"Do you disapprove of dancing, ma"am?" said Mr. Haughton, who held her opinions in great respect as well as a little dread.
"I neither approve nor disapprove of it--jumping up and down is innocent enough in itself, and if it must be done it is well it were done gracefully; as for the accompaniments of dancing I say nothing--what do you say, Doctor Ives?"
"To what, my dear madam?"
"To dancing."
"Oh let the girls dance if they enjoy it."
"I am glad you think so, doctor," cried the delighted Mr. Haughton; I was afraid I recollected your advising your son never to dance nor to play at games of chance."
"You thought right, my friend," said the doctor, laying down his newspaper; "I did give that advice to Frank, whom you will please to remember is now rector of Bolton. I do not object to dancing as not innocent in itself or as an elegant exercise; but it is like drinking, generally carried to excess: now as a Christian I am opposed to all excesses; the music and company lead to intemperance in the recreation, and they often induce neglect of duties--but so may anything else."
"I like a game of whist, doctor, greatly," said Mr. Haughton; "but observing that you never play, and recollecting your advice to Mr.
Francis, I have forbidden cards when you are my guest"
"I thank you for the compliment, good sir," replied the doctor, with a smile; "still I would much rather see you play cards than hear you talk scandal, as you sometimes do."
"Scandal!" echoed Mr. Haughton.
"Ay, scandal," said the doctor, coolly, "such as the remark you made the last time, which was only yesterday, I called to see you. You accused Sir Edward of being wrong in letting that poacher off so easily; the baronet, you said, did not shoot himself, and did not know how to prize game as he ought."
"Scandal, Doctor--do you call that scandal? why I told Sir Edward so himself, two or three times."
"I know you did, and that was rude."
"Rude! I hope sincerely Sir Edward has put no such construction on it?"
The baronet smiled kindly, and shook his head.
"Because the baronet chooses to forgive your offences, it does not alter their nature," said the doctor, gravely: "no, you must repent and amend; you impeached his motives for doing a benevolent act, and that I call scandal."
"Why, doctor, I was angry the fellow should be let loose; he is a pest to all the game in the county, and every sportsman will tell you so--here, Mr. Moseley, you know Jackson, the poacher."
"Oh! a poacher is an intolerable wretch!" cried Captain Jarvis.
"Oh! a poacher," echoed John, looking drolly at Emily, "hang all poachers."
"Poacher or no poacher, does not alter the scandal," said the doctor; "now let me tell you, good sir, I would rather play at fifty games of whist than make one such speech, unless indeed it interfered with my duties; now, sir, with your leave I"ll explain myself as to my son. There is an artificial levity about dancing that adds to the dignity of no man: from some it may detract: a clergyman for instance is supposed to have other things to do, and it might hurt him in the opinions of those with whom his influence is necessary, and impair his usefulness; therefore a clergyman should never dance. In the same way with cards; they are the common instruments of gambling, and an odium is attached to them on that account; women and clergymen must respect the prejudices of mankind in some cases, or lose their influence in society."
"I did hope to have the pleasure of your company, doctor, said Mr.
Haughton, hesitatingly.
"And if it will give you pleasure," cried the rector, "you shall have it with all my heart, good sir; it would be a greater evil to wound the feelings of such a neighbor as Mr. Haughton, than to show my face once at a ball," and rising, he laid his hand on the shoulder of the other kindly.
"Both your scandal and rudeness are easily forgiven; but I wished to show you the common error of the world which has attached odium to certain things, while it charitably overlooks others of a more heinous nature."
Mr. Haughton, who had at first been a little staggered with the attack of the doctor, recovered himself, and laying a handful of notes on the table, hoped he should have the pleasure of seeing every body. The invitation was generally accepted, and the worthy man departed, happy if his friends did but come, and were pleased.
"Do you dance, Miss Moseley?" inquired Denbigh of Emily, as he sat watching her graceful movements in netting a purse for her father.
"Oh, yes! the doctor said nothing of us girls, you know I suppose he thinks we have no dignity to lose."
"Admonitions are generally thrown away on young ladies when pleasure is in the question," said the doctor, with a look of almost paternal affection.
"I hope you do not seriously disapprove of it in moderation," said Mrs.
Wilson.
"That depends, madam, upon circ.u.mstances; if it is to be made subsidiary to envy, malice, coquetry, vanity, or any other such little lady-like accomplishment, it certainly had better be let alone. But in moderation, and with the feelings of my little pet here, I should be cynical, indeed, to object."
