to make him a husband;; ceremony which, in his circumstances, was very little to his taste. %. When he returned home he found Fanny, his favourite Sister, dangerously •

y ft ^ \ ill. She was choir delirious, anti, in the height of her fever, raved about Lumley in such a manner, that her brother began to suspedt Something was wrong. J ‘He ashed her why she loade herseff •uneasy about Lumley, who was nothing to her. $ Yes, but he is, “ Said isle, hastily Then, finking at once, into her form’^r dejection, added, –Oh! brother! yost cannot think how he has used me.” •• 1 My fears are confirmed then, “ re 9 plied he — poor, dear, unhappy girl! –But tell me, Fanny, what has he done—-me, you Shall never want a friend to. vindicate yoiir cause. Make yourself easy, my dearest sister—-^ will not only force Lumley to tell __ V E 4 me 9 f / ‘* 8o . ( ‘‘ me how he dared to use you foi will force him to make you all the reparation you can desire ^ ft r II ■

With these words she. wrung her hand, I ■ rose hastily, and went out of the room; leaving her, not quite aware, at first, a II from her ilinefs and her grief, of what ■ he designed: : a moment’s recollec 9 “tion made her sensible that diis talking with Lumley upon: fo. tender a fubje<st
^ •* might be attended with, very dangerous ‘ consequences to them both, as She well knew that neither of them wanted spirit. She well knew that her brother Charles had very high notions of ho l| nour; she was distradled, therefore,. 1 Cst what she had inadvertently laid, fhouid prove fatal to hm, and to her cruel–— ‘■ i h but still beloved –seducer. She would’ i i ‘ I ‘ have given the world to recall her words, .. but * I. - I I w ft r \ The Journey, to London. 8t but to recall them was impossible.. She resolved, however, to endeavour to pre I vail on her brother to take no notice of what she had said, for the present at
•

least, as it ‘might entirely prevent the tt desired reparation. “ ‘• ‘■’1 ’s Starting” up i in her bed, in order to speak to Charles, and not Seeing him in the room, she was quite frantic –she called –she screamed for “’ the fervann “ ‘^ ■» 1’ ‘ ‘‘V. V 7. •… ‘ *• V - r; When the maid’ appeared –Where ■ is my brother said she, with «the ‘ most eager accents; ^
.■ ^ ‘ !■ Gone, Madam.. ‘

ft ^ ■ -; V ’ • Gone! gone !” replied she, repeating the words in a hurry –Where is I •yiie gone –Run, run, good Sukey, -^ E 5 and S 9 4 * y r 82 . * ^ and .try to overtake him –tell him 1 am worse –much worse, and entreat him to corn back to me directly.” 0 % \ “ Lord, miss !” answered Sukey, it is imposhble to think of overtaking him : he was gone above the length of a street before you called.” Distraction!! –I am undone indeed –Where is Mr. Smith then? ) Call him to me.” 4 I ^ 9 Mr. Smith, Miss?? –Smith is not in the house—-has not been ¥ here today « shall I do? –What shall I ‘‘ do Send for him –tell him I want to / \ 9 ‘ r

V tt n . I to speak with him immediately –bs send for Charles.” w Where can I Send to Mr. Selby?” cried the maid, except I knew where he was gone i * ! that’s true –but yet Send for Mr. Smith –Send for both, “ replied Ihe, in an agony of grief and terror —

W Send to Mr. smith’s lodgings, and to Sir Thomas Lumleyst –No, to Mr. Liimleyst in Pall Mall –for my bro –Good heaven! save theiti, or I am lost for ever !” tt Who mufti send answered the maid; thinking she only rambled, and talked delirioufly. My mistress and E 6 Mist % 0 % % Hi… …

.JI mil itn s4 . miss Selby are both abroad, and John ft is w ith them.”, • % st ‘ ‘ t ‘ tt,, ^ go yourself, good Sukey, “ it, ’. ^ ■ –laid Fanny –and go this moment, ‘i « or it will be too late.” -. III • F » It ■, i A…… . Lord, Mist! I cannot go and leave I , «• i j and the house My miftrest will febld me finely when she comes home, j. ^1 dare not do^any such thing.” 3 I., III t…., _ ; : ^ f - >, I ..’-* ’ y * {, V ij SI 1 - _____ i ntef Never mind mep cried Fanny : the ■ A cook will cake care of the house, and [: I i I i jai do not; want anything. Make haste, I good Sukey, or I am ..undone, “; tt II :; j. .Sukey, who did not believe that she ; was in her senses, thought it highly improper to leave her: she wished, indeed, that somebody would, come and persuade: : r I 1 I i “ ) t I 4. / I ‘.’ . 85 her’to. be quiet. She, therefore, stepped down stairs, and desired the cook to go to Mr. smith’s, and tell him that O Miss Fanny wanted to speak with him.

• jk # V While things were in this situation at home, Charles hurried to lumley’s apartments, and was told that he went out of town that morning; he was also told that he was not expected till the evening, ^’ Finding, therefore, ‘that there was no probability of feeing him that
*

“day, he went and prepared everything for his marriage with miss*vcox, nbt Thoofing to See Fanny till he could tell i her that she had met with Lumley:.;
Poor Fanny was all this while on the rack, left her brother and Lumley fhbiild have had an interview; Should shave ■ quarrelled. Her terrifying apprehen ^ ft fions ft r
• I 86 . tt r lions increased her fever: before night she was quite deprived of her senses. I While she. lay in that pitiable condition, her brother, not being able to find f ’ ‘ t _ Lumley, called to see how she did. She was then incapable of telling him what ‘i ‘i. ’ ^ she had shffered, from the time he lest her, upon hts account; or even of de t|| firing him not to go to Lumley. He i I J therefore went to miss Cox. I; Ist

II The anxiety which he felt at finding I his sister lb much worse, joined to the ‘disquiet he endured at the thoughts of jl his approaching marriage, had made I him really fo melancholy, that Sally I taxed him with indifference –with diff I like. They passed a very disagreeable I evening together. However, as the rei. proaches with which she had loaded him for » . f for his inattention, rendered him the more eager to convince her that she had wronged him by her unjust fuspicions he hastened to her early in the morning, accompanied her to church, and –married her, in the presenee of Mrs. Gibson her cousin, her maid Kitty, and a Gentleman who had never appeared before to him. This Gentleman, Sally told him, was a particular friend, and desired to give her away. Charles, had he not been totally opprefsed by the train of untoward incidents abovementioned, which hindered him from looking up with his accustomed cheerfulness, might have seen a sheer upon the face of his wife’s friend; and had he perceived that sheer, it would have, probably, made him uneasy: but he escaped, at that time, by his want of discern 9 N ft The joukn’ey to London.” discernment, the uneafiness which his penetration would, have forced hiih’* keenly to feel.. His mind,, indeed, was as much employed about his lister and jl i^umley, as it was about his new bride.. i ‘ 1 C? I He had too friendly, too fraternal a I heart, to erqoy happinest; while a per - I Ion lo nearly related tx)’him as Fanny I was both in licknels and diftrels: he, LI therefore, left his wife twice during I;; : his ‘ wedding day,, to inquire after his lister, who still continued delirious, and t!j ‘ i incapable of Ipeaking tp him, of under I standing what he Said to hei ■ , 1 ‘ if • ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘ • ■’ ‘ * ‘i i The very next morning, as loon as he X > I quitted the arms of his bride, he hastened I 1 I to.dumleyst apartments, ‘i’ . i ■ ‘i s’… ‘ • ^ He found him just returned from the f j country; he found him, too, diftonccrt I’ €d ‘ * ft f — 1 1. ! i f i I The Journey : to London.. Sg / ed at his appearance. He affected to receive’him with pleasure, but he was ‘ really very much embarraffcd at the Sight of him, Charles, on the Other hand, was not % in the least embarraffcd, but conduced himsdf with a Spirit and hrmness which discovered both the strength of his understanding, and the goodness of his heart. He had no reason,. indeed, to . *. V ^, disturbed at what he va; going to ^ say, as it was what both his duty and honour demanded of him : shut Lumley, feeling himself in a criminal light, felt a considerable diftnrbance in his mind, and by no means upon an equality with ‘ T shis unwelcome visiter, whose bufmessfi’ with him could only, he imagined, be about Fanny. He was soon convinced that his conjectures were right. ‘ “ Charles

Charles began with telling, him thas flis sister was dangeroiisty ill of a fever, and exceedingly delirious. This was a sufficient hint to Lumley, and he took it. He changed colour t she bit his lip, and Walited up and donvn, greatly agitated, without making any reply. t * ‘ ■ ■ - ■ t. ^. Chatles then fdpeate’d what he had Said, ad dill g, 1 believe her life is in danger.’* • 4 Lumley, endeavouring to stifle his Emotions, replied, I am sorry for it.’* L « Whether you are sorry for it of not, “ answered Charles, it rnatters little to Eer at present; but it is ‘‘ absolutely necefsary that you fhouid be 0 I \ / f, ‘ I . be sorry for having fo cruelly wronged sher: it is as necessary also that you fhouid instantly promise to repair the injury you have done her by masry ing her the moment she,,, capable of receiving your hand, of pmghting her faith to you % Here he ceased ^eakingi and fixing his eyes full on Lumley, that he might read his intentions by his looks, waited for his reply. ‘’ / ♦ / V ‘ Lumley, with looks expressive of thsh strongest: disdain, and in a tone incon ceivably infuking, replied, I marry your sister- – – – – Mr.. Selby,, , your reason mast be lost as well as 4t * hers, or how could you have dreamed. of such an alliance: I marry your sister PAND

J m # !1 I . 4

pray why not Mr. Lumley ?’’ replied Charles fiercely. ! st.. begaufe the difference between our 9 I births and fortunes, excludes the most distant idea of itdc: ■ I t I You mean the difference between ‘our sentiments” “ Charles, warmly; there is, I allow enough i) LI between them. The artful, base, dei i I I V signing villain can upon no terms be Suitable to the innocent, mild girl, who thought no harm till practised } _ ‘‘ by her Sly, her infamous de ‘v, ceiver.”. % I ! : ‘V This language to me, Mr. Selby ?” I Yes, X you, Mr. Lumley.” I ! D – – – – – – northwest

4 \ i \ i tt I The Journey’ to London, pj, % I « – – - –n! Can I live to be I * treated with such contempt ?” I t I i T *

it is not greater than that with which you refused to repair the injury » • * you have done a fond; credulous girl, I by marrying her; though indeed, even marriage would not be a rep dr a > could stie but be brought to look upon you in the light you dt ferve. Is it poshble for a woman to she. happy with the man who has balely Seduced her ?” i 4. N • >* *, ^ 4 * ‘ * f It is very weh, Sir, “ replied Lumley, mighty weh, Sir; but you will repent of this language. I have not been accustomed to this manner of talking, and from one fo every way my inferior.” S ‘ * The , h, ^ tt * i

C ♦

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  J ^ as you have done, “ laid Charles, is, , far from being your inferior, that he is superior to you in every re fpe<5t.” * « LI That shall be tried, “ answered Lumley : I shall be near the ring in Hyde Park tomorrow, as soon as it is light, with pistols, in order to chai stize you for your infolence.’* I I i \ I Poor Charles, though he shad an hoi

nest, good heart, was of a warm difpo ■ ( fition, and easily provoked. Repeating I the word insolence twice, with great agi I tation, he walked out of the house. i • I r . In. his.way to that in which Miss Cox (now Mrs. Selby) lived, he had sometime for restedtion : but the ferment into tt tt tt I,. ‘ .. 95 % I to, which. Mr. lumley’s haughty carriage had thrown him, prevented it from being of any Service to him. 4 m * When he entered the room where his t bride Sat, expecting him, he Shook all over; he was as pale as death. The indifference with which he beheld her –being quite absorbed in thought –.alarmed her: ‘ she was not, however, ‘ alarmed entirely on his account. She was chiefly apprehensive that he had discovered Something which she had

O imagined it very necessary to conceal from him : but she soon found, by his endeavouring to excuse his inattention to her, that Jhe had not occasioned his present uneasiness *, » •. > he had a little recovered himself, he went to inquire after Fanny, I whole

