MARY BARKER: "A WELSH STORY"
VOLUME 1 SUMMARY
All chapters are numbered in Roman capitals, with a short literary quotation after the chapter number- I have not usually quoted these, but a few quotations do appear, in maroon bold type.
All text in blue bold type is quoted directly from the novel.
Chapter navigation
Volume 1, chapter 1 (page 1) Heading by Rogers:
"The scenes of life, when present and confest
Stamp but the bolder features on the breast"
On scenes which detained "the lingering eye of taste," memory dwells with an enthusiastic delight: and in proportion to their distance from the eye, they become dear to the heart.
Thus do we recur to our infant days with more than childish pleasure; thus do we paint with fairy colours the scenes of youth; and nothing but what is present appears destitute of charms.
Such is the complaint of the child of sensibility, and the language of the man of reason.
Let then the fastidious critic and the sapient scholar despise the individual who employs the powers of imagination to make the present hour interesting, by engaging the heart. The smile of misery, or the tear of insensibility, shall offer the noblest vindication of such endeavours.
Aware that fashion and false taste have rendered other pictures than those of nature necessary in a novel, the writer who studies the human heart can only hope for readers whom fashion cannot prevail upon to neglect equally the human understanding.
In the characters of the possessors of the estates of Glendarran, some peculiarities (though not uncommon ones) existed, which rendered them useful subjects for contemplation; if amusement can be derived from the following display of them, their historian will be more than rewarded.
The author introduces us to Glendarran Castle, in Glamorgan, once owned by a lady who, early in life, married a gentleman in possession of immense estates, Sir Watkin Edwards, who was made a Peer on marriage, and an Earl soon afterward: Lord Glendarran. The lady died three years after the marriage, having borne him two children: Lord Margam, heir to the Earl's estate and title; and Lady Cecilia Margam, born 6 months before her mother's death, and heir by her mother's will to the Glendarran estate (which had a great parliamentary interest attached to it).
Cecilia spent most of her early life in London, and for 14 years the castle was unused: like a tale of better times, it was sinking into oblivion, noticed only by those whose expiring fancies added a double lustre to its beauties.
Young Lord Margam went to Westminster School at an early age; then Oxford; then spent more than twice as long as usual on the Grand Tour.
Lady Cecilia Margam, before she could speak, was consigned to the care of a most accomplished French governess, by whom she was instructed in every kind of knowledge necessary for an heiress of six thousand a year, till her Ladyship chose to be her own mistress; when Madame Le Brun was dismissed, and various women, who spoke various languages, succeeded in her post. Masters of the first fashion, as well as governesses of the first respectability, attended Lady Cecilia constantly, with whom she merely reserved the privilege of learning just as much as was pleasant to herself, and of obeying none of their instructions but what she thought proper and just, according to the humour she might be in; the effect of which, her actions must declare.
The only other residence of note near the Castle was Glendarran House, seat of the ancient Llewellyn family (descended from the Prince), the estate of which stretched to the sea. Mr Llewellyn too was a widower, dedicated to his chosen profession. Mr. Llewellyn was also a father; though, if, as a great writer says, "a parent's moral right can arise only from his property, and his religious right from his kindness," the relationship between him and his children was a very slight one.
Fortunately for them, chance effected what paternal anxiety was never exercised about. The governess, to whose care they were entrusted, was a woman qualified to train the infant mind; and as it was most convenient to their father, they resided with her at Glendarran House. Besides her two pupils, Mr. Llewellyn had a son; who being lineally descended from the prince, whose name and arms he bore, as well as allied in some degree to every ancient family in South Wales, it would have been considered as a kind of public degradation if he had been brought up to the practice of any profession; in truth, his father never harboured so mean a thought; Henry Llewellyn was therefore destined to spend a life of idleness and celibacy, till the death of his parent should enable him to enjoy the blessings of life.
After receiving a liberal education, and making the tour of Europe with his cousin, the Marquis of Brecknock, he returned to England in his twenty-fifth year, neither a fool nor a coxcomb.
Volume 1, chapter 2 (page 11) Heading anonymous:
"Can Vergil's verse, can Raphael's touch, impart..." etc.
When he returned, his father was living in town, his sisters at Glendarran House. Their beloved governess had died a few weeks earlier. Henry and the sisters Euphemia & Charlotte lived a retired country life, until their father (who had not been seen by his daughters for 2 years) called Henry to London for a few weeks.
The sisters would often visit a banqueting-house in the Castle woods, which had been a favourite place of the late Lady Glendarran, but for which the sisters had been given the keys. It had a music room, in which they had various instruments, kept in tune by their music master. On the day their brother left, they went there and Euphemia had just finished an air on the harp when to their great surprise a stranger entered the room. He apologetically introduced himself as Lord Margam, who had arrived at Glendarran the day before (and whom Charlotte immediately found interesting). He had brought with him a letter of introduction from their father, which he gave to Euphemia. After Tea, anxiously wishing for a repetition of those sounds which engaged the attention of his soul, Lord Margam walked round the room, noticed every instrument, touched the keys of the organ, and at length finding the language of the heart ineffectual in obtaining his wishes, he ventured to solicit in the most delicate manner which words afford, a tune from Euphemia.
Though she was ever obliging, she unnaccountably found that she had not then the power to oblige.
She hesitated- Charlotte ascribed it to modest reluctance, and joined her entreaties with Lord Margam's; but she replied, that she could not sing. He again importuned her; but she found the difficulty of compliance increase, and politeness withheld his further solicitation.
He insisted upon attending them home; the distance appeared unusually short to Euphemia, when they arrived at Glendarran House, and propriety demanded his taking leave; which he did with reluctance.
When he had left, they both agreed that he was worth further attention. He meanwhile wrote to his father (6 Jun 1790) to say how wonderful the estate was- particularly the banqueting house- and that his father's suggestion of spending the summer at Glendarran was sure to delight Cecilia. Over the next week, he found opportunities to get to know Euphemia better.
Volume 1, chapter 3 (page 23) Heading by Wither:
On 10 June, Cecilia sent Lord M a letter, announcing that she would indeed be coming to Glendarran for the summer.
I cannot say that I much like the thoughts of an old castle a hundred and fifty miles from the world; but as you, Ned, are a Christian, and a lover of elegance, I conclude that you would not wish to bury me. Therefore, I intend to relieve half the poor fellows in this place from the torments of my divine face and inexorable heart, by hardening the one, and softening the other, in the delightful scenes you picture. I mean to bring Fidelle with me, and expect much fun in seeing him chase the nanny-goats down the sides of the mountains. I am very happy that large hats are the ton, as the scorching sun, which I conclude is the greatest enlivener of the picture, would entirely destroy my complexion in so long an exposure; for you know I think it prejudicial to wear white always ...
