A Wife's Duty Part 9

"No, at Dover; but, as soon as it is known that he is off, I expect to be arrested for the money; and for me to raise it is impossible; but you, Helen--"

"Yes, yes--I understand you," I replied, speaking with great difficulty: "the legacy--I will drive instantly to the bankers--and take it, take it all, if you wish."

Here my voice and even my eye-sight totally failed me, and almost my intellects; but I neither fell nor fainted.--Miserable suspicions and certain anxiety came over me, and in one moment life seemed converted into a dreary void. My situation alarmed Pendarves almost to phrensy. He rung for the servants, sent for the nearest surgeon, without my being able to oppose any thing he ordered--for I could not speak: and I was carried to my room, and even bled, before I had the power of uttering a word.

"The lady has undergone a violent shock," said the surgeon; and the conscience-stricken Seymour ran out of the room in an agony too mighty for expression.

I was now forced to swallow some strong nervous medicine; and at length, feeling myself able to speak again, I e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed "Thank G.o.d!" and fell into a pa.s.sion of tears, which considerably relieved me.

My kind but officious maid had meanwhile sent for Mrs. Pendarves, who eagerly demanded the original cause of my seizure.

"Dearest Helen, do you tell your aunt," said Seymour, "how it was."

"I had been fretting for two days," I replied, "on account of my mother's silence; and while I was talking to Seymour, this violent hysterical seizure came over me. Indeed, I had experienced all the morning, my love, previous to your coming in, a most unusual depression." This statement, though true, was I own deceptive; but I could not tell all the truth without exposing my husband.--Oh! how fondly did his eyes thank me! My aunt was satisfied; she insisted on sitting by my bedside while I slept,--for an anodyne was given me,--and I consented to receive her offered kindness. Nay, I must own that, in the conscious desolation of my heart at that moment, I felt strangely soothed by expressions of kindness, and was covetous of those endearments from her which before I had wished to avoid. But my hand now returned and courted the affectionate pressure of hers; and I seemed to cling to her as a friend who, if she knew all, would have sorrowed over me like a mother; and while sleep was consciously stealing over me, I was pleased to know that she was watching beside my pillow.

I had forbidden Pendarves to come near me, because the sight of his distress prevented my recovery, and perfect quiet was enjoined.

But, when I was asleep he would not be kept from the bedside; and he betrayed so much deep feeling, and exhibited so much affection for me, that when I woke, and desired to rise and dress, as I was quite recovered, my aunt was lavish in his praise, and declared she was now convinced he was the best of husbands.

Pendarves would fain have staid at home with me that day; but I insisted on his going out, as I thought it would be better for us both; and I told him with truth I preferred his aunt's company to his. Our next meeting alone was truly painful; for we could neither of us advert to my excessive emotion. He could not explain away its cause, nor could I name it: but he, though silent, was affectionate and attentive, and I tried to force my too busy fancy to dwell only on what I knew and saw, and not to fly off to sources of disquiet, which spite of appearances might really not exist.

The next morning, as soon as breakfast was over, we drove to the banker's, resumed the whole of the deposit, and I insisted that Pendarves should accept it all. This he was very unwilling to do--but I was firm, and my mind was tranquillized by his consenting at last to my desire. Yet, I think I was not foolish enough to suppose I could buy his constancy.

One thing which I said to him I instantly repented. I asked him whether Mrs. Saunders was likely to remove to London. He said, he did not know: "But if she does, what then? O Helen! can you suppose I will ever see her now?" he added.

"And why not?" thought I, when he quitted me--"If it was ever proper to see her, why not now? And why should I seem to be accusing him, by appearing solicitous to know whether he would see her or not?"

Alas! his reply only served to make me more wretched; but, fortunately I may say, my mother's continued silence made a sort of diversion to my thoughts, and subst.i.tuted tender for bitter anxiety.

That very day the demand was made on my husband by the creditor of Saunders, and while he was gone out with this man on business in bustled my kind but mischievous aunt.

"How are you to-day," said she, "my poor child? but I see how you are--sitting like patience on a monument, smiling with grief!"

"With grief! dear aunt?"

"Yes: for do you think I do not know all? Oh, the wicked man!"

"Whom, madam, do you call wicked?"

"Your husband, child: has he not been keeping up an acquaintance with that girl, who married? and has he not been bound for her husband? and is not the man run away, and he liable to be arrested for the debt? and where he can get the money to pay it I can't guess--I am sure my Mr.

Pendarves will not pay it. Nay, _I_ know 'tis all, all true--my maid, I find, met him walking in the park with her, and the creditor is my maid's brother."

Here she paused exhausted with her own vehemence; and I replied, "I am sorry, madam, that you listen to tales told you by your servant: I am also sorry that a transaction which though rash was kind, is known to more persons than my husband and me. I know as well as you that Pendarves visited at Mrs. Saunders's lodgings, and he was very likely seen in the park with her. To the money transaction I am also privy, and I a.s.sure you my Mr. Pendarves need not apply to yours on this or, I trust, on any occasion; for the creditor has been here, and he is paid by this time."

"Then he must have borrowed the money, for I know he has lost a great deal lately."

"Mrs. Pendarves," said I, rising with great agitation, "I will not allow you to speak thus of the husband whom I love and honour. I tell you that he has paid the creditor with his _own_ money; and if you persist in a conversation so offensive to me, I will quit the room."

"How! this to me? Do you consider who I am--and our relations.h.i.+p?"

"You are the wife of my great uncle, madam, no more; and were you even my mother, I would not sit and listen tamely to aspersions of my husband, and I must desire that our conversations on this subject may end here."