0 ft 0 |iit; ilil kc W f”’ > hi LI ■, ffsh ‘^in J’ ‘ . i «# L i AV / I whose senses had been restored by the i T i I’ medicines preferibed for her; but She il’ p; was fe) very weak and low, in confe |‘i quence of what she had taken for her K disorder, that her voice could Scarce be li. ^ ib heard. She endeavoured, however, and I i ■’, f I with great eagerness, to exert herself, in and to make him sensible of the extreme ij; i II importance of her request –not to take I j any notice of what she had laid, not to rl.. II ‘ take the least notice of her indeed in ^ any shape.” –Her cautions now came 11 I I too late; and as they placed before him ! I the consequences of what he had done jj in the strongest light, he was ready to fink to the floor, at the bare idea of the III ■ ■ •. ‘ ‘ I; business he should go upon in a few LI hours afterwards. –I am going to II throw mysels in the way of death: ‘i ! perhaps to kill a fellow-creature, a ■j y man whose youth and health feeni to ! I er pro I 1 I I / t 9 , gis ‘** promise him a long continuance in the world –I, too, myself, have no reason, according to the course of na ture, to expert a speedy dissfolution.” Such were his refledlions, and the, thoughts of destroying Lumley, or of having his own being suddenly extin – guished, made every nerve within him Shrink. He actually fetched fo deep a groan, that if Fanny had been capable of attending more closely to him, it could not have, escaped her. She only •. •’ * said do not promise me, my Charles, to be Silent with regard to mep r(‘ \ 1 ‘ Charles finding himself prested to speak upon a subject on which he could ■ } not make a reply with the sincerity he wished, saw no way left but equivocal tion. He condemned himself heartily vol. II F for » t t

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iri * * if If * i
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I; for having recourse to : it; but at that
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i moment, when his fifterst life, and his
own honour, might have been endan
h gered by a strict adherence to truth, he
ventured to tell her that he should not
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mention her to Mr. Lumley, .De did I not intend to mention her to him, only
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I designed to keep his appointment with
LI him; though he condemned himself fe’
i verely for having thrown himself into a
I situation not to be defended – yet when
j he considered that he was going to en
•
LI cause of a helpless, injured
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I’ lister, he began to think that whatever
; mischief might arise from his hostile appearance
on her account, he could not: be deservediy blamed, for it. ; ‘* 1 1 With these sentiments, after having said as much as he could to comfort tt Fanny, he returned home, to prepare himself y « \ I I ‘ • rf f .. 99 himself in the best manner he was able for what was to happen. \ Considering, however, that he had no private apartment ih the house in which he had stepped the night before, he went, aster having dined with his wife, to his mother; but he would not trust himself with a second sight of his sister that day. He Shut himself up in his room till the evening : he then went back again to his Sally, but was, by no means, in a temper of mind to adt the enamoured bridegroom. The sighs which perpetual! V broke from him, added to his silence, and many external signs of grief would have Sufficiently induced her t6 I Suppose that he was entirely distatisfied with his marriage, had not the tender % and affection which he exp rested for her, made her believe stie was as dear • F 2 to / lull

» tt I * •, ‘ i [ ., 1; I I ■ < \ • I, Tjoo The Journey vto London, ijiird l ur 1st , .di; to him as ever : and as she Soon found T‘!) || it was to no purpose to tease him to dif* r‘; ^, ii cover what he seemed resolved to conii

I rcealj she ileft off attempting’to draw the; ; * cause or his sorrow from him. Wearied i with conjedbures^ and mot. much; pleased I with feeing himin a huniour fb different jiji „ te \ ‘ I .from that in which she had reason –she ! ‘ij ‘ ‘ ■ I thought –to expect: him, she Tefigned I Jierfelf to resh Fii •; i.. ‘W, -, II ‘ ■ * ^ ‘ ‘ i I • ‘ ] - Charles, talcing .advantage of, his ih ■ j wife’s found steeping, stole out of bed ti I as soon as it was day .break, and tried to IH ‘ ^ ‘prepare .himself for though business.. I which he was, .very unwillingly, going II if j xo enter.. No man, perhaps, ever went f ♦ I .to meet ah enemy with more real coni .cern for the occasion; but there was no / r recalling what had passed, nor could he shear to behold a stster, whom he believed I I ‘/ 1 I . loi tieved strictly virtiions till seduced by Lumley, abandoned by him tcvall the misery which a mind like hers would, he knew, necessarily feel in fo difagreeable ar situation—-last: confmeration fpurredshim forward –He was not at all deficient in coiirage, yet a general tremor seized him at the sight of his antar gonish ‘ ft Lumley, advancing to hihr with a pair of piftbls, pointed one at him,, and asked him if he was ready. ■» Charles replied –I have only two or three words to Say, “ ** Be quick then, for I did not come ‘ here to talk.”. - - F 3 I tt tt i. « N / ■ ■ ‘ s • Im ■ ‘7 :. T; ^ 1 ii” g 102 The jcurnev TO London. I shppofe you did not, “ ’ laid .’ ‘P ‘ >4 ‘^ i Charles—-• is there no poshbility of ll deciding our difference in an arnica it; d; il,, ble manner? Would it not be more 5 Uf [!!j! I for the honour of ‘us botlv lb ‘to de ss i ‘■ l it ?” sti • iiii ‘ >. *. B < V I I y nc»t for mine, “ replied Lumley, I Kaftily. S’ “■ ■ , p • ^ .si. •. if ■ -

I No?” answered ckiirl€s –>* Could’ Si’ I you but bring yourself to marry I ‘‘”fanny, iail animomies^ bet ween’ us I would immediately cease, *, ^ the I f ■ ■ j warmest:, the most cordial friendship i ! would shcceed them.” * g i * r: ^-, I it. 1^ C ■» f 2 i « Marry your stster! –Would you I have fne marry a whore ?” ft 4 *

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Nay, “ Said Charles, .(stepping a few paces back, and putting himself into a proper position) it is now high time to convince you that I will not bear Such language tamely.”.

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Fire then, “ cried Lumley.

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He did So, and shot him dead, as he believed, as he lay on the ground, sense less, and .without anytigsts. of life.,..

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Struck with horror, and racked with. remorse, charles’s feelings are not to, be.

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desc4m4* ‘a.ll the provocations which he had received from Lumley were con.

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fidered as mere trifles, which had not merited theinliiftion of fo Severe a punishment. Freely would Charles, while he stood over his motionless adversary, freely would he have given up his own life to

F 4 have

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hhilst I iijii: : f

f T J ajft 1 iii i iiii II i d d: ^ Ini j04 , ili ^ L ii i have recalled Ms. He was indeed sh oh • - * * ffi much astc<5l; ed at the thoughts of having Ib’ji : I ■ been the immediate cause of his death, ! bst ‘iff lij that he .made not the least: attempt to iijil j ■ I! raise him, by way of feeing whether he il; was really dead or not; neither did he h 1.. tr. «> ‘* ■’ -* ■ ‘ll think of making his. escape from the — I supposed—-Ipot. ‘ • I ‘t .if II While he remained in this dreadful rei’ ■ j ■ verte, refleding only upom the guilt with ■tj ‘’ ‘ II which he had loaded his conscience, by I murdering the man who might have I been, had he not murdered him, the I husband of his lister, fomie soldiers, having heard the report of a pistol, came i up to him, and. Seizing him by the I f. ^ ^ # I.. shoulder, roused him from the lethargy il into which his refledhons had plunged [ * t 1! him, by ashing him who the person f killed was, and who killed him. ! Charles I i { i t t d I I • I \ f % % . 105 ■ Charles replied, with all the sincerity imaginable, though with a deep con. cern, that he was one of Sir Thomas lumley’s fohs, and shot by him,. Oh !’ is ho lb ?” said. one of the % > ■ fellows, ‘‘ then we must feeure yoii, • ‘ J » friend, to pay for the mischief you have done; “ taking out his handkerchief to tie his hands; ist doing^which

• he Was assisted by another, while a third,

began to examine the dead mam’ . * ■ - ». ■ :. i. y $ • * V Charles was immediately carried to the nearest public house, from thence he was conveyed to a justice of the peace, • s By him, as he freely confessed that he was the person who shot Mr. Ltimley, he was ordered to Newgate. F 5, Ti). 9 % ic . • To attempt to describe charles’s feelings oii his erttrance into this manrion of misery, is impostlble. –His mind was quite in a state of eonfufion;. his wife, his sister, his murdered adversary, by tiirns cr^groffed his thoughts, and equally contributed to the increase of his wretchednest. Sometimes he, terrified, saw yfixhfannfs eye, his unhappy father look at him with the feverest coun tt tenance: fometimesv a^ix.h/eanny*s f/iry he heard him correct his follies with the mildest accents, and’point out the fatal efifedfs of giving way to his pashon’s, wic}i ill the lenity of a parent, tt In this situation poor Charles was fur \ by wretches who had been guilty of every species of yvickednefs; and he was now acquainted with Scenes or vuiany and distress,, of which he had no 2 ‘ con cep \

I I I I 9 I / % # . 107 * conception before. Flis reflections and his feelings were hardly supportable. i While he sat reflecting, with inexpressible anguish, omthe condition into which he. had driventimfclf, his wife, ….. ‘.; V; X 0. •<..• J ft who had, _,, nex(; tp .the lunyley family, been informed pf the unwelcome news, ‘I came to the place .of his confinement, attended by her cousin Mrs. gibson With uplifted hands and eyes, and with all the noisy exprefllons of common sorrow, she ex(; laimcd, Where is Mr. ‘‘ Selby? where is my husband??! I will never suffer hiifi to be torn A ^ from my fond arms.” ‘, Charles, who bore his conffnem^en^ (• with unusual composure, repliedj ft am sincerely grieved at having in - you in my misfortunes ^ but if ^ \ F o you < / ‘‘*lr 14 A ssiilir w I io . ■ Lli

f i S you had sheen, persuaded by me if p you had waited for my .Ding in a • it / : ji more Indeperidant htuation, you might i I have. escaped a connexion with Siich ‘ a wretch as I am.” I ■ ………………………
- • * ♦ ^. * *
« ; ij’ This Speech Mrs. Selby considered as a reproachful one : it served to redouble her cries; fly filled the whole place y>iith her lamentations. ^ LI II ‘ ■ ■ I i I i The news of Charleses having fought || and’iciiled a man, and of his having been ff ^ ^ _ ij ^ carried to Newgate, soon reached his mo.. and Maria. They were sitting, at breakfast, with Smith, when they heard t * ^ it: and they almost as soon heard that t ft ‘‘Mr. Lumley was the man whom he shad killed.