She supplied a great deal of London gossip, and looked forward to her coming of age next summer, when she promised she would make herself as famous as the remarkable Nest, daughter of Justin-ap-Gweregant-ap-Cadifer-ap-Collivin-ap-Tagno. The servants were to set out immediately, her father the next Monday, and she last.
P.S. Horrid news since you left town. Lord Cue completely dish'd- Sir Simon Dasher quite smash'd- Lady Dreadnought ruinated- justices knocked up the tables!- nothing but confusion!- Schemer is going to plead bankruptcy to save himself- half the world will be ruined. Thank Heaven, I always hated and detested cards and gaming!
When Lord Margam reported Cecilia's decision to the Misses Llewellyn, they were impatient to see him in a more relaxed social gathering.
Volume 1, chapter 4 (page 31) Heading by Dyer:
"Ever charming, ever new,
When will the landscape tire the view?"
Lord Glendarran made the trip to the Castle as planned. Cecilia left London the next day, with Mrs Gunnings (who knew a little about Wales) and her 2 daughters (one named Emma), Cecilia's "Abigail"- Madame Chapone, with attendant, and Mrs Gunnings' maid, plus three footmen. Cecilia was impressed by the scenery, and delighted in Mrs Gunnings' explanations of sights.
"And, oh that verdant mead! See, Lady Cecilia! Count those numberless flocks of sheep that repose on its fragrant carpet. Really, I am quite transported with the country! Wales certainly reminds me of the golden age, and the millennium, and all the beautiful things that one reads of in history."
"Indeed it is quite entertaining," replied her Ladyship; exclaiming, as they passed a church-yard, "See, Mrs. Gunnings! only see what neat people! they make a garden of the church-yard."
"That," said Mrs. Gunnings, "is a Welsh custom which I forgot to tell your Ladyship of. Every lover, or friend, I assure you, strews the grave of the departed with flowers."
"Then I am determined," protested Lady Cecilia, "to die in Wales! Oh, how beautiful to have one's grave strewed with flowers!"
"And then," continued Mrs. Gunnings, "they renew them weekly; a lover, or a widow, in Wales, think nothing of riding ten miles, at all seasons, to adorn their beloved's grave!"
"Delightful!" exclaimed Lady Cecilia: "how I should rejoice to see poor Lord Peppermint, or little Colonel Epaulette, riding on one of these Alps, through a rattling thunderstorm on a Welsh poney, with a leek in his hat, to strew my grave with flowers!- ha! ha! ha!- or, poor faithful souls, after they had paid their respects to my happy shade, to see them lose their road in a snow-drift, or break their necks down one of those precipices!- ha! ha! ha!- Positively I shall expire with laughing! Oh, how droll it would be!"
Emma's elder sister was hoping that the local men would also be scenic. On arriving at the inn for the last night of their journey, they found that the Duke of Monmouth's family had taken all the rooms, but were advised of alternative accommodation 10 miles away. Taking (at Cecilia's insistence) six men to guide and protect them, their coach set off into the thundery night.
Mrs. Gunnings began to tell stories of benighted travellers; her younger daughter exclaiming, at the conclusion of every doleful tale, "Dear me, how shocking!" Lady Cecilia screaming every time the coach jolted, and Miss Gunnings (as a mean of silencing Mrs. Gunnings's eloquence) crying, "Lord, mother, what stuff! it's enough to petrify one!"
In the intervals of silence, each sat trembling at the phantoms of her own imagination, till the lightining, which now darted in vivid flashes, afforded some real cause for alarm. Lady Cecilia declared, that she would no longer remain in the coach; but the thunder becoming louder every moment, and a tremendous shower falling, prevented her from executing her intentions. She then insisted upon having all the windows down, affirming that glass attracted the lightning; Mrs Gunnings said, that an eminent philosopher assured her that glass repelled it.- The assertions of all the philosophers in the kingdom would have had little effect on her opponent, who persisted in having all the windows down; by which means they had a current of air from three points, and the rain beating in upon them till they were completely wet.
Terror had taken entire possession of the mind of every female of the party, when the coach suddenly stopped. The postillions endeavoured to silence Lady Cecilia's screams, by assuring her that there was nothing the matter, only one of the traces was broken, and they must take off a pair of horses. The rain now abated, and, as she leaned forward to give directions, she beheld that they were riding along the side of a steep mountain; she started to the other side of the carriage, declaring that they must all be lost, when she perceived the sea rolling its tempestuous billows, mountains high, against the cliff on whose summit they were. Her ungoverned fear, at that moment, seemed approaching to madness.
Several arguments with the coachman later:
Lady Cecilia at last declared, that they should all be murdered; which, though Mrs. Gunnings was not wholly free from the suspicion of, yet perceived the extreme danger of betraying such a fear, as they had only three men servants of their own; therefore whispering Lady Cecilia, "For Heaven's sake, if you have any value for your life, be silent," she attempted to speak very kindly to the guides, who seemed so much displeased by their behaviour, that it produced no effect, nor even obtained from them a civil reply.
A fog (which in the situation they were in is a very serious misfortune) soon came on ...
Once the moon had set, the postillions could not continue. They and the guides, unable to shelter in the coach, sought shelter a little way off, leaving the ladies to spend a nervous night. And then-
Volume 1, chapter 5 (page 48) Heading by Shakespeare.
Resuming at the next day's sunny dawn, they soon came upon a cottage, where Cecilia insisted on stopping, though the inn was only a mile away. Finding the cottage to be well-kept and clean, Cecilia asked to be put to bed; her "Abigails" Madame Chapone and Jenny stayed with her, but Mrs Gunnings decided to press on to the inn. Cecilia swiftly fell asleep, leaving Madame Chapone and Jenny to take tea with the cottager and her little girl Phoebe, where the discussion swiftly turned to fairies:
"Cot pless you, my ladies- why it was fairies!- that is the very way they do serve people; Cot be praised that you are got away from them so soon! for sometimes they do keep a pody for six months, or twelve months! and do take them through priars and pogs, and such places as none but the devil do know where to find."
[the author at this point refers readers to the Rev. - Jones's book on Welsh fairies].
This harangue upon fairies would probably have continued much longer, to the great edification of our Abigails, had not a scream from Lady Cecilia interrupted it.
They immediately ran to her, and found her lifeless; a little boy was standing by the bed, who sobbed out- "Lady dead too."
"Oh, my poor Bobby!" exclaimed his mother; "this is the very ped as he did die in put yesterday morning!- plessings on his soul! for he was the pest of lads!"
Grief here overpowered her speaking faculties; but the groans she sent forth, and the actions of the children, who clung around her, plainly informed Mrs Chapone and Jenny, that their lady was actually in a bed from whence a corpse had been taken the night before. The little boy, whom we mentioned, had informed her Ladyship of this very innocently, just as she awoke. ...