I believe there is nothing more formidable while it lasts, than the violence of those who are habitually mild--because surprise throws the persons who are attacked off their guard; and it also magnifies to them the degree of violence used.

The poor little woman was not only awed into silence, but affected unto tears; and I was really obliged to sooth her into calmness, declaring that I was sure she meant well, and that I had never doubted the goodness of her heart.

The next day brought the long expected letter from my mother; and its contents made all that I had yet endured light, in comparison; for they alarmed me for the life of my child! She was, however, declared out of danger for the present, when my mother wrote.

It is almost needless to add, that as soon as horses could be procured, Pendarves and I were on the road home.

I must pa.s.s rapidly over this part of my narrative. Suffice, that she vacillated between life and death for three months; that then she was better, and my husband left me to join Lord Charles at Tunbridge Wells, whither he had been ordered for his health; that he had not been gone a fortnight, when her worst symptoms returned, and my mother wrote to him as follows:

"Come instantly, if you wish to see your child alive, and preserve the senses of your wife! When all is over, your presence alone can, I believe, save her from distraction.

J. P."

He instantly set off for home, and arrived at a moment when I could be alive to the joy of seeing him; for my child had just been p.r.o.nounced better! But what a betterness! For six weeks longer, watched by us all day and all night with never-failing love, it lingered on and on, endeared to us every day the more, in proportion as it became more helpless, and we more void of hope, till I was doomed to see its last faint breath expire, and----no more on this subject--

I believe my mother was right; I believe that, dearly as I loved her, her presence alone would not have kept my grief within the bounds of reason: but the presence of him whose grief was on a par with mine, of him whom love and duty equally bade me exert myself to console, had indeed a salutary effect on me; and it at length became a source of comfort to reflect, that the object of our united regrets was mercifully removed from a state of severe suffering, and probably from evils to come. But my progress towards recovered tranquillity bore no proportion to Seymour's; for, when I was capable of reflection, I felt that in losing my child I lost one of my strongest holds on the affection of my husband. Consequently, the clearer my mind grew after the clouds of grief dispersed, the more vividly was I sensible of my loss.

I also became conscious that the habitual dejection of my spirits, which was pleasing to Seymour's feelings while his continued in unison with mine, would become distasteful, and make his home disagreeable, as soon as he was recovering his usual cheerfulness. Still, I could not shake it off--and by my mother's advice I urged him to renew his visit to Lord Charles, who was still an invalid.

To Tunbridge Wells he therefore again went, leaving me to indulge unrestrained that pernicious grief which even his presence had not controuled, and also to impair both my health and my person in a degree which it might be difficult ever to restore.

When Pendarves returned, which he did at the end of six weeks, during which time he had written in raptures of the new acquaintances which he had formed at the Wells, he was filled with pain and mortification at sight of my pale cheek, meagre form, and neglected dress.

What a contrast was I to the women whom he had left! And even his affectionate disposition and fine temper were not proof, after the first ebullitions of tenderness had subsided, against my dowdy wretched appearance, and my dejection of manner.

"Helen!" said he, "I cannot stand this--I must go away again, if you persist to forget all that is due to the living, in regard for the dead.

I have not been accustomed lately to pale cheeks, meagre forms, and dismal faces. I love home, and I love you; but neither my home nor you are now recognisable."

I was wounded, but reproved and amended: I felt the justice of what he said, and resolved to do my duty.

Soon after he told me he was going away again; and on my mother's gently reproaching him for leaving me so much, he replied that he could not bear to witness my altered looks, and to listen to my mournful voice.

While Pendarves was gone, I resolved to renew my long neglected pursuits. I played on the guitar; I resumed my drawing, and sometimes I tried to sing: but that exertion I found at present beyond my powers.

After three weeks had elapsed, Seymour wrote me word that he was about to return from the Wells with some new friends of his, who were coming to the mansion within four miles of us, which had been so long uninhabited, called Oswald Lodge. He said he should arrive there very late on the Sat.u.r.day night; but that after attending church on the Sunday to hear a new curate preach, whom they were to bring with them, he should return home.

I was mortified I own to think that he could stop, after so long an absence, within four miles of home; but I felt that I had lately made so few efforts for his sake, that I had no right to expect he would pay me an attention like this. But to repine or look back was equally vain and weak; and I resolved to act, in order to make amends for what I could not but consider an indolent indulgence of my own selfishness, however disguised to me under the name of sensibility, at the expense of my husband's happiness. And as six months had now elapsed since the death of my child, I resolved to throw off my mourning, and make the house and myself look as cheerful as they were wont to do.

I also resolved to meet him at the church, which was common to the parish whence he would come, and ours also, and not to sit, as I had lately done, in a pew whence I could steal in and out unseen; but walk up the aisle, and sit in my own seat, where I could see and be seen of others.

My mother meanwhile observed in joyful silence all my proceedings; and when she saw me stop at the door in the carriage on the Sunday morning, dressed in white, with a muslin bonnet, and pelisse, lined with full pink, and a countenance which was in a measure at least cheerful, she embraced me with the warmest affection, and said she hoped she should now see her own child again.

Spite, however, of my well-motived exertions, my nerves were a little fluttered when I recollected that I was going to encounter the scrutinizing observation of Seymour's new friends, who, if arrived, would no doubt, from the situation of the pew, see me during my progress to mine, which was opposite. They were arrived before me; for I saw white and coloured feathers nodding at a distance: but I remembered it was not in the temple of the Most High that fear of man ought to be felt, and I followed my mother up the aisle with my accustomed composure.