 Book 9, Chapter 2 of Camilla This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, reading by Lars Rolander. Camilla or a picture of youth by Fanny Burney, Chapter 2. Touches of wit and humor The suddenness of this blow to Camilla The moment when her expectations from Edgar were wound up to the summit of all she desired, would have stupefied her into a consternation beyond even affliction, had not the mildness of his farewell, the kindness of his prayers, and the friendship of his counsels, joined to the generosity of leaving folly to herself the account of their separation, subdued all the pride that sought to stifle her tenderness, and penetrated her with an admiration, which left not one particle of censor to diminish her regret. Melmont and his sister always open to distress and susceptible to pity, saw with true concern this melancholy change, and concluded that Manlbert had communicated some painful intelligence. She went straight to her own room, with the sign of supplication that Mrs. Burlington would not follow, and turning quick from Mrs. Mitten, who met her at the street door. Mrs. Burlington yielded, but Mrs. Mitten was not easily rebuffed. She was loaded with lilac plumes, ribbons, and gorsies, and Camilla saw her bed completely covered with her new baldress. This sight was at first an aggravation of her agony, by appearing to her as superfluous as it was expensive, but wherever hope could find an aperture to creep in at it, it was sure of a welcome from Camilla. Edgar was undoubtedly invited to the ball. Why should he not be there? He had taken leave of her, indeed, and he certainly proposed going abroad, but could a mere meeting once more be so repugnant as not to be endured. The answer to this question was favorable to her wishes. For by her wishes it was framed, and the next play of her fertile and quick reviving imagination described the meeting that would ensue, the accidents that would bring them into the same set, the circumstances that would draw them again into conversation, and the sincerity with which she would do justice to her unalterable esteem, by assuring him how injurious to it were his surmises that she thought him rigorous or stare or in any single instance to blame. These hopes somewhat appeased, though their uncertainty could not banish her terrors, and she was able to appear at dinner tolerably composed. After a fair immediately after, superseded them for the present by more urgent difficulties. Soon after her arrival at Southampton, a poor woman who washed for her made a petition in behalf of her brother, a petty shopkeeper, who by various common yet pitiful circumstances of unmerited ill success in business, was unable to give either money or security to the wholesale dealers, for the renewal of his exhausted stock in trade, though the present full season made it rational to suppose that if he had his usual commodities he might retrieve his credit, save himself from bankruptcy, and his children from beggary. These last which were five in number were all upon various pretenses brought to Camilla, whose pity they excited by the innocence with which they seemed ignorant of requiring it, and who received them with smiles and encouragement, however frivolous their errands and frequent their interruptions. But the goods which their father wanted to lay in to revive his trade demanded full thirty pounds, which Camilla declared was absolutely out of her power to give as thirty thousand, though she promised to plead to Sir Yug for the sum upon her return to Cleves, and was prevailed with to grant her name to this promise for the wholesale dealers. These would trust, however, to no verbal security, and Mrs. Mitten, who from collateral reasons was completely a friend of the poor man, offered to be bound for him herself, though thirty pounds were nearly her year's income, provided Camilla would sign a paper by which she would engage upon her honor to indemnify her of any loss she might eventually sustain by this agreement, as soon as she was of age, or should find it in her power before that time. The seriousness of this clause made Camilla refuse the responsibility, protesting she should have no added means in consequence of being of age. But Mrs. Mitten assured Higdon, the poor man, as she assured all others, that she was heiress to immense wealth, for she had had it from one that had it from her own brother's own mouth, and that, though she could not find out why she was so shy of owning it, she supposed it was only from the fear of being imposed upon. The steadiness of Camilla, however, could not withstand her compassion, when the washerwoman brought the poor children to beg for their father, and certain of her uncle's bounty she would have run a far more palpable risk sooner than have assumed the force to send them weeping away. The stores were then delivered, and all the family put forth their thanks. But this day, in quitting the dining-parlor, she was stopped in the hall by Higdon, who, in unfamed agonies, related that some flasks of oil in a small hamper, which were amongst the Micheloness articles of his just-collected stores, had by some cruel accident been crushed, and their contents finding their way into all the other packages had stained or destroyed them. Camilla, to whose foresight misfortune never presented itself, heard this with nearly equal terror for herself, and sorrow for the poor man. Yet her own part, in a second minute, appeared that of mere inconvenience, compared with his, which seemed ruin irretrievable. She sought therefore to comfort him, but could afford no further help, since she had painfully to beg from her uncle the sum already so uselessly incurred. He ventured still to press that if again he could obtain a supply every evil chance should be guarded against. But Camilla had now learnt that accidents were possible, and the fear which arises from disappointed trust made her think of probable mischiefs with too acute a discernment, to deem it right to run again any hazard, where, if there were a failure, another not herself would be the sufferer. Yet the despair of the poor man induced her to promise she would write in his favor, though not acting it again unauthorized. With feelings of still-augmented discomfort from her denial, she repaired her toilet, but attired herself without seeing what she put on or knowing but by Mrs. Mittens' descriptions and boastings that her dress was new of the purvel