The lady of the house offered her some gin to help her recover from the shock, but Cecilia wanted only to get out as fast as possible. When Chapone asked how much she was to give the woman for her hospitality, Cecilia pointed out that she had just been robbed of her peace of mind- so no reward was due. The author records that the cottager, Jenny Jones, could only hope for recompense from her own landlord, the just and humane Sir Edwin Lloyd. Meanwhile, the coach took Cecilia and co. to the inn, then the reunited party went on to Glendarran, just 9 miles away.
Nothing remarkable occurred in the remainder of the journey, till they came within sight of the battlements of the castle; when the servants, according to ancient custom, began firing the cannon, to announce the arrival of the mistress of the place. The horses taking fright, the ladies awoke from the slumber in which they agreed to indulge, and a scene of dreadful terror and confusion ensued. The servants, who beheld the effect of their zeal, hastened to rescue the travellers from danger, which they effected, to the great satisfaction of the ladies, and the utter destruction of the true sublimity of this story.
Cecilia and her companions were not in the best of moods when they entered the Castle drawing room, and young Lord Margam, one of the first to greet them, bore the brunt of Cecilia's wrath. While Cecilia spent much of the day complaining, Mrs Gunnings was most impressed by the antique grandeur of the castle- much to the relief of the Lords Glendarran and Margam. This, however, merely provoked Ceciia to declare that she wanted to redecorate and refurnish the entire place (despite her intention of never revisiting it if she survived the trip back to London). She was particularly determined to rid the house of its collection of portraits, in the great gallery with its cathedral window, to the surprise of brother Ned.
... "For heaven's sake, Ned, what are those diabolical figures, staring enough to frighten one out of one's senses, in that vile gallery?"
"Pray come and look at them again, sister," returned Lord Margam; "surely you don't mean that fine collection of portraits?"
They immediately repaired to the gallery; but Lady Cecilia retained her first prepossessions, and protested,
"Not a mother's child shall remain! they shall every one be handed down, I promise their Ladyships! did any mortal ever behold such frights as these women! For Heaven's sake, Ned, what immense, horrid creature is this?"
"Why, Cecilia," exclaimed Lord Margam, "take care that her ghost does not rise to upbraid you for your want of taste, for she is nothing less than Nest, daughter of Justin-ap-Gwergant, Lord of Glamorgan! the matchless beauty, whom the invincible Fitz-Hamon encountered the whole county to obtain."
"Then the man was a fool," cried Lady Cecilia; "she a beauty!"
"Look at her features."
"Why, to be sure, her features may be beautiful; but what signifies what her face is, with such a dress as that?"...
She was equally contemptful of the many portraits of her ancestors.
The great tapestries in her bedroom did nothing to ease her new phobia against beds. The housekeeper assured her that this was the best room (Mrs Gunnings having the King's room, and her daughters the council-chamber and the haunted room).
"perhaps it may pe only a story at last apout my Lady Frances ap Gillivan's peing murdered there, and her eyes jumping, one up the chimney, and the other through the keyhole, and wandering apout till her pones shall pe found, and have christian purial. To pe sure, folks do say, as they have seen lights in the great gallery, and sometimes it do fix on one picture of a man with a drawn sword in his hand, as they say had some concarns in the murder. Yes, indeed! put for my part, I never pelieves no such things- I'm sure the room's a very helegunt, grand room," ...
(the young lady had rejected the gold room at the opposite end of the gallery because she insisted on a room next to her sister). Cecilia solved her problem by demanding that her maids sit up with her all night
Volume 1, chapter 6 (page 74) Heading anonymous:
"Oh the golden days we now possess,
Far exceed the boasted days of good Queen Bess!"
Lady Cecilia did, of course, sleep like a log, unlike Mrs Chapone who suffered in a straight-backed chair. When Robert the footman came and announced the arrival of Lady Winifred-ap-Tagno, Chapone asked him to let her in, then woke Cecilia and informed her that a lady was waiting to see her. Cecilia was unused to early morning visits, and said so; she also rejected Chapone's suggestion that she should simply have Lady Winifred shown up to her room. Chapone went to tell Lady Winifred that Lady Margam was not at home, and to find Mr Scraper or Mr Whiting, who could tell her more about the Castle.
After losing herself five times, she fortunately arrived at Mrs. Rees's apartment, where Mr. Scraper received her with infinite politeness, and fully rewarded her, by his kind expression of love and admiration, for all the miseries she endured. Inferior to no gentleman in his obedience to the commands of the ladies, he displayed in a very elegant manner the polite condescension of his sex, in calling a footman, and saving Mrs Chapone the trouble of repeating her mistress's orders to him.
The man, knowing that the lady was admitted to Lord Glendarran, strutted away mechanically, and repeated, "My Lady's not at home," in very good style.
Lady Winifred-ap-Tagno looked aghast. Lord Glendarran smiled, and began to make a hundred apologies in the old style, which he retained sufficiently to recollect, that since he last saw Lady Winifred, style was altered and that modern manners must appear a little strange to a woman who had never quitted her native mountains in that time.
She invited him and his family to dine with her the next day, when her neighbours would also be present. Keen to introduce his daughter to local society (and get her settled at the Castle, keeping her social whirlings a long way from him) Lord Glendarran accepted the invitation.
Volume 1, chapter 7 (page 82) Heading by Armstrong:
"The gawdy gloss of fortune..." etc.
Shortly after the household (including Cecilia) had assembled in the breakfast room, the arrival of the Misses Llewellyn was announced. For ladies brought up in such seclusion, they proved unexpectedly elegant, sophisticated and sociable. Initially taken aback, Cecilia gradually came to accept them, and took them with her on her initial foray to plan the redecoration of the house. Charlotte agreed that changes should be made to remove the over-formal atmosphere, but emphasised that the quality of the art and ornaments was very high. Cecilia's proposal was to consign the lot to the attics, and start spending her $6,000 a year as soon as she came of age, with custom-made wallpaper and satin curtains (all ornamented with gold) and carpet decorated with "charades and caricatures". Asked by Charlotte, in tangential reply to all this, whether she liked walking, Cecilia replied that she detested it- but to the logical assumption that she must also dislike dancing, she replied that she could "dance for ever", which Charlotte was pleased to hear.
Mention of the banqueting house prompted Cecilia to propose an immediate visit. Mrs Gunnings and her daughter assured Cecilia that she would be impressed- and she was, particularly when Charlotte played the harpsichord and Euphemia the harp. Cecilia was fond of music, though she claimed to have no time to practise herself. Surprise at the quality of music teaching so far from Town led to a demonstration by Miss Emma Gunnings of the success of her Town tuition; or rather, a demonstration of the great politeness of Miss Llewellyn. Cecilia was starting to like Glendarran- she even made the trip to the banqueting room on foot- so her father started instilling in her the idea of making it her home. She asked the Llewellyns "how is it possible that you can be so happy, and find such amusement, so far out of the world? for you really say that you are never dull."