Denbigh appeared lost in his own ruminations during this dialogue; and as the doctor ended, he turned to the captain, who was overlooking a game of chess between the colonel and Jane, of which the latter had become remarkably fond of late, playing with her hands and eyes instead of her feet--and inquired the name of the corps in barracks at F----.
"The ----th foot, sir," replied the captain, haughtily, who neither respected him, owing to his want of consequence, nor loved him, from the manner in which Emily listened to his conversation.
"Will Miss Moseley forgive a bold request," said Denbigh, with some hesitation.
Emily looked up from her work in silence, but with some little flutterings at the heart.
"The honor of her hand for the first dance," continued Denbigh, observing she was in expectation that he would proceed.
Emily laughingly said, "Certainly, Mr. Denbigh, if you can submit to the degradation."
The London papers now came in, and most of the gentlemen sat down to their perusal. The colonel, however, replaced the men for a second game, and Denbigh still kept his place beside Mrs. Wilson and her niece. The manners, the sentiments, the whole exterior of this gentleman were such as both the taste and judgment of the aunt approved of; his qualities were those which insensibly gained on the heart, and yet Mrs. Wilson noticed, with a slight uneasiness, the very evident satisfaction her niece took in his society. In Dr. Ives she had great confidence, yet Dr. Ives was a friend, and probably judged him favorably; and again, Dr. Ives was not to suppose he was introducing a candidate for the hand of Emily in every gentleman he brought to the hall. Mrs. Wilson had seen too often the ill consequences of trusting to impressions received from inferences of companionship, not to know the only safe way was to judge for ourselves: the opinions of others might be partial--might be prejudiced--and many an improper connexion had been formed by listening to the sentiments of those who spoke without interest, and consequently without examination. Not a few matches are made by this idle commendation of others, uttered by those who are respected, and which are probably suggested more by a desire to please than by reflection or even knowledge. In short Mrs. Wilson knew that as our happiness chiefly interests ourselves, so it was to ourselves, or to those few whose interest was equal to our own, we could only trust those important inquiries necessary to establish a permanent opinion of character. With Doctor Ives her communications on subjects of duty were frequent and confiding, and although she sometimes thought his benevolence disposed him to be rather too lenient to the faults of mankind, she entertained a profound respect for his judgment. It had great influence with her, if it were not always conclusive; she determined, therefore, to have an early conversation with him on the subject so near her heart, and be in a great measure regulated by his answers in the steps to be immediately taken. Every day gave her what he thought melancholy proof of the ill consequences of neglecting a duty, in the increasing intimacy of Colonel Egerton and Jane.
"Here, aunt," cried John, as he ran over a paper, "is a paragraph relating to your favorite youth, our trusty and well beloved cousin the Earl of Pendennyss."
"Read it," said Mrs. Wilson, with an interest his name never failed to excite.
"We noticed to-day the equipage of the gallant Lord Pendennyss before the gates of Annandale-house, and understand the n.o.ble earl is last from Bolton castle, Northamptonshire."
"A very important fact," said Captain Jarvis, sarcastically; "Colonel Egerton and myself got as far as the village, to pay our respects to him, when we heard he had gone on to town."
"The earl"s character, both as a man and a soldier," observed the colonel, "gives him a claim to our attentions that his rank would not: on that account we would have called."
"Brother," said Mrs. Wilson, "you would oblige me greatly by asking his lordship to waive ceremony; his visits to Bolton castle will probably be frequent, now we have peace; and the owner is so much from home that we may never see him without some such invitation."
"Do you want him as a husband for Emily?" cried John, as he gaily seated himself by the side of his sister.
Mrs. Wilson smiled at an observation which reminded her of one of her romantic wishes; and as she raised her head to reply in the same tone, met the eye of Denbigh fixed on her with an expression that kept her silent.
This is really an incomprehensible young man in some respects, thought the cautious widow, his startling looks on the introduction to the colonel crossing her mind at the same time; and observing the doctor opening the door that led to the baronet"s library, Mrs. Wilson, who generally acted as soon as she had decided, followed him. As their conversations were known often to relate to the little offices of charity in which they both delighted, the movement excited no surprise, and she entered the library with the doctor uninterrupted.
"Doctor," said Mrs. Wilson, impatient to proceed to the point, "you know my maxim, prevention is better than cure, This young friend of yours is very interesting."
"Do you feel yourself in danger?" said the rector, smiling.
"Not very imminent," replied the lady, laughing good-naturedly. Seating herself, she continued, "Who is he? and who was his father, if I may ask?"
"George Denbigh, madam, both father and son," said the doctor, gravely.
"Ah, doctor, I am almost tempted to wish Frank had been a girl. You know what I wish to learn."