Tales and Novels, vol 5 | Page 3

do you then really believe, my
dear Marianne, that Mrs. Beaumont would consider any thing, for
instance, in the marriage of her son and daughter, but fortune, and what
the world calls connexion and establishments?"

"Certainly I cannot think that these are Mrs. Beaumont's first objects;
because we are people but of small fortune, and yet she prefers us to
many of large estates and higher station."
"You should say, she professes to prefer us," replied Mr. Walsingham.
"And do you really believe her to be sincere? Now, there is my ward,
Captain Walsingham, for whom she pretends to have such a regard, do
you think that Mrs. Beaumont wishes her daughter should marry him?"
"I do, indeed; but Mrs. Beaumont must speak cautiously on that subject;
this is prudence, not dissimulation: for you know that my cousin
Walsingham never declared his attachment to Miss Beaumont; on the
contrary, he always took the most scrupulous pains to conceal it from
her, because he had not fortune enough to marry, and he was too
honourable to attempt, or even to wish, to engage the affections of one
to whom he had no prospect of being united."
"He is a noble fellow!" exclaimed Mr. Walsingham. "There is no
sacrifice of pleasure or interest he would hesitate to make to his duty.
For his friends there is no exertion, no endurance, no forbearance, of
which he has not shown himself capable. For his country----All I ask
from Heaven for him is, opportunity to serve his country. Whether
circumstances, whether success, will ever prove his merits to the world,
I cannot foretell; but I shall always glory in him as my ward, my
relation, my friend."
"Mrs. Beaumont speaks of him just as you do," said Miss Walsingham.
"Speaks, but not thinks," said Mr. Walsingham. "No, no! Captain
Walsingham is not the man she desires for a son-in-law. She wants to
marry Amelia to Sir John Hunter."
"To Sir John Hunter!"
"Yes, to Sir John Hunter, a being without literature, without morals,
without even youth, to plead in his favour. He is nearly forty years old,
old enough to be Amelia's father; yet this is the man whom Mrs.
Beaumont prefers for the husband of her beloved daughter, because he

is heir presumptive to a great estate, and has the chance of a
reversionary earldom.--And this is your modern good mother."
"Oh, no, no!" cried Miss Walsingham, "you do Mrs. Beaumont
injustice; I assure you she despises Sir John Hunter as much as we do."
"Yet observe the court she has paid to the whole family of the
Hunters."
"Yes, but that has been merely from regard to the late Lady Hunter,
who was her particular friend."
"Particular friend! a vamped-up, sentimental conversation reason."
"But I assure you," persisted Miss Walsingham, "that I know Mrs.
Beaumont's mind better than you do, father, at least on this subject."
"You! a girl of eighteen, pretend to know a manoeuvrer of her age!"
"Only let me tell you my reasons.--It was but last week that Mrs.
Beaumont told me that she did not wish to encourage Sir John Hunter,
and that she should be perfectly happy if she could see Amelia united
to such a man as Captain Walsingham."
"Such a man as Captain Walsingham! nicely guarded expression!"
"But you have not heard all yet.--Mrs. Beaumont anxiously inquired
from me whether he had made any prize-money, whether there was any
chance of his returning soon; and she added, with particular emphasis,
'You don't know how much I wish it! You don't know what a favourite
he is of mine!'"
"That last, I will lay any wager," cried Mr. Walsingham, "she said in a
whisper, and in a corner."
"Yes, but she could not do otherwise, for Amelia was present. Mrs.
Beaumont took me aside."
"Aside; ay, ay, but take care, I advise you, of her asides, and her

whisperings, and her cornerings, and her inuendoes, and
semiconfidences, lest your own happiness, my dear, unsuspecting,
enthusiastic daughter, should be the sacrifice."
Miss Walsingham now stood perfectly silent, in embarrassed and
breathless anxiety.
"I see," continued her father, "that Mrs. Beaumont, for whose mighty
genius one intrigue at a time is not sufficient, wants also to persuade
you, my dear, that she wishes to have you for a daughter-in-law: and
yet all the time she is doing every thing she can to make her son marry
that fool, Miss Hunter, merely because she has two hundred thousand
pounds fortune."
"There I can assure you that you are mistaken," said Miss Walsingham;
"Mrs. Beaumont dreads that her son should marry Miss Hunter. Mrs.
Beaumont thinks her as silly as you do, and complained to me of her
having no taste for literature, or for any thing, but dress, and trifling
conversation."
"I wonder,