"Because we know how to amuse ourselves," answered Charlotte. "Well, but here is no amusement!" continued Lady Cecilia; to which she replied, "I believe there is amusement in every thing; my sister and I were so happy, as to be taught how to extract it."
Though the idea appealed to Cecilia, Miss Gunnings begged to differ, and swayed her back to the path of society, and rational entertainments. Lord Margam and Euphemia, standing apart from the others, by a window, gave each other a look which firmly disagreed with that notion. The thoughts of Mrs Gunnings, busy flattering Lord Glendarran, are not recorded. Charlotte prudently steered the conversation to more trivial topics- a skill few were aware of but many admired. After the departure of the Llewellyn sisters, the Castle household compared notes, with Lord Margam defending Euphemia from a charge of being less lively than her sister. Miss Gunnings, again, presented the view which most women of society would espouse- so commonly held that the author chooses not to explain it, instead referring the reader to any fashionable drawing room.
Volume 1, chapter 8 (page 100) Heading by Shakespeare.
Euphemia and Charlotte likewise reflected on their new acquaintances- Charlotte being reluctant to offer an opinion on such short acquaintance, but doing so anyway. At that moment, they were interrupted by the arrival of their father and brother.
The manner in which Mr. Llewellyn returned Charlotte's salute so shocked Euphemia, that she felt an instantaneous emotion of horror succeed that joy which filled her mind when she anticipated the sight of her father. Charlotte shed tears, which she felt were tears of disappointment, for she experienced not the emotions which distinguish those of sensibility. It is true, they had very little knowledge of their father; for, since their mother's death, he had only been twice in Wales, and they had not forgotten the severity of his manners; particularly Charlotte, who was two years older than her sister; but the hope she indulged, that she should be able to conduce to his happiness, and the wish she entertained to perform every duty, led her to believe that her father would be pleased with her best endeavours. Poor Charlotte Llewellyn! we lament for the disappointment which thy fervent imagination must sustain, and the pangs thy heart must suffer, ere thou gainest a more complete knowledge of the heart of man!
After spending some time in conversation, their father abruptly decided to go to bed. When he was gone, Euphemia let out her tears, and Henry tried to comfort his sisters that their father really loved them but his character did not permit him to show his feelings. On that hopeful note, all three headed for their rest.
Volume 1, chapter 9 (page 106) Heading from Hall's Satires.
Both the Llewellyns and the Castle contingent attended Lady Winifred's party at Lanfoist Castle. Among the other guests was Lady Virgilia-ap-Howel, descended on her mother's side from Boadicea, and an expert on her family history (perhaps as well, given that she was the last of her line)- her father Lord Caerleon having taken her away from the education of her mother and, on discovering that she had a remarkable memory, made her learn the history of Rome and its connections with Wales by heart. She was keen to meet Lady Cecilia, likewise the last female of her own line, the Ap-Gwergants, but caught the young lady off guard by introducing the Roman pavement at Caerwent into her greeting. Fortunately, Lady Winifred introduced Cecilia in rapid succession to Miss Collivin, Mr & Mrs Jones, Mr & Mrs Ap-Rees, Dr Morgan and several others.
She too, however, startled the London ladies at dinner time, by leading the way to the dining room. During the meal, Cecilia, seated next to Henry Llewellyn, kept him well entertained after her fashion, with the story of her journey from London and thoughts on the opera; Miss Gunnings gave Lord Margam all the gossip from last year's Brighton season; and Lady Virgilia entered into a complex discussion with Dr Morgan, which suddenly shattered all other conversations:
"Sir, I insist upon it that Caractacus was the son of a South Welsh prince."
"Pooh, pooh!" answered Dr. Morgan; "that's a foolish new-fangled notion, and I don't believe it: Caractacus might perhaps be a person of family, and perhaps not: I don't think it is of much consequence who he was."
"Not of much consequence, Dr. Morgan! why surely, Dr. Morgan! you are not in your right senses!" exclaimed Lady Virgilia. "Not of much consequence who Caractacus was!"
"Not a farthing'sworth of consequence," persisted he. To which her Ladyship replied, "Why, Sir! I suppose that you will soon say, that it was not of much consequence who Boadicea was."
"Not a bit," he bluntly replied, "nor any such d--d w---s." Her Ladyship was perfectly astounded.- "Sir!" exclaimed she, when her rage found utterance, "what do you mean, Sir? do you mean to insult my family, Sir?"
"Come, come, Lady Virgilia," said he, "you know that I have a great respect for you, never put yourself in a passion for such a set of d---d rogues and b-t---s, as you know your ancestors were, when they murdered my great grandfather's grandfather, and took the estates from him" - "It may be so, but I don't believe it," replied Lady Virgilia; "but you have insulted my family, Sir! and you have called the honour of my family in question, which no mortal being, from the days of Julius Caesar to the present moment, ever dared to do before!"- "Pray who was he?" impatiently interrupted Lady Cecilia.- "Madam?" exclaimed Lady Virgilia.- "Who was Caesar something?" continued her inquirer.- ...
This swiftly sidetracked Lady Virgilia and gave Dr Morgan the opportunity to steer the conversation towards the doings of His Majesty's Government. Lord Glendarran, a Privy Councillor for 15 years, denied any knowledge of such matters, and even after the ladies had retired to the drawing room, the doctor and various squires were unable to extract any useful information from him.
Among the ladies, the first subject of Cecilia's conversation was to congratulate Miss Llewellyn on the good looks of her brother, and to express the hope that he would be staying in Wales. Then calling Miss Sally Gunnings to join them, she suddenly spied a familiar picture- the double of one she had used as an archery target at the Castle that morning. Lady Virgilia, who knew the subject to be Boadicea's daughter, was horrified, and the other older ladies turned away from the outrageous young woman to a game of whist (Cecilia had a hatred of card games). Lord Margam and Henry Llewellyn soon came into the room, but the latter, to Cecilia's chagrin, elected to make conversation with the older ladies, as politely as he had with her at dinner. At the end of the evening, Cecilia persuaded the Misses Llewellyn to pay another visit to the Castle the next day, and was so elated by this small hope that she left without any of the proper courtesies and curtsies. Her father's ample bows made up for the omission. The ladies' opinions, after the Glendarran party had left, ranged from Lady Virgilia's astonishment to Lady Winifred's pity, but all agreed that Glendarran was not in safe hands, with the exception of Charlotte Llewellyn.
Of course, back at the Castle and out of father's earshot, Cecilia and Miss Gunnings had their own negative views on the old ladies and their old-fashioned notions. Cecilia's opinion of Henry Llewellyn, however, was much more positive, as her brother swiftly recognised. Having heard many good words about the young man, he was inclined to support his sister in this. Sally Gunnings was not, for Henry had scarcely spoken to her, seeming to prefer the old women's company. Cecilia pointed out that of all the men at the party, the only other handsome one was a married Welsh squire, "unless you call Ned handsome". Sally did: "Lord Margam's a very fine fellow, an't you, my Lord?". Ned swiftly ended the chapter by walking out of the room, blushing.