■ Maria, without thinking of consequences, hurried intosher fister’s cham.r ber, whose Senses had not been long returned; and, inconsiderately, exclaimed –Oh !• my God! what shocking news! Charles has killed Mr. Lum and Mr. Smith says he must Suf fer the law.” I There was rio occasion for her Saying any more. Poor Fanny Sunk down upon. her pillow (having just raised herself on her fister’s. hurrying into the rooni, surprised) and it was sometime before she could be restored tosher senses. ‘ ■ ■ !w ‘ • ‘ ‘

t

t > i - 4 • ria When llie was recovered a little, the
V; j ‘ r k, y I ‘ I * - t 4 i resteftions which crowded into her mind
’ ‘ i ‘ I ■’ i were fo agonising, that stie relapsed; inta her former insenfibility, and fell out of. one fainting fit into another, till her life as % ft I no . as well as her reason, was, almost ex tindl. f ‘ i I Charles, in the midst of his shistrefs, was not overcome by. it. He had, irr deed, brought; tbeshistrels; into which he I L 4 M was plunged on himself .but he had I been adlu^ted by laudable motives. He I could not, shrelyj, be condemned for I endeavouring to repair the breach made; I in his fister’s honour. He would have f carried his brotherly affeflion for her, I however, too far, if he had attempted I;, to procure the desired reparation by any I criminal proceedings. As a man of dpi I.; I ritj he exerted himself in his injured I fister’s behalf; as a man of Spirit too, he: I he accepted of her feducer’s challenge. I When he had accepted of it, he did not t I imagine that he should be guilty of i murder—-the most atrocious sense of I I; the I ij ! ail II / * tt 9 % , III the Word –by killing his infoknt antagonist. \ With these sentiments rolling in hb mind, Charles determined to write to his father, and to deferkl his conduct in the best manner he could; thinking he ‘should, by a fair state of his case in every respest, contribute to the alleviation: of that grief which he must naturally have felt upon hearing what had happened • to shim. He therefore sat down, and, with all the ealmnefs in his power, gave shis father a clear and dte stindl account of everything that had . passed; trying to soften every stroke which might, he feared, wound him too deeply. His letter, however, arrived % too late: the unfortunate affair, in which r •. he bad been engaged, had already reached the good man’s cars, and with / ; ■ every f tt |: ‘S jiii I. 0 ‘,

t: • fi ■ 1,, 1 \ 112 , iffi L i every aggravating circumstance that could rend his heart in pieces. He » * i I would have probably been crushed by ij’;. I the blow, had not the only friend near I him, Lewfon, said and done everything I he could think of to conlble him. iii ‘il Till ■ |! Lewfon had, but a few days before |: the arrival of this melancholy intelli Mil i II gence, lost his father (to whom he had j ever proved himself a very affedlionate I II ‘ I Son), by a Sever, which he caught by II .Dshg out too long in a wet evening, 1i I in - overlooking his people. He had al !| Selt a particular regard for the eli der Selby;, and his love for Fanny had l been strengthened, by her being the 1^11 — I daughter cf a man lb entirely amiable, I lb every way relpedable;. whom shes greatly resembled, he thought, both in I ‘ her person and manners; and indeed, I he • ‘T ■ J ■I! III I !•.

I

. 113

he was not much deceived –Fanny, had she not been seduced by the example of her mother and sister, and of the lum lay family, would never, it is probable, have wished to leave a parent whose indulgence she had ever experienced, and by whom she was always distinguished., Lewfon, as much prepossessed as he was in her behalf, found his affection for her rather increased by her father’s partiality : she was doubly dear to him by being hk favourite. He looked upon every mark of her father’s preference as an additional proof of her merit; and, when he saw there was no poshbility of gaining her heart, he transferred a great part of the. esteem and affection which he felt for to Mr., Selby. With these disposttions towards them, it is no

■’■i.

matter of wonder that he spent much

of his time with Mr. Selby, especially’ ‘ ■

t

1’^

«

t

ii .

•• ^ when he found that he was not only deferred by his family, biit rendered exceedingly unhappy by their shell aviour, and beginning to be involved in a num

L ‘ I

ber of difficulties on their account. He

■! i aiso felt a melancholy kind of fatisfac i tion in talking of Fanny to her father, o I and wishing she tn’ight, brte day, be , weary of the gaieties of Loridon; one j; ‘ day be willing to share the tranquil plea I < fares of a rural lise, with a mail who I truly loved her. Mr. Selby, indeed,

shmetimes flattered himlelfi from Fan
ny’s natural temper, that she would, aff ijf III ter having leen everything in town, cheerfully return to the farm, and ac i cept of the generous Lewfon; He there’ ‘ encouraged the young man’s visits’ ‘ \, his daughter’s account, and, by fo doing, received fo much pleasure from his conversation, fo much satisfaction from ( ft % * . 115 * from a thorough acquaintance with his sentiments, that he not only wished more than ever to have his daughter love him, but really loved him himself, as if he had been his own Son. His regard for him was strengthened byjiis refiedfions on the difference she saw in their con du6t; and Lewfon certainly rose in his opinion, as Charles fell. What then must: have been his feelings, when die first read the paragraph in the news / ‘ * mentioning the murder of Mr. Lumley, and the confinement of his fon in Newgate I Hq felt himself both unhappy and angry; angry, to think that a child of his stiould be guilty of. Jp capital a crime. Sincerely did he lament his having given him birth; and was almost ready to wish he had died before that child had been drawn into I the commission of fo flagitious an action; ft 0 ii The Jovrnev to Londonc tion; an action fo repugnant to religion j an action which revolted fo much against: humanity. In this situation was poor Mr. stel by; nor was his young neighbour ima much Ids agitated one. He also had read the unwelcome article in his news paper, and was exceedingly (hocked at it. So greatly indeed was he Shocked at it, that he did not know whether he Should go to Mr. selby’s or not; as he, could not » A * bear the thoughts, fuppostng him ignorant of the affe(5ling event, of being the first to make him acquainted with it. Besides, his own father at this, very time lay dead. –He had been dead a week, and was to be buried the next day. Con w eluding, therefore, that he Should then See Mr. Selby, as he had invited him to the funeral, Jie determined to keep close at hoitie i ♦ X , iiy J home; but, on ivir. selby’s sending, to I tell him that Something Very disagreeable had happened, to prevent his attendance agreeable to his promise, he came to another determination. He re ■ ■ » solved to call upon him, in order to know whether his fears were well grounded. Lewfon found Mr. Selby with the f melancholy paper in his hand, and, with a countenance which expressed more than words can describe’’ ‘’ As Soon as Mr. Selby Saw lewson ad •vancing, he held the paper –Read here, my friend, “ Said the amiable,. distressed man, looking earnestly at him. Then, clasping shis hands in an agony of gries, and with uplifted eyes, he added –Good God! Can there posti r bly r \ % 118 The Jou R N E Y to Lon don. bly be. fo rhuch difference between one man’is child and another? –And 3 yet I once thought my boy as well y disposed—-“ % \ he ceased speaking, to wipe away the tears, which rushed into his eyes, in ^ m ^ Spite of all his efforts to stop them, lewson attempted to Speak comfort to him, but he replied –I thank you, \ young man; but you know not what it is to have a Son a murderer i pray God you never may.” lewson, Seeling the force of his friend’s Sorrow, Seeling also for his fan ny, who could not, he knew, but be extremely grieved to have her brother, of whom she was very Sond, in So un sortunate a Situation –Supposing her not to « I »

to be particularly interested in the event « which had occasioned it –(and he was quite ignorant of her being fo) immediately desired Mr. Selby to endeavour to make himself easy; adding, that he would, as soon asshis father was buried, fet out directly for London, and do everything in his power to serve his fon, Selby, grasping his hand, told him, that he was more his Tonne than ever Charles had been. i –I will go to Lon ■ don with you, “ continued he, and bring all my family home; but sher I cannot, must not ever enjoy the happiness of having my Charles with me again. Perhaps he must fuf fer an ignominious death –Unfortu nate young man 1” ‘’ ‘ ^ Lewfon ft t t 120 . • I lewson entreated him to be patient, und, after having staid with him a great part of that evening, sent to inquire after him, the first thing he did in the morning, with an assurance of being with him again when he had paid the last duties to his father, ■ i He kept his word; but before that time, Mr. Selby had received charles’s letter, in which he not only informed him of fanny’s illness, and of his own unhappy rencontre, but also mentioned his marriage; apologising for having acted against his approbation, by pleading his honour, which would have been o ^ forseited,. he Said, if he had not performed his’promise to the woman of his choice. This tt \ . ii * I • This letter confirmed what he had already seen in the papers, and it contained still more disagreeable intelligence, as he knew not till then that his Son was actually married, nor that his daughter was dangerousty ill, and had been guilty of an unpardonable indiscretion, by carrying on a Scandalous correspondence with a man who was in too different a style of’life to think of mari ying lier; and who would not, in hi, s opinion, ‘ % * have made her a good husband, if he had married her. k I 0 * f « * ^ ^ Mr. Selby was very much hurt at the discovery of his daughter’s Solly; doubly So, as it liad brought his Son into ■ • • •’- So dreadsul a condition : he grieved ex r ceedingly for them both. –Deeply concerned was he for his children, and Lewfon was not slightly concerned on vol. IJ. G fanny’s « tt

lhi_. h: L…. ■; L 1\ II ‘”. Iff’ *■ .: ti diii ■ II I •! t III. ■flin Tn ;;; j Ilis! L. i” ‘ liih lb; ‘7 * • ites

istt: MR i m ilh lij’ lio i III
0
I: r r II t; fi 122 . fanny’s account: he was truly wretched about her –Notwithstanding that part of her brother’s letter which appeared strongly to her disadvantage, he pitied her, he loved her –Fie .therefore, repeat 4 edly .told Mr. Selby, .that he was quite ready to attend him to London, and to give him and his family every kind of assistance within .the reach of his abilities. Mr. Selby though hi s was almost broken by these accumulated dis shrestes, thanked him ..earnestly for his ■most friendly offers, and accepted of them with all the fatisfa<5tion which a man, in So much trouble, could be capable of Seeling. They prepared to Set out.as.soon .as postible. While Mr. Selby and Mr. lewson fwere thus em in the country, fcencs . 123 Scenes of a very different nature relating to the family of the former were exhibited in town, Mrs. Selby, when jshe first heard of 1 iher son’s having killed Lumley, flew into a violent passion, Charles was t always a wrong headed fellow, “ said she : he has brought himself into a pretty condition; he will ruin us all I suppose” “

When she had finished this maternal Speech, she Sat down to cards with Smith, Dermot, and Maria, with all the composure imaginable, abandoning both her Son and her.daughter to their respeflive fates with all possible negligence. Sir Thomas and Lady Lumley behaved in a very different manner. Instead of being careless about their Son, they, both ‘ G 2 of \ \ w:. • * ^ C ‘ ^ ‘f I 124 . of them, * immediately, on hearing of his dangerous wound, denounced Severe A’ ‘.. |: vengeance against his nnirderer, and ji. _ _ * if declared that they would neither share !» * i ‘ 9 0 ^ I pains nor ccsh to bring him to justice. S’” -. J ‘ ‘ t’ • r f ;; 1’ ri While these two families were acting sh diametrically opposite to each other, Mr. Selby and Mr. Lewfon arrived in London. The former, it may easily be 1 I shppofed, was eager to see his wish and daughters for many reasons: he was

’

i particularly ckfirous of feeing them first, that he might prepare himself, gradually, i, to hear rhe sight of a fon, till then efeferyedly dear to him. I. i s 4 ‘Lewfon, at his own request, remained at the inni he chose to remain there till the first interview between Mr. Selby .and his family was over. He thought the • 4 m ^

the presence of a third person, could not be at Such a time desirable, especially as ft that person had been rejected by Fanny, with the entire approbation of her mother and sister, if not, partly, by their persuafions. r ► • ^ I. r;

X a.. * Poor Selby did not meet V it|i the reception he expeisted. He started back, 4 V indeed, at the very door just when he entered the room in which his wife and . s V • • •, • V _, •. ■ daughter were sitting. Pie beheld them ■** ** #>. dressed So much in the excess of the .. i
»

that he would hardly have known

ft

them in any other place. He found them at cards with two gentlemen, decorated

I

in the Same high, extravagant style. One of them particularly struck him, he was in Scarlet, and, at that instant. Saying

1

I a thousand Soft things to Mrs. Selby,

whose.hand he had Seized as it lav care, leoy upon the card table, while she was

G 3 availing

I

‘i

I. •

i.. : : •

Mf.

