Tales and Novels, vol 5 | Page 7

much easier and
better said than written. And now I look at my watch, I see you cannot
have time to write a long letter, and to dress. So I believe, though I
shall grieve to lose you, I must consent to your going for this one day to
your brother's. My carriage and Williamson shall attend you," said Mrs.
Beaumont, ringing the bell to order the carriage; "but remember you
promise me now to come back, positively, to-morrow, or next day at
farthest, if I should not be able to send the carriage again to-morrow. I
would not, upon any account, have you away, if it can possibly be
helped, whilst Mr. Palmer is here, considering you as I do [The carriage
to the door directly, and Williamson to attend Miss

Hunter]--considering you as I do, my dearest Albina, quite as my own
daughter."
"Oh, my dearest Mrs. Beaumont, you are so kind!" said the poor girl,
whom Mrs. Beaumont could always thus easily pay with words.
The carriage came to the door with such prompt obedience to Mrs.
Beaumont's summons, that one of a more reflecting or calculating
nature than Miss Hunter might have suspected that it had been ordered
to be in readiness to carry her away this morning.
"Fare ye well, my own Albina! be sure you don't stay long from us,"
said Mrs. Beaumont, accompanying her to the hall-door. "A thousand
kind things to everybody, and your brother in particular. But, my dear
Miss Hunter, one word more," said she, following to the carriage door,
and whispering: "there's another thing that I must trust to your
management and cleverness;--I mentioned that Mr. Palmer was to
know nothing of the approbation of Sir John's suit."
"Oh, yes, yes, ma'am, I understand perfectly."
"But stay, my love; you must understand, too, that it is to be quite a
secret between ourselves, not to be mentioned to my son even; for you
know he is sudden in his temper, and warm and quite in the
Walsingham interest, and there's no knowing what might be the
consequence if it were to be let out imprudently, and Sir John and
Edward both so high-spirited. One can't be too cautious, my dear, to
prevent mischief between gentlemen. So caution your brother to leave
it to me to break it, and bring things about with Edward and
Amelia,"--[stopping Miss Hunter again as she made a second effort to
get into the carriage,]-- "You comprehend, my dear, that Amelia is not
in the secret yet--so not a word from your brother to her about my
approbation!--that would ruin all. I trust to his honour; and besides--"
drawing the young lady back for the third whisper.--Miss Hunter stood
suspended with one foot in air, and the other on the step; the coachman,
impatient to be off, manoeuvred to make his horses restless, whilst at
the same time he cried aloud--"So! so! Prancer--stand still, Peacock;
stand still, sir!"

Miss Hunter jumped down on terra firma. "Those horses frighten me so
for you, my dear!" said Mrs. Beaumont. "Martin, stand at their heads.
My dear child, I won't detain you, for you'll be late. I had only to say,
that--oh! that I trust implicitly to your brother's honour; but, besides
this, it will not be amiss for you to hint, as you know you can
delicately--delicately, you understand--that it is for his interest to leave
me to manage every thing. Yet none of this is to be said as if from
me--pray don't let it come from me. Say it all from yourself. Don't let
my name be mentioned at all. Don't commit me, you understand?"
"Perfectly, perfectly, ma'am: one kiss, dear Mrs. Beaumont, and adieu.
Is my dressing-box in? Tell him to drive fast, for I hate going slow.
Dearest Mrs. Beaumont, good bye. I feel as if I were going for an age,
though it is only for one day."
"Dear, affectionate girl! I love heart--Good bye--Drive fast, as Miss
Hunter desires you."
Our fair politician, well satisfied with the understanding of her
confidante, which never comprehended more than met the ear, and
secure in a chargé d'affaires, whose powers it was never necessary to
limit, stood on the steps before the house-door, deep in reverie, for
some minutes after the carriage had driven away, till she was roused by
seeing her son returning from his morning's ride.
CHAPTER III.
"Will you hear a Spanish lady, How she woo'd an English man?
Garments gay as rich as may be, Deck'd with jewels, she had on." THE
SPANISH LADY'S LOVE. Percy's Reliques of Ancient Poetry
Mr. Beaumont had just been at a neighbouring farm-house, where there
lived one of Mr. Walsingham's tenants; a man of the name of Birch, a
respectable farmer, who was originally from Ireland,