Volume 1, chapter 10 (page 129) Heading by Shakespeare.
A month of home improvement, genteel entertainment and neighbourly courtesy later: Lady Cecilia is so far changed from her former self that she repeatedly tells Henry Llewellyn she never wishes to see London again, and writes to her cousin, Lady Florella Rounceval (daughter of the Duke of Starlington) that Glendarran is the most beautiful place in the world (and her improvements are making the Castle's rooms really magnificent) that she was never very fond of Twickenham and hated His Lordship's worm-eaten house in Bedfordshire, that the Llewellyns are even livelier that the Gunnings'- and that Florey really ought to tear herself away from Rounceval Abbey for a visit. But much as she admires Henry Llewellyn, she thinks him too proud to be a good husband.
She has also invited the Misses Llewellyn to stay at the Castle, which their father has turned into a command. As Cecilia's friends gradually make the effort to visit, the place becomes a scene of mirth and gaiety, and her improvements are much admired (though they are not as good as the various articles of furniture she could have invented). Attempts to consult Henry on her improvement schemes have not been happy; the two disagree to the point where Cecilia has informed Charlotte that she hated her brother of all the men on the face of the earth. Though Charlotte points out that Cecilia also hates men who flatter her, she remains convinced that Henry "need not be so very perverse and contradictory" ("He never contradicts me," said his sister.) The conversation turns to ways of passing the time in the country:
"As you neither like work, music, nor drawing, I wonder that you don't read," said Charlotte.
"Why, really, I cannot tell what to read," answered Lady Cecilia; "I have read so many novels that are not like any thing in nature, that I am quite tired of looking into them."
"But you might find greater amusement in books than even novels can afford: though doubtless many are very entertaining and instructive."
"Aye, but I hate books," replied Lady Cecilia; "my last governess made me read shelves full, and craze my poor brains with history and geography, till she half ruined my eyes- and all for nothing too! for when I came out, Lord, I never heard any creature mention a word of what she said was of so much importance to every body to know; and wished to make me believe I should appear very ignorant if I was unacquainted with. Such nonsense! How the deuce can any body tell whether I ever read a book or not, or whether I understand the history of England, which I never can nor ever shall remember a single syllable of; excepting that there was a King Charles, and a King Henry, an odious wretch that murdered all his wives; and a King Richard, and Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Anne, and William the Conqueror, and his queen Mary; which I'm sure is enough for any woman to know; and more than any body will ever remind me of, excepting it be that marvellous old time-piece lady Virgilia-ap-Howel."
"Do you like voyages?" asked Charlotte.
"Oh, no! I detest voyages," answered she; "they are always about sands, and rocks, and fishes, and fresh water, and such stuff as that; but I do like Rousseau's works!- and now I talk of reading, I declare I'll read them all over again, for I have almost forgot them."
"I think I could recommend books from which you would receive more benefit, and encounter less danger," said Charlotte; "but, as you neither like history nor voyages, suppose you were to read some interesting travels?"
Lady Cecilia immediately silenced her recommendations, by exclaiming- "Travels I abominate of all things! those people who write them are always meeting with adventures; poring after curiosities, and describing old ruins and inscriptions; and never get on half fast enough."
"Then do you like books on education and manners?" asked Charlotte, afraid to mention such as constituted her own studies and amusements.
"Oh no!" replied Lady Cecilia, "I detest such a fuss and nonsensical perambulation as people make about education and manners! Mrs Dingdong, who, Heaven be praised! only staid with me one year, made me read Fordyce's Sermons quite through; and I am resolved they shall last me for my life: not that I remember any thing about them, but that I hated the sight of the book; and if ever she began to read, I never could keep my eyes open; but now I think of her, it brings to my remembrance a book that she never would let me read; and, by what I recollect, there is more fun in that book than in all the books that ever I read in my life. Tom Jones was the very title! and I protest, if it is in this kingdom, I'll read it."
"I don't think you can do better," said Charlotte, laughing; "it is, without doubt, in the library. I will go and fetch it you this moment;" which she accordingly did: and as Lady Cecilia took it up every minute when she was accidentally alone, and, to use her own expression, knew not what to do with herself, she found so much entertainment in it, that she told Charlotte Llewellyn, before she had read half through the first volume, that she was determined never to be without a book again as long as she lived."
Lady Florella Rounceval's reply to Cecilia's letter, dated 20 July, reveals that she too is living a country lifestyle, being "tired to death of town"; walking each day in the park at Rounceval with family (her Mamma and ?sister Amelia) and guests such as Lord and Lady Clackington with their (rather dull) son, Major Mashem and Sir Robert (both more inclined to provide amusement for the ladies than to spend their days hunting and fishing); their neighbours the Campbells are expected to join the party next week. Winning over Mamma (who disapproves of strenuous activity after dinner) with the help of Sir Robert, they were able to go boating on Wednesday, and to see cows being milked at a local farm on Monday. The Major is fond of Crambo (in which participants take turns to add lines to a rhyming poem) a specimen game being transcribed as a postscript to the letter.
Volume 1, chapter 11 (page 152) Heading by Shakespeare.
The author pauses briefly to explain a little about some of the characters, beginning with Mrs Gunnings: a vile, artful and intriguing woman.
Having long been anxious to establish herself in life, but finding that as her years increased her importance diminished, she considered Mr Llewellyn as her intended protector, if she could get no one richer. This had, for a few years, been rather a matter of doubt with her, notwithstanding the various flirtations and intrigues she engaged in; therefore she began to think it prudent to make sure of a comfortable provision in time: this was her secret inducement to accept Lady Cecilia Margam's invitation to spend the summer with her; it having been previously agreed upon by her and Mr. Llewellyn (who had long been her neighbour in town), that, as soon as propriety would permit, she should receive a legal right to be mistress of Glendarran House, and all its inhabitants.
She is impressed by the Misses Llewellyn (though somewhat baffled by Charlotte) and feels that they will benefit from marriage (or rather, convinces herself of that as an excuse for a scheme to get them out of Glendarran). One of her daughters was in theory to captivate Lord Margam, but was wise enough to recognise that this was not happening, and to lie in wait for the next eligible young man to arrive in the valley: within a few days there were three candidates at the Castle- Mr Greville, a close friend of Lord Margam; Lord Oakley and Mr Carnelly; plus one at the House- Mr Llewellyn's friend Captain Wilson. Her sister Emma could be described as very genteel, but, at 27, still not sensible, as nothing in her extensive and expensive education had taught her to think for herself.