•! •!»<

• *’ j *

; jt*?

vif: ‘: 120 , fii’; availing herself of all her elocution in HI’ order to clear up a contested point relat ling to her manner of playing, to Dermot, j: | whole king she had calkd, irfi Oil! ‘. ■ - sslii ; |, The very unexpeisted appearance of I Mr. Selby, had not a more ^ agreeable. effia upon his wife, than ^.w unexpeacd situation had on him. i ‘ I • 4 ; f’ t ‘ Turniitg briskly about, at last, Mrs. !i Selby exclaimed –Good God 1 Mr. S ** Selby; who. thought of feeing yo; ; ‘ III LI Why not?” replied he; but I ij’ I’ did not think of finding you So em 1 ployed, when your son’s life is at f stake, losing your time and your money with coxcombs and monkeys.” ‘’ • i » Coxcomb, I ^ i i V 1 \ ; 12f Coxcomb, Sir!” answerecl Der – ^ * mot, repeating, the word, and rising ** pray do you mean me, or this other Gentleman? I am no more a coxcomb ** than your own Self, my dear; and 9 the man’ who dares to call me cox shall repent of it; nor am I a monkey, neither, I can tell you that “ now.” ‘ I I “ O Sir, “ answered Mr. Selby, ** you may place which of the words you ■ like best to your own account, and leave the other for your companion.” For me. Sir ?” Said Smith –Wshat:
4 do you mean by affronting me. Sir? or this Gentleman, Sir ^ I don’t bet

\ lieve that you ever Saw us before.” 5 G 4 And * r I tii i4 III ll I 128 . \ And if I had not Seen you now, “ I;, replied Selby, I should have been I much better pleased, 1 affure ycu.”, M - I; i • Fie, Mr. Selby; “ Said’ his Lady; • • J’ ^. i; ** how can you nssfont.dehtiemen who rl « i’ are quite unknown to you? how l you expose yourself in this mans ■*- nerf” ■ ‘ ■ •. ‘ ■ V V I fi; Expose myself! I expose myself!” I answered he, eagerly not I, ‘dndeed’: <• i N: it: is you who expose yourself, Mrs. I : Selby, if you come to that, by I keeping company with a parcel of Such fellows.” 9- < I, _ jw ^ 1 i . 0 - i « D – – – – n you –we are not jour icllows, “ cried Smith. tt < ^ ‘ » . \ ^. tt. ^, 9 ‘ « I ♦ ^ V tt ‘ tt V tt y;, :. ‘ ■: : ‘’ - -.. No’’ * • •» . .tt - * tt 9 * I I ., iq ‘No” –added. Dermot –. we - will « Soon let him See that we have not our ft ‘♦ % fellows in England, no, nor in Jre 1 land neither, honey. –This Sword, Sir” –continued’he, looking fiercely at Mr. Selby, * and drawing it half out of the Scabbard –this Sword, Sir, shall ■ Soon malic you know, as it has many a better man,, that. I am not your itl low. Sir, in anything. D – – – – – n me’; do you’know That I shave often dis patched a brace of impertinent pup in a morning with a brace of bul lets, and then sat down to my„te’a with as much composure assis L had but that moment stepped out; of bed ?” •«. j Aye” ‘ –replied mr.’shelbyrrtfeteh ing a deep Sigh,, on the recollection of charles’s unhappy affair –‘‘ it is to the G 5 ready I « I i % * } 130 .. I ‘I ready use of those cursed weapons M; ; : of destrudlion that 1 must impute the of my fen. –Tell me, “ –conti! ! he,, turning to his wife, have you seen my poor boy ?” \ I Lord! Mr. Selby !” Said she, what 2: I a question? Can you shppofe I should I I, go to shch a place as Newgate to see ‘ him? No –since he has brought him I ^ i self there, he must be content to stay i ‘‘ till he can get out.” ! s I I * t T ■ Mr. Selby, lifting up his hands and I eyes, replied, with an air of contempt,, I I Weil, Madam; if you. a, re too fine a Lady to visit your own child in his assliftion, I shall go to him vv^ithout I you –but first kt me See my poor Fanny. –Go, Polly, “ added he to Maria, and prepare your Sister for my •. •. com V / % . 13i * f coming to her, that I may not appear too suddenly before her.” i You need not be afraid of that, ’ said Mrs. Selby; fly will not know you.” Is fly not in her senses then ?” iex J.. S S. ■ ^.4. J claimed her father. She has been out of them a long ‘‘ while, I think, “ replied Mrs. Selby.’ tt So you have all” –said he –Come –where is my child? where is my Fanny? Show me the way to her.” I L My sister talks sensibly, sometimes” I r –said Maria. I ^, ‘ * G ^ ‘ Unhap ’ ^ ^ ^ ik -4 I * J. * \ V % 9 I * fi; ‘ I - Iii

fid iiu fw ^ i: : h;. LI! I 132 .; i

h’j

I Unhappily for poortanny, she had

ijij ‘

|; a lucid interval when her father came

II to see her.

si.. ■ *■ *- iq/i K I: Before he went into the room, mrs f!! ….. ^. Selby stopped, and, in a low voice, bade 11 Maria tell her sister that he was coming, j I lest the Surprise might be too great for I her. ^ - ^ Fanny, who was; ever listening, in jidpes : of. hearing about Charles, cried 11! my father, my father is here. Hide me, Sukey, hide me — 1 I had rather die than meet his ani ■ ^ ^ ger. ‘‘O < fi ‘ > I? I am not –I will not be angry with ■ I 1 i ‘‘ you, my poor girl, “. replied Mr. I iff j ‘ y ■ } II Selby, going up to her bedside–— !!ii’ ‘ ^ LI P. not alarm yourself about anything, I life ^ ^ ^ ‘ ! jl ^ %■ C ^ * ‘ll ‘ • n y I ^ st i i; f! • ‘J t. 133 r my dear, “ continued he, Sitting down by her. 0. Oh! Sir, you are too goodan svvered stie –Then, after a pause, and a deep sigh ~ you do not know, “ added she, looking at him in a manner moving beyond expreshon –that I have murdered my brother.” Poor, dear, unfortunate child” –answered Mr. Selby –Sobbing aloud ^ he could not suppress his feelings upon the agitating occasion: : Maria stood an unconcerned fpedator; only saying, every now and then –Lord! how you ramble, Fanny!” ♦ •, $ 0 * • ‘i ^ Mr. Selby, pained by her uncon

♦ cern, which increased the compassion which he felt for Fanny, bade her not throw

9 ft ft ( ‘ r,, / ■ ®

throw any reflections upon her sister,, the unkindness of them would be parti i cularly cutting to her in her condition, ijr: He then applied himself efitirely to the endeavouring to prevail on Fanny to be I I composed; but that was impossible: I the unexpected sight of her father, and n* If the dread of staving totally forfeited his i*’ f paternal regard by her indistretion, af; ;, .Mi II tested her fo deeply, that her fenles LI again deferred her, and she became ‘‘”I II more delirious than ever. ili ‘■‘■fi S ‘ ‘‘’hc T When her father beheld her in that • i .4, / ■ I V ■I: ‘V || ‘ mst^’^choly state, he went into the par li lour, tq reproach his wife –who had dist ll mified her company –for not having in J formed him of her daughter’s ilinefs at • • * first, that ■ he might’ have come up to S town before, and have seen that she wa. .; properly attended. –It was, indeed, hep i”. appre . d *

I S T , < i ^ iy I .’ : I 4 %. \ ( / N ‘ I . 1^5 % apprehensions with regard to his coming to town, which prevented Mrs. Selby from giving her husband the informa r tion he mentioned. –She did not choose to have her pleasures interrupted by Ms presence. w Mr. Selby fet all night by the fide of his Fanny, and all night did she continue raving about her brother, about Lumley, and about her father. V ^ * « When Mr. Selby returned to the inn, at which he had left Lewfon, he returned So changed. So worn with grief, arid with watching over his unhappy daughter, that his young friend thought him more altered in one night, than he had f ‘. been for some years. He thought also that it would be best to persuade him not to go to see hi Son, till he had takea … Some \ * I ^’1 si! I H’jjij ‘ m il S 130 i *1, J .f ■ ■ ■ II lyth m I slime. rest;; as he had told him he had riftlt 7 I not been in bed, nor even lain down; II All that this friendly young man could I say, however, was to no purpose. He I would, v’lfit his charlesi lev/fon, finding Mr. Selby determined to see his fon, accompanied him to the, gloomy place, of his imprisonment. While they proceeded to that I place, lewson could not help lamenting I poor fanny’s Situation, and pitying her ifather’is exceedingly. Mr. Selby received a constderable addition to his Sorrow when he came within Sight of Newgate. il ewson, who ha, d insisted upon giving bail for Charles, endeavoured tp comfort Mr. Selby, by telling him, that he 0 « , t he should lee his fan in a more agreeable situation. V I y Never, “ - replied he; never shall I see him as I have leen him, free from the guilt by whkii he is now op “ ft tt. ‘ He Said no more, but strove to check #. the tears which streamed from his paren i ■. * * tal eyes, lest they should render his •… _ Charles more unhappy than he was. » ‘ * Charles, as Soon as he Saw his father • ft ‘id. enter the miserable room in which he was confined, was going, instantaneously to sty into his arms; but the recol lestion of his marriage, by which he had V > violated his filial duty, stopped him — He ‘stood rooted to the earth, with his

eyes ft i ■ ‘ ’ 11^8, .. eyes .cast: down : he could only articulate –My father!” r ‘My child! my fon!” replied, thfe I good old ‘ man, advancing to him, and’ i Soiding his arms about him –if what II O ‘ ■ ij you have wrote to me is the truth, I you have been more unfortunate than’ *’ as what you did was in dei fence of an unhappy fister ^my poor dear children, why did I Suffer you I to go from. me ?: Had I kept you with me at the farm, this wretched / had’ not come upon you : and if * 1 Fanny had accepted of this generous j ‘^’friend, “ continued he, turning tq I lewson, we might all have been happy.” • lewson then advanced to Charles, ! shook him cordially by the hand, and I said he was come to. offer him any as i nstance || ‘ I i . ‘ r^g ststance in his power –I will begin hist, “ acldeci he, by bailing you.” ‘There is no bail to be admitted stoi murder, “ replied gha.nles, if inten – tional r but that is not the case here : Mr. Lumley fairly challenged me to him; but as his challenge was only a verbal one, I cannot produce it in my justihcation : > I have no per ‘ fon to be witness for me, and the fa are determined to ruin meif {iof fible,, merely for my fisterst prestiming;. to think of their fon. –But be com Sir, “ continued he to his father, Lumley, I am told, is not yet dead if he can be sofar restored to his fenses, as to be capable of own that he was the aggressor, and can be prevailed on to do fo, you ‘‘ will, at least, have the fatisfastion to know \ A A k V % LI II I 140 , ‘ I ^ know that your fon had no inteni I tion to commit the crime laid to his I charge. I wish I could as easily ex i ^ culpate myself from the charge’ of I disobedience, by asting in opposition I to your advice; but an attachment, “ I continued he,, sighing a woman I every way amiable; a woman wdiom I I could not disappoint, after having I V given her my word – – – – – – – – – ^ i ik I y > ■ ■ • ^ I Here his emotions, occasioned by his I - ‘Tecollestions,. prevented him from going I ti -, ■ Mr. Selby made no reply. j i ^ ‘ LI Lewfon,. still finding himself but too II || sensible of the power of a passion which L, 1: ■| has made fools of the wisest. persons, felt a great deal of pity rising in his mind » ! ‘ ■ r I i $ 0 4 . The joijrney’ TO London. 141 \ mind for Charles, ‘ and said everything he .could think of, ‘ .to render his father satisfied with him’ in that Tefpest. He then’ spoke’ of Fanny, though with the utmost: delicacy ‘ and tenderness; declaring, .that he wished she might recover, and consent to tt him hc her protestor for the rest of .her days. In answer to this., Charles Sighed., arid his .father fetched a deep groan. ■ ■ ………….. :. I -. tt When they were all three more composed, Lewfon said—-Mr. Lum ‘‘ lay is not astually dead, I am willing to believe that my friend maybe bailed : if So, I will answer for his appearance.” ■ S
f
•

%

Charles thanked him, in terms which strongly expressed the sense he had bf

the

\

V

J

I

0

••

f ’•

142 . i j the friendship he discovered for him;

I i

5’ adding, Would to heaven my filler

Fanny had looked upon you in the

J;

I. light I do at present!”

J I

I’..

I.

o’. _

!…

lewson, grasping his hand by way of acknowledgment, answered –What

1;

I is pass: cannot be recalled; but I will

I

I. hope that your lister may have her

II

health restored, and feel herself ca

I

^ of delpifing the unworthy man

I who took a base advantage of her I credulity.”

II

t

♦- ‘

'

S!!

