Maria, who was not without feeling, reminded her friends that Miss Vernon was in mourning.
“Yes,” agreed Miss Claudia Hamilton. “Miss Vernon cannot dance, but if she can play tolerably well, there is no reason she cannot oblige us. We do not expect anything like superiority of performance, only that she give us a minuet and a few lighter dances, and perhaps a reel to finish the evening. There can be no impropriety in that.”
Frederica deferred to her mother, who gave a nod of consent, and then sat down at the instrument, not at all sorry to be employed and very glad that she might oblige them without having to sing or dance.
To the chagrin of these fair petitioners, Miss Vernon performed so charmingly that the gentlemen began to compliment her upon the skill and expression of her playing when they ought to have been praising their partners’ grace and smiles.
Lady Vernon soon observed that to call Langford “lively” did not do it justice; each day was a perpetual quest for diversion. While the gentlemen were shooting, the ladies were obliged to set out on walking parties or picnics, or to drive the pair of phaetons round the park, or to join Eliza Manwaring when she called upon the neighbors and coaxed them back to Langford to drink tea or dine or partake of the evening’s tableaux vivants or dancing or music or card parties.
Lady Vernon concluded that the Manwarings must be very discontented with each other if they could not bear the prospect of dining en famille or passing an evening in quiet conversation, and she began to feel pity for Maria Manwaring. The uneasy union of her brother and his wife must give the poor girl a divided outlook toward matrimony; she could anticipate no pleasure in the prospect, and yet it was the only one that would remove her from a household where her brother paid court to every woman but his wife and a sister-in-law who urged the necessity of marrying upon her without exhibiting any pleasure in the state herself. Yet, to Miss Manwaring’s credit, she had not been made cynical or ill-tempered by living with her incompatible relations. Her disposition was resigned and gentle, her understanding was good, and a similarity in their natures began to draw her and Miss Vernon together. Maria found Frederica Vernon a far pleasanter companion than the Misses Hamilton, who desired to appear genteel and accomplished without either talent or application, and whose mother’s excessive flattery gave them a high degree of assurance without perfecting their abilities or refining their taste.
Maria and Frederica soon discovered that the subject of Sir James Martin was never a point of rivalry between them. Miss Manwaring had been persuaded that she ought to regard him as her object, though she had never thought of him with more than polite indifference. Frederica held her cousin in the highest esteem and yet laughed at the notion that anyone might think that he had never married because he meant to make her an offer of his hand.
As it was resolved between them that Sir James Martin was at liberty to marry anybody but themselves or each other, there was no obstacle to the two girls forming a sincere friendship.
chafer fifteen
Lady Vernon to Lady Martin
Langford, Somerset
My dear Aunt,
I am very sorry if you perceived any coldness from me in our last parting. Toward you, Aunt, there is no reproach or blame, for I know that you could not have prevented James from buying Vernon Castle. Upon further reflection, I have come to understand that a gentleman may do far worse to his family than to make them the objects of his generosity—but of that I will write no more, for you will be eager to hear how Frederica and I fare at Langford. Be assured that we have not been allowed to dwell upon the past or to contemplate the precarious state of our future. The present occupies the Manwarings completely, and they keep their company so caught up in parties and amusements and paying calls and receiving visitors, and cards and charades and dancing, that there is not a moment to reflect or to pine.
We have been no fewer than twelve at dinner every night, and on occasion as many as thirty! The society and to-do suit me only in one respect—they prevent Frederica’s spirits from sinking further. The oppression that marked her last weeks at Churchill Manor has lifted, chiefly through the attentions of Maria Manwaring. Her kindness and solicitude are very much to her credit, and her reward is a companion who is far superior to the Misses Hamilton, who have come to Somerset for a long visit.
At this time of year, Langford is the place to meet young men, and Lady Hamilton is determined that her daughters will not suffer Miss Manwaring’s fate—to be nearly two and twenty and not married. They have thirty thousand apiece, so I think that Lady Hamilton will let them go for as little as two thousand per annum if a bit of property, or the prospect of it, is thrown in. In disposition, the two eldest are conceited and above being pleased, and the youngest is so excessively pleased with everything that she is often restless and always noisy—the elder ones cannot bear exertion and the youngest has not the patience to sit still; their conversation is tiresome, when it is not silly, and it is not only the prejudice of a parent that leads me to think that any gentleman of worth and sense would sooner take Frederica for nothing than any of them with their thirty thousand pounds!
I want for nothing, save, perhaps, some relief from the attentions of Mr. Manwaring. For some weeks, he had been prudent, but now all reserve is gone and he is often unguarded. In the mornings, he can be avoided, as he must take the gentlemen out shooting or go into Taunton on business, but in the evenings, his attentions are so marked that they begin to kindle Eliza’s jealousy. When he addresses me directly, I keep the discourse from becoming a tête-à-tête by inquiring, “Are you of the same opinion as Mr. Manwaring, Lord Whitby?” or “Do you agree with our host that the summer was a very dry one, Mr. Reed?” until one of the Hamilton girls engages his conversation or he falls victim to their mother’s passion for cards.
Tomorrow, we will have another addition to the party—Alicia Johnson comes from London. Mr. Johnson, who generally confines his infirmities to home, had the ill luck to become afflicted while he was away, and will be laid up long enough to allow his wife to slip into Somerset for some diversion. If he were at home, he would likely oppose the visit, as he has not forgiven Eliza Manwaring for marrying against his wishes.
Frederica sends you her very best love and promises to write to you soon. In the meantime, I am commissioned to tell you, however, that the tuberoses at Langford are nothing at all beside those at Ealing Park.
Your affectionate niece,
Susan Vernon
It was not for many days after Mrs. Johnson’s arrival that she and Lady Vernon were able to take a turn around the park without Mrs. Manwaring converting their twosome into a walking party of five or six.
Mrs. Johnson immediately began to apologize for not coming down to Sussex for Sir Frederick’s funeral. “Mr. Johnson insisted that he was laid up with gout,” she declared. “I am persuaded that his gout is brought on or kept off at his pleasure. Three years ago, when I wanted him to try the waters at Bath, nothing would induce him to have a gouty symptom, and yet when the Hamiltons invited me to the Lakes, he was so laid up that I was obliged to remain in London to nurse him. And—tedious man!—he bears it all with such patience that I have not even the common excuse for losing my temper! But, my dear, how pale you look! Why, you have been here six weeks and you have not got back your color. Manwaring tells me that he means to keep you here until they go to town in February.”