Volume 1, chapter 12 (page 164) Heading by Shakespeare.
Mr Greville turns out to be a man of culture, intelligence and (for a very fashionable young man) a slightly surprising diffidence, attracting the interest of Charlotte Llewellyn, as well as Miss Gunnings. Charlotte's tendency to view men as potential brothers rather than potential lovers was rather shaken when Miss Gunnings informed her after a few days that Mr Greville was going to be married immediately, and she found herself becoming alarmingly sensitive to his merits.
Some of our readers, we fear, will think, that to make a philosopher of a young woman, when contemplating a very handsome, amiable young man, is a little unnatural: to which we can only reply, that they had much better read no more of this story, or they may meet with several very out of the way matters of fact of the same kind. If they expect to find Charlotte Llewellyn act as girls usually do act, they will be disappointed; if they wish her to act so, they will be disgusted: it is they only who wish to see a woman act according to the dictates of reason, that can possibly find any entertainment in pursuing her through these volumes. Those who doubt that a woman can act so, we regard with pity. History has recorded some few women who have done so; experience must have convinced every observer that many do act so; and though reason might lead us to wish that all should, yet, while it discovers the weaknes of human nature, it drops a tear, and renounces the pleasing idea of absolute perfection (which hope and faith conspire to proclaim shall hereafter distinguish the human soul), till that period when it shall have put off this vesture of mortality.
The life of a woman guided by reason may afford some entertainment to the lovers of novelty; but the ingenious speculator, or the rigid moralist, must not frown, if, in perusing the life of a woman guided by reason, he finds that she is NOT FREE FROM FAULTS.
Volume 1, chapter 13 (page 170) Heading anonymous:
"Oh! could you break through fashion's monstrous rules,
And scorn the gaudy flattery of fools..."
A ball at Glendarran gave a chance for Cecilia to show her beauty (outshining even the Llewellyn sisters thanks to her elegant dress). Henry Llewellyn, however, chose to dance with Emma Gunnings. Cecilia ended up with Lord Oakley (a fat fool) but swiftly claimed tiredness, and retreated into a conversation with Lady Winifred-ap-Tagno (which incidentally improved Winifred's opinion of her). A couple of dances later though, Henry finally approached her, and after suggesting to Lady Winifred that she might form a whist party, Cecilia returned to the floor- for the rest of the evening. The eventual matches were: Mr Greville with Charlotte; Lord Oakley with Miss Gunnings, and Captain Wilson with Euphemia. The Captain made the mistake of praising Miss Llewellyn's dancing to Miss Gunnings (whom he had assumed to have no particular interest in the art of dance, from the style of her own performance). The author at this point introduces a few important notes on the definition of the phrase man of the world:
this phrase, in country villages, is so little known, that its meaning could not be comprehended by their inhabitants; but if they have any idea of a being analogous to that of a man of the world in the more enlightened parts of it, it is, a man who has been to London, served in the militia, wears fine clothes, has abundance of sweethearts, and tells marvellous stories. In country towns, a man of the world is one who has been in all kinds of scrapes, indulged in every excess, spent his fortune, disgraced his family, and ruined himself like a gentleman. In the higher circles, a "man of the world" frequently combines the ideas of a man who had done all of these things; but then he must likewise be a gamester, drink ten bottles of claret without being intoxicated, fight ten duels without being killed, and break the hearts of ten ladies without receiving a wound; have visited foreign courts, talk of intrigues with foreign princesses, amuse his companions at the expense of truth, morality, and decency; and then he will be, in the most fashionable sense, a complete man of the world.
Such was Captain Wilson; added to which, he was a most inimitable dancer.
Also at the ball was Miss Fitzgerald, a visitor to a neighbouring family who, though she had remained aloof from the dancing, offered to demonstrate a tricky dance figure to Cecilia. This she did in notable style, witnessed by, among others, Charlotte and Sir Edwin Lloyd (who had long settled with Cecilia the little matter of Jenny Jones). Meeting by chance in the card room shortly afterwards, the pair discussed her performance, which Charlotte, like many others, had found too theatrical and affected; Sir Edwin disagreed, suggesting that this affectation might easily to Miss Fitzgerald have been completely "natural". Further, he noted that some considered Charlotte affected, but that he hoped she would not change, preferring that women "would rather entertain us with the follies of nature, than of art." Charlotte, who had a great deal of respect for Sir Edwin, bowed to his wisdom- but still wondered whether Miss Fitzgerald's behaviour was natural. Knowing something of the Irish, he suggested that it probably was. Charlotte humbly agreed, and returned to the ballroom in hopes of becoming better acquainted with Miss Fitzgerald. She was, however, intercepted as she entered by Mr Greville, and agreed to another dance, despite having earlier told Euphemia that she was too tired for more- a fact on which the latter remarked when she sat down again, overheard by Lord Margam, who made an observant comment which caused a pink-cheeked Charlotte to seek the earliest exit from the room. The end of the ball is the excuse for a short meditation by the author on the enjoyment of such occasions.
The Greville situation slightly elucidated: Lady Cecilia, the day before the ball, mentioned that the lady to whom Mr Greville was allegedly betrothed, was indeed engaged, to one of her relations. Charlotte's impression was that the young man preferred her company to anybody else at Glendarran, and spoke much in praise of her; what should a woman of reason do in such circumstances?
Volume 1, chapter 14 (page 190) Heading by Shakespeare.
A short explanation of the philosophy of the Llewellyns' late governess concludes with a recitation of her last speech to Charlotte in the minutes before her death, expressing her hope that she would distinguish right from wrong, and wisely use the faculties God had given her.
"I believe that I have discharged my duty. Farewell! and may that Power which called you into being, guard and defend you from all dangers. Blame not the weakness of your nature when you do wrong. The faculties with which you are endowed, are proportioned to your state and necessities. Whatever an Almighty God created, must be good and right. Pray to him to bless you, and to pardon your errors. When you are sensible of having committed them, humble yourself for having sinned against him, by disobeying his laws, or having failed to exert those noble faculties which he bestowed upon you."
Euphemia, despite receiving the same wise care, was constitutionally weaker, and more timid, so that although truly amiable and good, and always striving to improve the world, she lacked the strength of mind which brings greatness.
Volume 1, chapter 15 (page 197) Heading by Milton.
Charlotte Llewellyn was convinced, from the review of her actions, after the ball at Glendarran, that she must entertain something more than simple respect for Mr. Greville; she resolved therefore to be circumspect for the future; and, above all things, not to flatter herself that Mr. Greville entertained any particular regard for her.
Some readers may, perchance, again protest that she reasoned very foolishly, and argued very falsely; and that if all young women were to think, and consider in this ridiculous manner, there would be few marriages in the world.
It must be confessed that there is some truth in the assertion; but it will also be allowed, that the few whom reason did allow to come together would probably enjoy as much happiness as the numbers who are now struggling in Hymen's golden chains.