!! good will ever come of my

j: children, “ laid Mr. Selby, eagerly,

’’ while they remain in this wicked

town, or, indeed, in any place, with

i

Such a mother.” 1 I i 1 Lewlbn (■ » ■* \ 1 . 144 ! lewson then left them,, in order to en i ‘choir about the bailing of Charles. ‘t Mr. Selby, when he Savr himself in private with his Son, talked pretty round Iiy to him about the conduct of his mother, and of his sisters, not omitting his •own indiscreec marriage. He told him wery freely, that his mother having I drawn upon him. Since her .coming to I town, for very large Sums, he could not ^ .afford to advance anything to him; but * I, that, if he would bring his wife down ito the farm with him, they might Share ihis fortune with the rest of the family. Charles thanked him sincerely for this mark of his consideration for him, thouph he knew that his residence at the Sarm with his - wife would not do by « any means. He had Seen, indeed, Something \ i a D st S u It ^ ri I r • % 144 . M I thing in Sally, since her marriage, which ; made him imagine she would neither fiiit his family, nor be contented to live with them. He was now far from being pleased with her, though he had not met with anything in her behaviour to which he could make capital objections. While the two Selbys, father and fon, were launching out im praise of l.ewfon, for his great goodness and generosity, he returned. He told them that Lumley was not only alive, but that there were Some hopes of his recovery, though faint ones; adding, that he had brought Charles his liberty. / i ‘. The conclusion of his intelligence was received with the fmeereft fatlsfac tion, . 1 When \ 9 I , 145 When Lcwifon had enjoyed the happiness which he had communicated a few moments, he begged that a coach might be called, to carry them from that dreadful place. –The fees are all paid, my dear friends, “ continued he : you have nothing’ to do, therefore, but to go home.” The elder Mr. Selby, clasping him in I • his arms, told him that he was his belt friend.. 0 Charles added –I shall never, northeast ‘‘ ver be able to repay you.” I • • • When the coach came, they stepped into it very cheerfully; that is, the Mr. Selbys and lewson; but there vas still 1 ^ ‘ a gloom hanging about Charles, which overspread his countenance; and it ra vol. II H there I r. 1 ‘ft S % 14.6 . f * there seemed to increase during his re 4 fnoval from his prison. During his cont . T veyance’ from thence, he begged leave to be Set down Sora few minutes at ‘f Mrs. gibsonst, ‘ that his Sally, his dear # wise, might be informed of his present felease, might be made acquainted with the goodness of his friends. 0 This request: he made, because he wished to make his wife happy, and because he wished also to have his father 0 see her; to see her at a time when his heart was fostened by the news with regard to Luniley, and by the releasement of hm. tt « When the coachman stopped, accord • ino to the directions he had received, td Charles prested his father and Lewfon to go in with him. Mr. % t i L LI C 1. ♦ / : t • I I T The Journey’ to London. 147 i N • I Mr. Selby refused at first:; but Lew son, prompted by his friendship to Charles, though he was himself in a great hurry to get to Fanny, persuaded him, with ib much success, that he con fen ted. ‘V It happened that the street door was ajar, the maid having accidentally left it in that htuation. / I will show you the way, “ Said Charles; and ran upstairs. \ Pushing the diningroom door open, he Saw no body there. He then went direstly to the chamber, wondering that his Sally did not sty to meet him.. Seeing the bed curtains drawn, he began to Scar that she was stck: he undrew them S immediately, and discovered her asteep H 2 –sh 1 ft i •M (J » ‘tv. ) i M • d I I ^48 . ( i –in the arms of a young fellow to i: whole face he was a stranger; a man who, by his clothes. See. See. which lay by the bedside, appeared to be in the ■: / higher, walks of’life.; ft H t, \ 1 At the first moment of this very un t * expested discovery,; Charles was almost I petrified –When he came a little to the tt iise of his senses, he thought of demanding Satisfastion from the invader of his bed, the injurer of his honour; but when he ’confidered that he had himself r already murdered, perhaps, one of his felloiv creatures, his tongue was chained up. –His nresscstions on the scenes in which he had fo lately been engaged, checked the career of his resentment. Suddenly returning to the diningroom, he threw himself into a chair, and’ appeared to be almost; bereaved of his in – ■ tellests, ft 0 t f 4

A t I tellests, to his father and i..ewfoii. Their endeavours to restore him to the enjoyment of his faculties, and their inquiries into the cause of his disorder, waked the fieepers in the adjoining chamber. Mrs. Selby called bet/y twice, to know what was the matter. * No body answered. Fler companion then throwing on his clothes, stepped into the diningroom. There he beheld two persons totally unknown to him, endeavouring to recover Charles, whom he knew, though he was not known by him. He started, believing, with his wife, that he was ‘■ very sase, in a very different place. Instantly hurrying back to the chamber, H 3 he I ■ 0 :, II • U ‘i *1 I’ tt « : fi? ■ ‘J I isso ( ( lie catehed up’ his hat,” and thrusting I his nightcap into his pocket, rushed I out of the, house.. a creature at i tempting to Speak to him, though ali I eyes were fixed upon him. I J • ir,

[ Mrs. Selby, who found that something I was the matter, though she could not j I tell what; who found too that her lover was gone off, and that’ nobody came near her, slipped on a bed gown, and entered’ the diningroom. There, as ft ^ Toon as she Saw her husband, she began, in the most; fawning manner, to express the joy she felt at feeing him again sase, and only begged him to tell her why he had not sent to inform her of such good news, that she. might not have been fo suddenly surprised by his unexpested appearance. Unexpested ft f \ t ( . 15 i Unexpested indeed, “ replied he, has my appearance been to you, as your perfidy was unexpested by mey y but since I have caught you in the arms of another lover, you may be assured I shall no longer be imposed by your artifices: I shall get y rid of you as fast: as poshble.” / - The astonishment of Sally, of Mr. Selby, and of lewson, vv^as now pretty equally apparent: she did not at first; ✓ imagine that she had sheen discovered, and they were no less surprised at Seeing Such a figure address Charles as her husband, than at Seeing him treat her So cavalierly. Sally, indeed, had, during her liushand’s confinement, given herself up to the vocation in which she had long laboured, that of a common prostitute; though when he first became acquainted H 4 with I \ ! I i I I i t \ » ft 152 ‘. • with her, she was in keeping, and occupied the first fioor belonging to the woman whom she called cousin, and who assisted her in drawing him in to o marry her, having learned that he was the only fon of a. rnan who had a pretty estate in – – – shire -

- ^ tt • tt ^ ^ . i V V * Sally, a perfest mistress of every, fe •male art. Soon recovering herseislfell on her knees before her husband * * confessed that she had injured him; adding, however, that she; had been unfaithful merely with a view to serve him, as the gentleman whom she had admitted to her chamber, was able to
ftt procure his release, and to say him from the punishment with which he was threateneei. it \ - This 4 \
/ n I J . 153 | *■ j This speech was far from operating in the manner desired. It had no other. effest upon Charles than to rouse all his indignation. He flung her from him with the utmost; contempt, and would not hear a syllable in her defence. Then, turning to his father, he said—-see, Sir, how my disobedient behaviour to the best of parents is punished: » may the severity of my punishment, and the sh’arpnefs of my remorse prevail on you to pardon me! Never — never, my dear father, will I offend you again.” t • ‘ * ‘r t • # • \ The good old man, scarce! y recovered from the aftonishmentinto which a quick ft • succession of strange scenes had. throwri him, since his arrival in London, grasped V the hand of his repentant Charles, and casting a took, expreshve of all that both H 5 he N

! t tie and his fon felt, on Sally,, wlio was still howling out her diftrest, led him away to the coach, and fet him down at the house which, his wife had. taken for 0 I i him.. i i i ‘ Mr.. Selby found his wife and daughv ter in the parlour over their tea They received. Charles witst as rnuch: unconi I cern as if nothing had happened. 0 Mrs. Selby only faidj she was glad he was released; as she hoped she should; now have no. more diftnrbance.*; about

4 ♦ him. Mr. Selby scarce taking notice of her, desired Lewfon to sit down, and drink some tea, while he went to See ‘Fanny. He found her restored to her •fenses, and she exprelied all the joy the nature » / f . 155 nature of her situation would admit of at the sight of shini : yet she was still afraid’ that he would, when he became acquaint 4 ed with what had passed between her and Lumley, despise her,, and never more .receive her as his child. She also wished to hear how k went with her brother; but she dreaded to ask after him. Her father, however, hoping, that his infor * mation concerning charles’s release, and lurnley’s being, alive, might have, a happy effest upon her, communkated, by degrees, what had passed relating to them; and concluded with the highest: encomiums on lewfonst..generous behaviour; not forgetting to let her know how much anxiety he had expressed about her iliness, how much foiicitude ‘ .about iier recovery.. H 6. Fanny, I t t I « t I ■ ■ ‘ » I 156 . Fanny, conscious of being unworthy of Lewfonst regard, felt her pallid cheeks glow with shame, and averted her face to hide it from her father. Mr.. Selby was, at that moment, in .formed shy Maria, that, two or three people wanted to. speak to him. He then hastily returned to. the parlour. As soon as he appeared, several: tradesmen who had, in vain, requefbed the payment of thdr bills from Mrs. Selby,, put copies of them into his hands, and insisted upon their being immediately - discharged. He told them very calmly, ‘that he was unable to comply with their demands; he told them also, that most I cf the articles in their bills had been ordered equally without his knowledge and approbation. –That was nothing ** to them –they Said—-things. ^ had # \ had been sent home to Mrs. Selby, and he muss: pay for them.” –He replied, # that he coulel not poffibiy pay for them, as the film amounted to much more than his estate would produce in two or three - years : adding, that as he had neither ordered their goods, nor known of their being ordered, he would on no account ♦ ♦ ^ advance the money required for them. tt M At the conclusion of this decisive answer they left him, muttering threats which he did not hear. 4 ft Infiead of sitting down comfortably to breakfast with his family,, Mr. Selby spent his time in a long altercation with m his. wise, for having been fo extravagant. 1 • • 4 During « ir e I t Ji; ^ / 158 . I f During this altercation, Maria, more ^ than once, pertly interrupted her fa ji i there, by telling him, that she was sure. . mother had ordered nothing but o what they had occasion for, and what ‘ was absolutely necessary for all genteel i people. O Genteel people!” cried he, lifting up his hands and eyes — Genteel people! Never let me hear the word again; a word which has, been’ A fo fatal to my peace : a word which,, tristing as it may seem, has ocasioned. ; the ruin of my family. Byyour^^« Gonnestions,. Mrs. Selby, “ conti nued be, - you have brought one of my daughters almost to the grave,. my fon,. within an ace of a halter, and. me very near a gaol; while you and. the ot.dr girl, there” –darting a contemptuous t . I V • , lyg tuous look at Maria –have caught the fashionable indifference which ■ renders you both insensible of the misfortunes .you have created, and ‘ incapable of extricating yourself from I them : nay, you do not feerri desirous of getting out of them.” ^ •w Maria ntade no answer to these just ‘ ’sentences,, but with, a saucy toss of her head.. tt ‘ ft Mrs. Selby, mustering up her whole stock of spirits, began to reply to her husband in her ufiial insulting style, call ring him a poor, pitiful, mean,; miserable wretch, who knew nothing, of life himself, who. would not, if he could help it, let anybody enjoy it who did; and who would have kept her down in ^ obscure corner of the country as ignorant I I •• I t r is iid J s f io . ». <

. norarit as himself have as good a right to enjoy pleasure as other peo, pie, “ continued She, and I will en t I - joy it in shite of all your low,, shabby • notions.” At the beginning of this fracas. Lew II shn, who thought it best to leave people dishosed to quarrel, to fight their battles, by themselves,, back to have, a, quiet dish of coffee with Charles, whose head was, he plainly Saw,, extremely unsettled., 4 Mrs.. Selby, finding herself at liberty to say what she pleased, : So loaded her husband with reproaches, that he began to wish earnestly to be removed to any place out of the reach of her. clamorous, tongue,, which he could not poshbly Si tt tt knee., •”. * A ‘ • Me. 4 \ f , ifii Mr. selby’s creditors, now returning with proper officers, carried him away, immediately, to a ipunging houre; leaving a sufficient number behind them to take possession of everything upon •the premises. It was then that Mrs. Selby began to feel herself in the wrong, yet she was too proud to own it. % Maria, shocked at this sudden reverse of fortune, though she might very reasonably have expested it, flew into a vio lent passion, and exclaimed bitterly against her father, declaring that it was” entirely his fault, as he might have saved himself and all of them from fo disgraceful an event, by paying the people what was due to them. While these fellows are in the house” “ irie ^ ¥ u •

I.. f t62 . f *’ t ed she, it will be imposhble to see any I compariy.” \ • ») ; • 4 ri

• f • In this frame of mind she went to her filler : she found in an agony of grief at hearing that her father was hurried away in fo ignominious a manner; and it made her more than ever repent of her indiscretion. All the Selbys now were in Some de gree punished for their imprudence –’ Mrs, Selby was not, however, yet convinced of the impropriety of her con dust, and’ of the neceshty there was for a reformation of it. There was a necessity, indeed, of letting her correstionrs continue for her life. As to the rest: of the family, their measure of Sorrow was almost full. lewson I . “■ Tewfon and Charles, returning home, after they had spent a more calm hour together than they had hitherto enjoyed, tt * ’ * found, to their great concern and Surprise, an executim in the house. * % * Lewfon, who breathed nothing but be i hevolence and generohty, when he heard \ that Mr. Selby had been dragged away by the orders of his creditors, desired Charles to coinfort Fanny, and to affure her, that her father should come back to her in a short time, a’s he would himself be answerable for the payment of his debts. He then flew to bail him. I ‘t During the absence of lewson, Charles 1 O ^ 7 * ’ paid a visit to his unhappy sister, and addressed her in the manner his friend had desired him, .ft 0 \ She ♦ ft T t. ‘ *. ‘ • ^ I:. - ‘ i 164 .’ k u f i I She shook her head, and Sighed y but Was too ill to make much answer. f In about a couple of hours Lewfon brought Mr. Selby home, having given a bond for his diseharge, and disniilsed the fellows who had taken possession of his house. V While this business was tranfasting, Charles heard that Lumley was quite out of danger of dying from the wound he had received. Thank God! thank God!” Said *.. A Mr. Selby, lifting up his eyes and hands. with a grateful fervency –I shall not then have the misery of feeing my fon brought to a shameful end.” .j /

z. 9 /. . 165 Going into fanny’s room, he ac quainted her immediately with this favourable turn in their affairs, thinking it might have a good effest upon her, by contributing to the recovery of her health. And indeed fly not only grew much better, but began to conceive .4 ft hopes of lumkyn consenting to marry her; flattering herself that he was, in consequence of her having been fo near death, brought to a right fense, of the injury he had done her, and would feel a desire to repair it. This flattering ray of hope, darting athwart her mind, brightened her features. Being cleflrous also of making her father’s mind more easy. She looked up to him with more confidence than She had yet done, though with a face covered with biuflies, and Said, Now, my dear father, I hope it ft is still in my power to restore you to the fii [AT « ‘* H k f . / ? i66 The Journey, to londions

• the enjoyment of that tranquillity of which my indiferetion deprived you., ^ i, ‘ V Mr. Lumley will, I Jiqpe, not only I. f live, but be willing.to do me justice.” • Here Fanny ceased to Speak. Her I, > … », » father having listened to her with the ! ‘ ^. ‘V kindest concern, replied, –‘‘ And can » you, my dear Fanny, have ressesteci ferioussy on what you have, just ut Is it possible for you, fup postng Mr. Lumley ever ‘fo ready to do you what you call justice; is it possible for you to bring yourself to accept him? Could yon, my child, 1 * sofar add to the humiliation you have already experienced, as to expose yourself to the continual re of your husband, to his per fuspicions, in consequence of .your having been once censurable, 2 ‘ ad I !i « / \ ) I j , ishy admitting that you could bear the in behaviour of his family, who have always treated you with haugh and who now would certainly behave to you in the most affronting st manner conceivable? The woman who has rashly degraded herself, by V yielding to a man whom she could not rationally have expested to mar her, will ever be an objest of con in that man’s eyes. It mat ters not, my Fanny, who disnonours a woman, he who was to have been her husband, or another. When she she has once lost that virtue, the pre servation of which ought to have o been her principal care, she must northeast expest to find it restored to her. \ A life of the fmcerest penitence may * atone for her errors with the Father cf infinite mercy, but it can never place I i •1 ♦V • ^ i i Lt i I I I 168 . k. t i ^ , place her in the same rank with wo i • .n 1 men who have preserved their cha rasters unsullied. You cannot there my dear girl, be ever happy with Lumley, should he offer to make yoii his wife. –You will meet only with disappointment and disgust:, re proaches or neglest. However, that you may not think I have Set this matter in a false light, I can affure you that Lumley will not, on any account, entertain thoughts of mar you. Men who are capable of Sedustion, and of defending what they have done afterwards, at the ha tt ^ zard of their lives, will never be brought to repair their condust. Men are indeed highly blameable to seduce sex; but how much more are women to be condemned for Suffer them to gain improper advan tages . i6g tages over them. –But do not let thd ft truths which I have delivered,. and which, painful as the utterance may have been to you, I could not, as a friend, as a parent, conceal – – do not let them drive you to despair, my child. A sincere repentance is always acceptable to the Almighty : by that, and by living irreproachably, out of the reach of farther temptations, you may not only be secure of pardon at the throne of grace, but be happy yourself, and contribute to the feli ■ city of others, by the exemplarinefs of your conduct. Be cothforted, theresore, my dearess: child : this is the last: time I stiall ever Speak to you. upon this Subjest. .1 Should not have Spoken to you upon it So feelingly, had I not plainly Seen that you were beginning to flatter yourself.with false - II 1 hopes, t » I, I I i p I i #70 The Jourwet srofilondosi. N hopes, to ind ulge, Chimaeras me ver t0 st she reali&sh” ‘ a, f .> i : : ■” ‘ ■ ■ ■-■■■.’-.! -, V -, r.. I ■ , V ^ t( A ^■. 1 -? ‘ it.; :? i,; ‘ \
r Poor Farjny, sturing the wfiole time otf’ sherifasherst tfpe^ing to her, : wa dro, \vh •«di.ih tear, she vqqujd ^bnly reply to, what lie Said with Sighs and Sobs, whiciximadc him fear that she felt but too sensibly the truths he had advanced : .yet, L as he ■thought it jhisidu ty ‘fo Ttell iher what .she shad reason to. expest; in order to pr© went sher’ meeting wkh any fiature disappointments, he proceeded, as Soon as she Saw her: grow a fittle ‘calm,; toinsorm her of all ithat lewson bad done sew them; adding, however, that it was by sho sheairs his intention to permit him to injure shimself. on his account, and that she Would Sell part of shis estate, to pay the debts which his, wife had oontrasted. –« I will then, “ .continued. he, ‘‘ rake ber / I «

** and all my family down fo the farm. From thence she, with my consent, shall never be removed; d, 1. j as I think the air will she bf ^reat fer to you, I wish to have you in 7l J ^ condition to be conveyed from London.” ■’.. ‘■ ft 9 ‘ Fanny, in whose heart every rising hope was, by this time, crushed, every fond ft expestatioh destroyed, answered, with a deep Sigh; while she strove to wipe away the starting tears –I shall be gfed. Sir, I I to be reihoved; from a place which seems to put mein mind of what i ** wish never to reniember; or to re member it in such a manner, as to be 0 ■. g. I deterred from falling into another irt st discretion. After the severe shock, indeed, which I have met with, I \ shall not, certainly, bear the men I 2 tion i % / w y 172 s I tion of rthe worcl love from any other man, were he fiispofed to talk of iu \ st t\xt db.at Shock I shall not long,. 1 be Survive: anti I w’ish indeed to st be removed from au my troubles.” ( ♦ • i \ ‘, - • J ‘ * ‘ ‘ t ■ ‘ X ‘ • * ■- * *. ‘ (\ f y 0» 4.. j ‘ K Jk O \ * _ father replied, Whatever rnif fortunes we labour under, however • -■ # disagreeable ouf existence may be, we are not to wish with anxiety for put removal from a world of trouble –By endeavouring to regulate our pashons, and to Submit patiently .to the dispensations of Providence, we have a st claim to the; divine Savour; and we may be assured that patience and re ^ sst Signation will bring us. Sooner or later, the relief we sigh for: they, will make us equally ready to live,, st nd toidie, contented.” y •%. A A ^ y * …. Fanny, V -* * s. i A S’ ii.. f

i • f J ; Fanny, satisfied with the serious and ij I necessary truths delivered by her father, | became fb much more composed, that jl he left her, to look after the rest of his | i family : first, however, going to Lew 1 Son, and making him the most sincere I acknowledgments for his generous friendship, he told him that he would sell a { part of his estate, sufficient to discharge ell his debts, as soon as he could meet

r. ‘ ^ • with a purchaser’ ‘ ■., ft. Lewfon opposed his design with all the eloquence he was master of, and ad yised him, as he proposed to take his family down with him to the farm, where they could be fiipported at a much less expense than at London, to permit him to satisfy his creditors for the present, „ as he could very well Spare the money; I 3 and . * ^ * ft I I jl tt

f _ f and to pay him ut of his annukl avis ‘’. ■ V • • t - ■’* * Wigs. . \ > ■ ’ i -> ■’ .D V N ‘. ■ V

•

\ 9 jac. Selby replied • If’ou shuft not *• chink me too proud, my, good friend, « to be flwige^ K JOB, bx refuftl,, ^ but I sh^tl not be^afy fn my mind, if ^ ] do fk)t fettleeyi^y ishng,; lest I irhay ** be taken off suddenly, aid leave ar ’ L \ < .• ‘ *’ .J ‘ ^ st rears which may ifever b? <fifcharged.j

C >._. % ! ■ f ■ Lewfon answered, f rfiall never ask « them. I shall be amply rewarded ‘‘■ ‘ .i if I can but prevail on Miss Fanny ta honour me, one day, with her hand, st when she has got over all her prepof* « _ sessions in favour of Mr. Lumley.” 4 7 •* As to Lu ‘nley, “ said Mr. Selby, I hope sht has too much sense to pine any longer after Such a villain: biit were 1 V ft \ y tre, jbltrifey TO 175 % « « ** were (he never to think, q him any! more there are insuperable objee* • V tions; objections better to beguestesh j st thftn talked ofd* ^ * I ■ ‘■’ ^. ‘ • ■■* 0.; I 1 ‘, ‘ ■ ■ i t ’r Vi’^ * I am afraid that you mifunderstang { ‘ ■. * ‘ ‘, ’ r ‘ ** ‘ \ >’’ * t * • T; ■> tpe, Sir; “ replied Lewfon y but were Wiy worst apprehensions to be welj.^ groundet^ still she would be dearer ‘‘ to me than any other woman : still ^ ‘ ‘, ‘ A’ rn, ^. |. st would I endeavour, send hope, to. I st make her happy.” r •.%’■’ tt ■ / : ‘■ ■.. ■
1. : V, ■ ‘ ^ ^ ^ ■ A… … ‘. •, < » e i. That is imppffible, “ Said Mr. Seshy. > fa ‘Ar *< Will you not give me leave to Speak
tt ** to her upon the Subjest which lies J ■ *. t nearest to my heart ?” : - V ♦ ^ 0 , You must do as you, please; .shift if she consents, stie is no longer shiy; ‘daughter.”.. * , S I 4 You *

1 t s r’ 176 ; You have not then friendship enough for me to wish me related to you ) You wrong me more than you cast ** conceive by talking in this manner ** my dear Lewfon j my daughter is’fo unfortunate as not to be deserving of you; she can never gain my consent 1 to make you unhappy: nor will she, I am persuaded, do you fo great an injury. Gould yott, • by any other I means, become my Son, I should glory j in Such a relationship: you will, I trust, I however, continue my friend –Lean j not Suffer you to be imposed upon.” tewson Sighed, grasped Mr, selby’s ‘ (hand, and Said, I will be ever your ‘‘ friend, and the friend of your dear • Fanny allb: that fatisfastion you will i not, cannot refuse me.”