Euphemia, on the other hand, seemed to Charlotte rather reckless in her commitment to Lord Margam, without consideration of practical problems which might occur. Too late: Euphemia, in love, was convinced that nothing could prevent the expected union.
Thought prevented Charlotte from sleeping; anxiety for her sister now supplied the place of her own reasonings; so that, when she appeared at breakfast next morning, she was obliged to feign as an excuse for having a bad head-ache, the fatigue she had experienced from dancing so much the night before.
"Indeed," said Mr. Greville, joining her, as she was standing alone at a window, for the benefit of the air, "I am very sorry for you; and you cannot imagine how much I regretted that I was so inconsiderate as to prevail upon you to dance so much, however happy you made me by complying; do take some more coffee, and let me drive you out in my phaeton; I am sure it will do you good. See what a fine morning it is!"
"Oh! aye," exclaimed Lady Cecilia, who heard the latter part of Mr. Greville's conversation; "do go with him, and Mr. Llewellyn shall drive me; for he drives delightfully, and the roads are so bad, it is the best fun in the world."
Charlotte felt as if she must not go with Mr. Greville; but asking herself why, could not find any reason which ought to prevent her;
Unable to argue, Charlotte accepted. At lunch, she found herself the object of both Greville's attention and Lord Oakley's- as Miss Gunnings later remarked, leading to a discussion on the art of flirtation (Miss Gunnings considered herself an adept; Charlotte considered such trickery rather beneath her) and thus to an uneasy moment when Charlotte commented on her dislike of fools. Sensing disaster, she swiftly proposed to go for an evening stroll. Joined unexpectedly by Mr Greville, she found her reason less finely honed than she would have liked, and her conversation very trivial. On their return, Miss Gunnings elected to take a walk herself, and asked Mr Greville to be her companion. His assent seemed a signal for mass perambulation, and it was decided that all should go over to the music room in the woods for an impromptu concert.
Charlotte was now, to her annoyance, accompanied by an over-attentive Lord Oakley, and Euphemia was no happier with Captain Wilson (Lord Margam having been obliged to go on ahead to prepare the room). When, by some devious sisterly maneouvering, the Captain found himself with Charlotte, he chose to discuss Lady Virgilia-ap-Howel's beauty, and her lovely dress at the ball. As the lady and the dress were both remarkable ugly, Charlotte thought this was a tasteless attempt at wit, but Wilson demurred, leaving her somewhat lost for words which would not offend. He moved on to converse more happily with Miss Gunnings. At the music room, Mr Greville took her hand and asked her to play the organ for him- a performance swiftly interrupted by Miss Gunnings, who was sure she was playing the piece wrongly. After a few more slightly confused bars, Charlotte accepted a suggestion from Lord Margam that Miss Gunnings herself should give her rendering. When she had finished, Lord Oakley asked Charlotte to sing "Love in thine eyes", observing that he could listen to her "from morning till night". Though Charlotte protested that she tended to lose her voice when singing before an audience, Lord Oakley was insistent, and expressed his preference for a simple song over "nonsensical Italian quavers". Miss Gunnings, piqued, made a sharp retort, at which Charlotte unexpectedly found herself supporting his Lordship, much to his pleasure. Mercifully, Lady Cecilia interrupted at this point with a demand that the concert should resume, leading to some banter between her and the Lord about his lifestyle. The dust settled, Emma Gunnings played a beautiful piece, and Mr Greville expressed to Charlotte a wish that he could have heard it played by her. He had the best of the ensuing conversation, her brain having temporarily deserted her. On the way back to the Castle, she resolved not to walk with him, but then remembered something very important she needed to ask him about. Happily, Miss Gunnings was near to him, and Charlotte was able to strike up a conversation with her.
Volume 1, chapter 16 (page 224) Heading by Addison.
The author confirms for our benefit that Mr Greville is in love with Charlotte, and that he has decided to prolong his stay at Glendarran, in hope of establishing her true feeling for him. Charlotte, on the other hand, pondering the situation in the midnight dark, is determined to test him by not altering her behaviour towards him. Having only met him a fortnight ago, her natural caution and reason is firmly uppermost, and her upbringing has given her, as previously observed, no concept of flirtation and flings; she is not a woman of the world. The next morning, her manner towards him is positively cold- until he mentions that he is feeling unwell, which brings out all her natural tenderness. He resolves to do no more testing, and to offer his hand. The following morning, when she inquires after his health, he replies that he feels quite well.
Charlotte looked at him with surprise, began to think that his indisposition must have been very slight; and was somewhat confused, on reflecting how much anxiety she had shown.
"But why should I not?" thought she. "Are not all entitled to kindness and attention, when they are ill? Certainly.- Therefore, why should I not show that to Mr. Greville which I should to any other person in the same circumstances?"
"But should you have been quite so anxious for the health of any other person?" whispered Suspicion.
"Yes, that I should," answered Humanity, nor dare we say that it deceived her entirely.
Upon Mr. Greville's asking her to take a walk, she thanked him for his obliging offer of accompanying her, but remarked, that it was her custom always to walk alone in a morning.
"It's certainly very queer in you," said Lady Cecilia; "for I would not give a fig to walk by myself."
"Oh, Miss Llewellyn is enjoying her own reflections," remarked Miss Gunnings. To which her mother, with all the appearance of admiration, added-
"Yes, and I dare say she does not need any thing else to make her walks agreeable."
Mr Greville replies that he is intrigued by her habit of always walking towards the east wood, but alone she goes.
Volume 1, chapter 17 (page 234) Heading by Mason:
"The eye that will not weep another's sorrows..."
Oh ye daughters of affluence, whose business is pleasure, and whose study happiness; seek it only where it is to be found; in employments which satisfy the heart, and in performing the duties of rational beings, according to your respective situations. Think, ye who are complaining of fatigue and languor, in the midst of idleness and gaiety, think of the poor cottager, who earns her daily bread, and who labours from the rising of the sun to its going down, to obtain the food and raiment which nature requires.
Think, when you are destitute of employment, and so often wish that you had something to do- think on her who is wife, mistress, servant, nurse, and mother!
When sickness deprives you of spirits, ease, and gaiety; when the kindness of friends, the comforts of affluence, and all the powers of art, cannot obtain you one moment's respite from pain, think of her who has no friend to comfort, no servant to attend, no physician to prescribe to her; and whom perhaps the very draught which you petulantly reject, might restore to health and happiness!
The author reveals that Charlotte is in the habit of helping the poor and needy, visiting habitations that some of her class would not think to approach for fear of contamination by squalor.
Volume 1, chapter 18 (page 240) Heading by Crabbe.