He ^ • jr LI ili.

\ xhe JOURNEY,, londpn. ‘ . * He then appeared to give up thcipoint • at that time, but determined to. speak more fully to Fanny, when she was well enough to listen to him. ‘

V % tt pm’ ‘• f In the meanwhile Mr. Selby asked his Son’ what he intended to do with his wife. i j To abandon her, Sir, “ replied Gharles, since she has fo shamefully ‘ deceived me.” i I. ^ ^ I

t No, “ said Mr. Selby, that will not. j do, Charles : she will then, make an addition to her vices, by asting just the same part your mother has done, by running you deeply in debt. no tt as you cannot be divorced from het for want of witnesses—-neither st Lewfon nor I saw her in the arms I ^ ♦ of

t of another man, you must bear the C I ‘ punishment of your folly, and agree P / ^ ** to allow her enough to’ keep her from starving, advertife’ ‘that you • will pay » no debts she may contrast, and never see her again.” L r, I ‘- T, • f i ‘ ‘ L - ^… ‘ I Charles thankfully subscribed to thfe determinatioii bf his father’s. : ‘’ • ■. st. ■ sh. ^ I *. Mr. selby’s next business was to acquaint his wife with his will. He j acquainted her immediately with it.i He “ordered her to prepare to fet out for the I farm the moment her daughter’fanny was, able to go through the journey: telling her, at the same time, that she ‘ must live there in a much narrower stcompafs, and wkh greater economy » than ever, as she had obliged him to pay for her extravagances. Mrs. \ %

Mrs. Selby, at first:, stew into a violent passion, and Said, that she did not feaow what he meant –She descended, however, afterwards, from her altitudes, and shed some hypocritical tears ~then rising again, she assured him, in a pretty loud key, that she had not had a Single thing’ but what..eyery woman of fashion thought quite proper: adshng, that people might as well be out of the world as want everything in it. To the conclusion of this^fpeecjh Mr. Selby replied –‘‘ For once in your life your are in the right, and as I am quite of your way of thinking, I ‘‘ am determined that you shall, for the live quite out of the wqrld^ I will carry you down with the rest of the family to –shire ist a few days.” ‘* , 16,, Here
Flere Maria interposed, and desired

L. ‘.

to be excepted,, as she hated nothing fd much as the country.
- _. ‘ ■ ■ ■ • ■ S » ‘ And pray how are yqu to fubfist, ‘Child ?” Said her father. –I shall not pay for your board in London.” \ 4 i ■ • r I : She pertly replied –I donst Siip* i pofe.you will:. but I shall run the I st risque of providing for linyself; –I
  
  I had much rather starve in London, than live III the greatest plenty ia’the st country.” -0 I i If it is poshble for to be Such a fool, child, “ Said Mr. Selby, / •st should be a Still greater one, to Suffer cst you to ast in So wrong headed, fo st senseless a manner. As your father, I have a claim to your duty, and shall .1 find * w 9 . isi find a method to make you obey me, st or expest nothing more from ftsf hands.” tt s i tt •. . Maria only pouted an answer. ft • i. ■ ‘ ‘ ^ t Just when Jhe and her mother were flouncing out of the room, Mrs. Jeffers Son entered it. –’ ‘ … • ‘’’ ^ ■ So, Mrs. Selby, “ cried she, flumping down in the first chair she came to, I ^ which happened to she at Mr. selby’s back –You have made a fine ^ do London—-have brought your ♦ ^ % 9 hogs to a fine market, as people say, _ / ^ ^ But ’tis all your own fault. You ( never would listen to my advice : yoii bade me go out of your house’ the ■ last time 1 was here; and I shoiild not have fubjested myself a second tirrie to

^ st to the same affront, but but of pur

‘ st friendihip to you and your ehildrenv If st –Indeed, to be shre, as Mr. Jefferson I I ■ says, ’tis no manner of business of I ‘■ I, mine; but only as I have always had I st a regard tor your facher r poor man! he is dead and gone. Siei little thinks I * as hcxw his granci daughters are • W’ –res, and his gra^dfbn going to [; i be hanged. Lord have mercy upon us I IS he could but; look out of his I! # i st: grave, and See what you are all come st to! –and, indeed, though I could st not divine all this, I thought as how st ino good would come of your being st So great with my Lady Lumley, and st shch tag rag of quality, while you st’ tolled up your nose at the city; yet I st would have you to know, Mrs. sel by, that, let them say what they will, st we have got all the money, and can st afford ♦ / t thi: Journey” TO London, i&j P st ’afford to spend ten shillings, aye, twert i st ty, to their one : this comes of youf st holding up your head higher than st your neighbours. –People who have st but a little, Mrs. Selby, should live st within their rn^ieans, and not copy st high ffowni gentry, who never knew st what they would be at themfelves4 st and therefore I donst know how you st should, who, though you did all you st could tofimitate them, were no more st like them than a raven is like a fwani f st And yet it was nothing but My Lady and Your Ladyship, from morning 4 st tonight—-Lady Lumley does this, ’ i st and st Lady Lumley does that” * –God st forgive me! Mrs. Selby, but I look st upon myself as good as my Lady st Lumley every day I rise, and, per st haps, have as much to spend; and yet, heaven be praised I. I have nei st there / 1 184 . I [ -‘ there whore nor rogue in wy family, I V nor in Mr. jefferson’s neither–— ^ st, fo says he, my dear –for it was hest told no as how your fon was in new st gate for debauching miss Lumley, ‘st while young lumley had got youf’ st daughter with child; that) Smith, that st notorious villain, had done The Same I st by Mist Polly; and io the two young ! st men fit; but as your Son Bred first I - st upon the young ’squire Lumley, it S st was reckoned a murder, and folie i must be tried for his life.” \ \

* \ ■ Z.. je.r VI 0 ‘ ‘.. - ‘ ) - ■ ..D ’’ > < ^ • * i ■ C ‘i ■. L; .1 I I ‘ * Here Mr. selby’s patience was quite exhausted –Coming forward,, he cried’ * f - ! out in a very sharp tone, looking sternly at her –st You have been telling a pack ■ .st of lies. Madam: .and, whoever you I , ‘st are, you have acted a very unfriendly, .st a cruel., part, : by, coming tp dist

P turb 4 9 *. . 185 I * 0 st turb the peace of ray farailyi As’ ‘‘ the father of my children, whom’ st you have’ wantonly afpersed, 1 insist st upon your leaving my house direcstly 5 ‘ st Linfist too; on your unfayirig all that st you have Said j I insist also uponr st your contradi<sting, upon your owst st knowledge, every fcandalons report st of this kind that you have heard, and st shall hereafter hear i or elfe I shall bd st’ empowered to bring an adirion against st Mr, Jefferson for defamation *

The first opening of Mr. selby’s fpeech made Mrs. Jefferson stare; when he finistied it with a threat which she well’ understood, she rose togo : but, before she left the room, she stopped shorty and Said—-Lord; Mr. Selby, who’ would have thought that what I have’ st .mentioned is not true I Indeed it wad • y told r / Ji I ft e • % The Journey, \ ^ told me as a fast.. there is ‘cf ■ st believing anything one hears now a – ». * - • ! days. –If one were to believe what tt I st people feys; all the world is no t i’ st better shan it shouldv be: and lb, if i st have done anyjh^ltni Jn telling yo ^ folks say,; I am shrty for it andi I st desire you would not tell Mr. Jester – st Son; for he is always Saying, ayes f‘ this comes of your; tatlling’ – »apd Viili 5‘ hold Ssteh an hai^gvf abqu^ wc^n^nf f , st tongues as is enough tqi jnak«: ast. body mad.” ^ V ■ I C. ■ ■ - r \ iu’ r; L tri] \ },. ■,, st So much the better, “ Said Mrs. < ‘t ■ Selby; who, feeing her ready to make Subrmffions, - was resolved to have her ‘ sharrc in humbling her, and to bring hef. 1 down to a level with herfels –sho * ; st much the better, 1 Say –There ought to be a stop put to Such Scandalous st language. 4 Th e j6tr rni: y ¥6 Lon don. language, which is not fit toi’ be st used by one Gentlewoman to an st other. Biit you arc no Gentlewoman V I st you nevev one, but some low, st Vulgar cteatijre, whd got a little u st ib the v(^orid, ‘fi body Rliows how V r st and fo yoli take upon you to best Spat ter “ever bbdy better than your st self. Ast whaftoh have Said of st me txid ifinbbenf “dhild MA st sejby wih Sly foib st it; but ^ raffing bn Lady Lumley, st you have been guilty of can. magi st and Sir Thomas may, play the devil st with you.” o

» - •’. ‘ st Come, come, “ replied Mr; selby* interpofing, st there has been ehougfi st Said on both fidcs, “ • ^ ‘■ ■■ ‘^’no . ‘ No, Indeed, but there has not, answered Mrs. Selby; for 1 would; st have you to know,. Mr. Selby, that st I can defend my cause Mith. words, as st well as you can.with; and st, I will not be Scolded in my own jioufo V by any woman in England.” r ‘ ‘ ■_ st Your own house !’* Said Mrs jef jerson –I wonder how you came by K y house i –But indeed T believe you nest ver had one; for you shave not paid st a single farthing of rent for it yet.; st and therefore you have no more right st to be here than I have, and 1 will stay st for awyou, Yes –I am not afraid of Sir •st Thomas, nor her ladyship neither –• st My husband is as sood as them at st any time. –I hate to hear of shesh st shabby genteel people mentioned, .st when his well known that they are st over The jotjrney: to London. 1 • st over head and ears in debt; and my st husband never owed a farthing in st his life.” . ■ ‘’ ■ ‘. ‘ t ‘ ‘ d -. ft st And stis that which makes you sh st fancy, I suppose” “ Mrs. Selby –^ st ’tis time, therefore, you were taken st down; and Lady Lumley and I tossed gether shall make you pay for your st prating. If mr.’jefferson has more st money than he knows what to do st with, we shall find a way to make st him part with it; and then you may st become as shabby genteel as other st people.” f; ‘ t « ‘st No, “ replied Bvirs. jefferson, who was now worked up to a pretty high pitch –st No, Mrs. Selby –Mr. Jeffer, st Son and I shall never be reduced fd low as you and Lady Lumley : we st shall ^ * / t / I a i / igo The joiirney ra London. ’ > shall never lose more at cards than wt 0 can afford to pay; never be obliged to pawn my person for my purse; nor my clothes to pay for my going to the playhouse.. B shall never have Such a half starved, ‘ ragged, tatter de mal st lion family; my. daughters women the town, and my fons jlip gibhetsp • *■ • Here Mr, Selby could hold nq longer. –Just as his enrageei wife was going to V * ■> retort wkh a whole torrent of abuse, lie J caught Mrs, jefferson by the arm with «.nc’handr –(laying the other across his I wife’s mouth) and desired her to walk downstairs; telling her, in a whisper, while he led her out, that if he heard any more of her from any quarter whatever, he should come upon Mr. Jefferson direly: : desiring her, at the same time, as she valued her own and her f k \ r « I , igi \ 4 ifeer hushand’s quiet, to be Silent about IAS family. • tt at the door Mr. Selby met xewson, accompanied - by Chafles, who had ibeen in search of his wife, during the. above altercation, in order to acquairrt her with what she .was to expect;; not finding her at home, he and Lewfon both agreed, that it vras better to send ^ lawyer to her, as anything he said might b misinterpreted. . r, ^ i While lewson was consuking wiih Mr. Selby how to ast in Such a manner as might render Charles the least liable to be troubled with his wife, Fanrty, >whdv from her fibk. chamber, had heard severy word that pasted between Mrs, Jefferson and her mother, and who found her fears confirmed,, who found her re puta