The object of the morning walks is a cottage, home of a poor widow, formerly supported by her daughter until she fell ill (and her lover joined the forces). When the old lady had approached the Llewellyn sisters for help, Charlotte had made the first visit, finding the pale young woman fading away in the ramshackle dwelling. Resolved to save Lucy's life, she engaged the help of Dr Jones, and arranged for food to be sent. Medicine seemed to have little effect, so she tried other comforts, including wine, and new clothes made by local children under the instruction of the Llewellyns' maid Phoebe. When the sisters visited the cottage some five weeks after Charlotte's first foray, they found Lucy much improved, though Charlotte could tell she was by no means cured.
On the morning after Mr. Greville and the company at Glendarran had remarked her solitary rambles, she walked to the cottage, and was delighted to see Lucy receive her with a smile, while her mother exclaimed, "Ah dear a me, Madam! she is such a mortal deal better! it would a done your heart good to a seen her eat the nice chicken that good Madam Phoebe brought her yesterday; and she has eaten her breakfast of that stuff as your Ladyship sent, quite hearty; and last night she said to me, 'Ah, mother, I shall live to see Morgan again!' and then a did so cry, and talked, quite natural, as a body may say; and remembered the eighteen pence as a was forced to borrow of Nanny Jones, and says 'Mother, now I am but getting well, I'll spin so hard! and we shall be so happy again when I've paid her- God Almighty bless Miss Llewellyn!' And that he will, Miss, I am sure!"
Mr Greville, of course had made his own way to the east woods, and remarked upon her visit to the cottage, and his admiration for her work. And strangely enough, Miss Gunnings had also made the same journey, finding the cottage but repelled by its shabbiness- seeing the poorly young woman, she had made a swift promise to send Dr Morgan to help, and made her exit.
Charlotte, hearing that Lucy had been in a fit when Miss Gunnings saw her, and knowing that Dr Morgan was at the Castle, hastened to fetch him. Mr Greville and Miss Gunnings followed at their own pace, discussing Charlotte's generous nature, and the wonder of charity. In the course of this conversation, Mr Greville found himself seeing Miss Gunnings herself in a new and considerably more favourable light.
Volume 1, chapter 19 (page 256) Heading by Young:
"All men think all men mortal but themselves"
Dr Morgan was convinced that poverty was killing young Lucy, and that only "all the comforts of affluence" could save her, but Charlotte was still hopeful.
The next day was a wet one, and Charlotte did not walk to see her as usual; and the following morning, in answer to her earnest inquiries of Phoebe how she was, she learnt that Lucy was DEAD!
Let those who are elevated above pecuniary misfortunes in this world, contemplate from their giddy height, the beings equal in the sight of their Creator, whom fortune hath placed beneath them, and whom the interests of civil society necessarily render subordinate; let them reflect, that it is their duty to make their situations as easy as possible; and that the hand which refuses relief to misery, when it has a just claim to it, will be called to account for the mite entrusted to its care.
Charlotte greatly regretted missing the previous day's visit...
Volume 1, chapter 20 (page 261) Heading by Young.
Mr Greville remained in love with Charlotte, but had yet to make the ultimate test of her love for him. She had been kind, particularly when he was ill, but now he knew that this kindness was in her nature, not necessarily the result of any special feeling for him.
He resolved to try to discover the real state of her affections. With this view he seemingly took little notice of her, but paid much attention to Miss Gunnings.
One day when he was accidentally alone with Charlotte, he said to her, "Don't you admire Miss Gunnings extremely? I think she is one of the most sensible, amiable women I ever saw in my life- and very handsome."
"No, I don't admire her at all," replied Charlotte.
"Oh," cried Mr. Greville, gaily and emphatically, "she is a charming woman!"
"I don't know what her charms consist in, excepting rouge and pearl powder!" said Charlotte, with warmth.
"Oh, she is completely charming!" continued he; "quite fascinating! I'm absolutely in love with her!"
"I detest her," exclaimed Charlotte, "and I'm sure she possesses no one qualty to entitle her to the love of any body", before she abruptly walked away.
Charlotte was quick to realise what she had done, and resolved not to betray herself so in the future. At a ball that evening, Mr Greville did not even speak to her, and she retired to her room. Euphemia later joined her, reporting that Lord Margam had made her miserable that evening- causing Charlotte to burst into tears. Euphemia apologised, explaining that her own misery was merely the result of Lord Margam asking Emma Gunnings to dance before her. At that point, entered Lady Cecilia, who had been made miserable by young Mr Llewellyn- and she confessed that she loved him and wished to marry him. Charlotte doubted that this would be possible- the Llewellyns were by no means as wealthy or well-connected as the Margams. Lady Cecilia was not happy at the prospect of being married off to somebody like Lord Oakley- and asked Charlotte to consider the girl who had just died, and whether wealth and titles were true measures of a person.
But this seemed academic, for Cecilia saw no sign that Llewellyn loved her- Charlotte begged to differ, and Cecilia was somewhat encouraged. Attempts to find specific examples proved less than totally convincing, and quite confusing when Cecilia noted that they seemed much less convincing than the signs of Lord Margam's affection for Euphemia. That potential match was as problematic as Cecilia's, for the family plan was to marry Ned to Lord Norfolk's daughter.
Volume 1, chapter 21 (page 274) Heading by Cotton.
The next morning, Charlotte asked her brother some pointed questions about his views on Lady Cecilia. They soon found that, for all her misplaced notions, they were both very fond of her- but though he did indeed love her, the social barriers prevented him from admitting so. Charlotte told him to stop trifling with Cecilia- at the ball, for example, he should have danced with her first, not Miss Fitzgerald. He replied that, as there had been men of superior rank in the room, that would have been presumptuous. Charlotte decided to end the conversation at that point, lest she reveal too much of Cecilia's mind, and hurried away, ignoring Henry when he said he had "something very particular" to tell her.
Charlotte returned to her room, fearing that if she went walking she would encounter Mr Greville. She wrote a letter to a childhood friend, Miss Wentworth (whom she rarely met as she lived in London). At lunch time, Mr Greville spoke to her very little, and when they held another concert in the banqueting house that evening, his behaviour was almost cold.
Charlotte, to speak plainly, was miserable; though, seemingly, she entered very gaily into conversation with Miss Emma Gunnings, and appeared in high spirits, till meeting Mr. Greville's eyes, he fixed them upon her with a scrutinizing inquiry, which instantly asked her soul if she was happy.
Feeling somehow offended, she turned hastily away and asked Emma Gunnings if she would accompany her back to the Castle. Cecilia, on the other hand, was in a happy mood, and proposed another ball for the night after next. To provide additional amusement, the company also decided to put on a concert, at which the Misses Gunnings would play and sing; Lord Margam would blow the flute; Henry Llewellyn take a violin, and Lord Oakley sing a jolly fox-hunting song (he would also help Miss Llewellyn to sing the Noble Race of Shenkin).
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME (page 284)
To vol. 2