1 pii tation as well as peace lost forever, ♦ was too much shocked by the blow not to fink under it. Her fever, which had been cohfiderabiy abated, returned with double violence, and she was again confined to her bed. i Lew’son, who had, every day, begged to speak to her, and had, every day, been refused, was now, at her own tt ^ 9 request, permitted to See her. He approached her with a concern and tenderness in his looks and manner which tt must have very much affected her, had she been in a different state ‘of mind. After having expresfed his sorrow for her Sufferings, and his wishes for her recovery, he ventured to mention the de iiglitsul expedations he once indulged of having it in his power to make her happy: : that he could not yet i prevail 0 0 N y I . 195 prevail on himself to give up his ex pedations entirely, as he had heard that \ she was to return with her father to the farm, and as he hoped to have an opportunity to render himself one day ac tt ceptable to her. The wishes in this speech, warmly, and with the most apparent sincerity, with a modest diffidence, at the same time, delivered, awakened every soft fcnsation in her heart; and her strong

emotions were visible in every feature of her face. She now regretted, truly regretted her having refused Such a man,, and still more forcibly felt her folly, as. she had suffered fo severely, in consequence of her refusal. Tears for a while choked her utterance –As soon as she could Speak, she made her generous lover the most gratesul acknpw – vol. II K ledgements .TI f \ 194 ledgements for his esteem and affedliofl for her, and discovered So much contrition, that it’excited the tenderest transports in his breast. Snatching her hand, nnd pressing it with ardour to his bosom, he exclaimed –st I shall yet be

happy then I wanted nothing in the 4 • * world to’ complete, my Selicity, but st dear Fanny Selby; and she shall be st mine.” How I Mr. lewson, “ replied the wretched girl, drawing her hand from his, and looking earnestly on him st Would you marry a prostitute And could I, who owe So much for your generous par to me, could I permit you to be imposed upon No, Sir –It is impossible;

A / ft . 195 st A prostitute!” cried he –Then, pausing awhile, and recovering himsels –* If there was a possibility of your st deserving that name, miss Selby, you st was not a willing one, you was drawn st in by a man who pretended to love st you, and who deceived you. Let st him, therefore, who really loves you, st and who will never deceive you, re 9 st pair the injury you have received.” i st Never, Sir, “ answered stie –st I can st never repay Such distnterested love So meanly –No, Mr. lewson, I thank st you again for all the friendship you have shown me and mine X let it be const tinued to my father and my brother, st who will want it all. As for me, I shall soon cease to exist; but though st I cannot want your assistance here, let st me entreat you to offer up your serve K 2 vent • ♦ ft j 196 . I ! vent prayers to the Father of Mercy, st that he may vouchsafe to pardon a st poor repenting Tinner, who dares not st herself implore forgiveness’ ‘’ was affeifled beyond expression

- ^ ^ * at her situation, and fevereiy pained at fo total a destrudtion of His fond hopes ^ He promised, however, as Soon as he could articulate,. to comply faithsuliy with her every request; urging her, at the Same time, in the most persuassve manner, not to give herself up to despair, but to hope for better days. . ti She made no answer—-was almost I Spent indeed with her encreassng disorder, and with the extreme anxiety of her 4 mind, –She was glad indeed he left her; for knowing it was not in her \ ‘ * power to reward his love, his assiduities about t I

about her only embarrassed her, and doubled her other distresstes –She had a very bad night after her interview with Lewlbn. L The next morning, desiring to speak with her sister, she told her, that her jndifcreet attachment to Lumley had not only been the cause of her own disquiet anef ruin, but had nearly brought her brother to an ignominious death –I have brought shame upon my family, and distresses upon them; I cannot Survive them –Let my unhappy fate ‘ be a warning to you. If you ever have been –if you are –in the situa in which I was with Lumley, 00 ft st get out of it, for the love of heaven, st as fast as you can, before it brings st you into the deplorable state in which st you now behold me. –I tremble to st find myself on the brink of another K 3 st world tt B SI * H 1.98 . ■ ‘ r world –May my example save you from the pangs I at this moment en st dure!” I Here Fanny stopped. She was too. weak, and too much affetsted by what I she had spoken, to proceed. But what was her shrprife, what was her concern, L to see her stster, on pulling back the I; | curtain to look for her (finding that she i did not answer her) to see her, instead iji j ^ ^ ■ f! of paying any attention to her, pow I : dering her hair at the glast; to hear her

1

ji humming a favourite opera sling!

il

| ■ i I j A groan from the distrelled Fartny, however, obliged Maria to leave what I; / I she was about. Turning towards the i bed, she beheld her in the agonies of I death. –Instead of going to offer her ‘ the smallest assistance, she ran into the \ 1 parlour,

/ parlour, and exclaimed –Lord bless st me! I wonder you will not come –I st believe Fanny is dead.” ft st Heaven forbid, “ replied Mr. Selby, hurrying towards the door. • I Charles stopped him. –st This will ■st be too much for you, Sir; let me st to her alone: I am now accustomed – st to horror.” He then stew to the fa – tal chamber,. Poor Fanny could only say –st My st brother, be a comfort to our good father, and” “ – – – With word she’ icxpired in his arms 9 The sorrow which Mr. Selby and * lewson felt upon this melancholy occasion is not to be described; and K 4 ‘ Charles i tt % 200 . Charles had a considerable share in it; but this addition to the troubles of the family fo disgusted Maria, that while they were grieving for her sister, she, unobserved, packed up her own clothes, and the best .which belonged to Fanny, and made off. Mrs. Selby, who had not discovered more concern for Fanny than Maria had, was, at the Same time, engaged in writing a letter to Captain.dermot, to acquaint him with all her grievances, and to let him know, that she should be the most miserable creature upon earth, if she was obliged to go and live in the country. She concluded with a broad hint, strongly signifying, that it would be more agreeable to her to remain in London, if she could meet wdth any gentleman N e I N • tt . 201 I gentleman who would be ready and willing CO support her. tt * • ■ ^ r, * • 4 By the time the hour of supper arrived, this curious epistle was ready for the post; but thinking that its conveyance by the post would neither be fafc enough, nor expeditious enough, she dispatched Sukey with it. As the cook could not leave her kitchen, Mr. Selby began to call loudly for Maria, to go and sit by her sister, who was just laid out upon the bed. t I ^ r tt It was then Maria was first missed, ‘ * and Charles undertook the melancholy office. As soon as the cook had sent ud the supper, she was Sent off in Search of Maria, 1 t tt IV 202 , Maria, as there was no footman, Mri K ; Selby having turned him away the day I after his arrival in London. f Several days having passed without \ bringing any tidings of Maria, Mr. Selby and Charles began to be very uneasy. The latter,” by making inquiries about her of all their town acquainb ance, gained an infight into smith’s * character, and found that he subsisted’ chiefly by furnishing those men with fresh, girls, who could afford to pay for them’,, and taking unfair advantages of raw,. ft ignorant adventurers at play he von • therefore, that he had not recommended Maria’to somebody as a. mitt

stress; but he was told, that though she was quite a new object in town, her manners were So licentious, and that she had So little sense of shame, that every man would . 20^ would believe her –(merely for want of the modest appearance which renders even women of pleasure more alluring) to be an old Jiager, and not worth the purchase. That sort of assurance, however, though disgusting to many, is not So to all. There are Some who are pleased with it. / Maria, in her flight from home, met George Lumley coming out of a bagnio. She accosted him with all the impudence of a common prostitute, and asked him to give her a glass of wine, as her Spirits were low. Upon this Salutation, looking in her face, by tl^ light of the lamp close to him, he recolledted her, though he had been drinking champagne till he could hardly See –st Whew! –what? –Maria st Selby cried he –st No, no –• ■ / st child I s 204 , » I « » st child, ni have nothing to do with st you; I shall have your brother call me st to an account with a pistol: no body st will dare trust you now, my dear.” st that’s hard indeed, “ replied she; st but if that is the cafe, I will tell him, st plainly that I hate all confinement, and tt st will sooner perish like a woman of st spirit, than be moped to death at the st farm, under his management.”

4

0 ‘

st Bravely resolved, girl, “ cried a young man of fashion, who was following Lumley; I take you at your word –Then, pushing her into the bagnio before him, he kept her there all the time her father and brother were in search of her; and being soon heartily tired of her, left her to find out a new keeper.

m

0

Maria,

/

\

tt

f

. 205

Maria, instead of discovering any concern at being deserted by him, told him, that she was quite as weary of Amas he could be of her; that dear variety ever was, and ever would be,

her choice, and that she was above be

1

ing corihned to any man. -

. ^ r

\

Her father and brother at last met with her, but found it imposhble to convince her that she was seeking her own destruction. She told them, that the quiet retired life she must lead at the farm would be death to her; that ■she had never known any joy till the

Lumleys came down to – – – – – – – shire;

and that a life of pleasure was the only lise for her.

\

In answer to this free declaration, they told her, that though such a life

fi might,

N

V

So ,

\

might, possibly, appear the most pleasant one to her, She would but too Soon find there was no lise could be So

I

wretched as the life of a prostitute.

f

She answered—-may fancy fo; but if there was not something agreeablcp in it, fo many’ wo and some of them in very high life, would not fo eagerly. prefer it —

And this 1 am Sure of, it is impofii ble for me to live like a woman of fashion at home; and as I like no other style of life, I vv’ill rather enjoy that, tho’ for ever fo short a time, than mope away years of me

and if I am carried down ft c to —-shire, I will certainly leave the. place as soon as I can, and \ come to London.” – 4. ft .. * Mr. ft f f i V % ♦ I 4 . 207 Mr. Selby was extremely shocked to hear his daughter talk in this way: he forced her, however, into a coach, carried her home, and locked her up, till he went down to the farm. When fanny’s funeral was over, Mr. Selby put Maria into a coach with her mother, (who received not a single hint of consolation from Captain Dermot before she Set out). When he got down to his farm, he disposed of a great part of his estate, paid all his wife’s debts, and fettled what i*emained on his Son, that he might be able to pay Sally Cox –for So he ever called it –her allowance. By proceeding in this manner, Mr. Selby made Such a reduction of his income, that Mrs. Selby was obliged to be content with the bare necessaries of life, instead of 2 the 9 f I I t I _ t 208 . the many comforts she enjoyed before she became desirous of imitating Lady Lumley. ^) As to, Lady Lumley, she and her family were far from being happy. Sir Thomas, by his return to London that winter, which had proved fo unfortunate to the Selbys, had spent all, and more than he had saved in his fummer retreat. He was, therefore, driven to a small estate he had near the land’s End. • –There he and his family were necesh tated, urged by ceconomicai motives, to spend the remainder of their days. In tloat retirement the miss Lumleys became old women without being wives, having neither fortunes nor characters to recommend them. The eldest fon, the seducer of poor Fanny Selby, had it no longer in his power to boast of any ‘ conquests • • a / 0 • . 209 conquests of that kind, or to triumph over the expiring virtue of any other fond female, as the wound which he had received from Charles Selby had entirely disabled him from having any farther amorous connedlions with the. fair sexto whom his brother fell a martyr in another manner., \ Maria Selby a(5ted in the way she intended: eluding all her father’s vigilance, she returned to london, became a common prostitute, and died in a coui dition, too shocking to be described. * With, regard, to Mrs. Selby, as she could not procure a Separate allowance from her husband,, was obliged to remain, at the farm. There she gave herself fo many airs of a woman of fashion,. that she was,, in. consequence of them, $ y i N 210 .. them, treated with the utmost contempt: by that contempt, added to her plain style of life, she was sufficiently punished for her ridiculous desire to imitate % those people who of all others were the most improper for her imitation. t Charles, having taken orders, met with a woman of character and fortune who took a fancy to him, and would have married him y but he was under 5 necessity of disappointing both her and ’himself; as Sally, tho’ the most vicious of women, happened to outlive her rival. in his affections, lewson, - who never thoroughly recovered the loss of Fanny, spent his time. in consoiing Mr. Selby; and, dying soon after Mrs. Selby, left him and his font in possession of his whole fortune, 0 T H E E N D.

BOOKS printed for’f. and J. Noble.’

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Early Novels Digital Editions Rare eighteenth-century fiction

The Journey to London, or the History of Selby-Family.

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Early Novels Digital Editions
Rare eighteenth-century fiction