uniform, and made precisely like that of Mrs. Burlington. Her agitated spirits suspended, not between hope and fear, but hope and despair, permitted no examination of its elegance. The recollection of its expense, and the knowledge that Edgar thought her degenerating into a cockatry, left nothing but regret for its wear. Mrs. Burlington, who never before since her marriage had been of any party where her attractions had not been unrivaled, had believed herself superior to pleasure from personal homage, and knew not till she missed it that it made any part of her amusement in public. But the beauty when first she perceives a competitor for the urulation she has endured exclusively, and the statesman, at the first turn of popular applause to an antagonist, or the two beings who, perhaps for the moment, require the most severe display of self-command to disguise under the semblance of good humor or indifference, the disappointment they experience in themselves, or the contempt with which they are seized for the changing multitude. Mrs. Burlington, though she felt no resentment against Camilla for the desertion she had occasioned her, felt much surprise not to be first was new to her, and whoever in any station of life any class of society has had regular and acknowledged presidency must own a sudden dissent to be rather awkward. Where excignation is voluntary, to give up the higher place may denote more greatness of mind than to retain it, but were imposed by others, few things are less exhilarating to the principal or impressed less respect upon the bystander. Mrs. Burlington had never been vain, but she could not be ignorant of her beauty, and that the world's admiration should be so wondrously fickle or so curiously short-lived as to make even the bloom of youth fade before the higher zest of novelty was an earlier lesson than her mind was prepared to receive. She thought she had dressed herself that morning with too much carelessness of what was becoming, and devoted to this evening a greater portion of labour and study. While Camilla was impatiently waiting, Mrs. Pollard, the washer woman, gained admittance to her, and bringing two interesting little children from four to five years old, and an elder girl of eleven, made them join with herself to implore their benefactors to save them all from destruction. Higdon, having had the imprudence in his grief to make known his recent misfortune, it had reached the ears of his landlord, who already was watchful and suspicious from a year-and-half errors of his rent, and steps were immediately preparing to cease whatever was upon the premises the next morning, which by bringing upon him all his other creditors would infallibly emure him in the lingering hopelessness of a prison. Camilla now wavered, the debt was but eighteen pounds, the noble largesis of her uncle in charity, till of late, that he had been somewhat drained by Lionel, were nearly unlimited. She paused, looked now at the pleading root, now at her expensive dress, asked how, for her own hopes, she could risk so much, yet for their deliverance from ruin so little, and with a blush turning from the mirror and to the children with a tear, finally consented that the landlord should apply to her the next morning. The pervil had sometimes opened the ball before Mrs. Burlington's arrival, but he looked everywhere for Camilla to succeed to a young lady of quality with whom he had danced the first two dances. He could not, however, believe he had found, though he now soon saw and made up to her. The brilliancy of her eyes was dimmed by weeping, her vivacity was changed into dejection, grace and looks of absence took place of smiles and sallies of a gaiety, and her whole character seemed to have lost its spring and elasticity. She gave him her hand to preserve her power of giving it if claimed by Edgar, and though he had thought of her without ceasing, since she had charmed him in the jot, till he had obtained it, not a lady appeared in the room, by the time these two dances were over, that he would not more cheerfully have chosen for two more. Her gravity every minute increased, her eye rolled, with restless anxiety, everywhere except to meet his, and so little were her thoughts, looks, or conversation bestowed upon her partner, that instead of finding the animated beauty who had nearly captivated him on board the jot, he seemed coupled with a fair lifeless machine, whom the music per force put in motion, and relinquished her hand with as little reluctance as she withdrew it. Melmont had again by his sister been forced into the party, though with added unwillingness from his new idea of Indiana. Now however to avoid that fair bane was impossible. Indiana was the first object to meet every eye, from the luster of her beauty, and the finest of her figure, each more than ever transcendentally conspicuous, from the uniform which had obliged every other female in the room to appear in exactly the same attire. Yet great and unrivaled as was the admiration which he met, what came simply naturally was insufficient for the thirst with which she now quaffed this intoxicating beaverage, and to render its drafts still more delicious, she made Eugenia always whole by her arm. The contrast here to the spectators was diverting as well as striking, and renewed attention to her own charms when the eye began to grow nearly sated with gazing. The ingenious Eugenia incapable of suspecting such a design was always the due to the request, from the opinion it was made in kindness to save her from fatigue in the eternal sauntering of a public place, and lost to all fear in being lost to all hope as to her own appearance cheerfully accompanied her beautiful kinswoman, without conjecturing that, in a company whence the illiterate and vulgar were excluded, personal imperfections could excite pleasantry or be a subject of satire. Camilla who still saw nothing of Edgar yet still thought it possible he might come, joined them as soon as she was able. Miss Marglen was full of complaints about Dr. Orkworn for his affording them no assistance in the yacht, and not coming home even to dinner, nor to tend them to Lord Purvels, and Eugenia who was sincerely attached to the doctor from the many years he had been her preceptor, was beginning to express her serious uneasiness at his thus strangely vanishing, when Clermont, with the most obstreperous laughter made up to them and said, I'll tell you a monstrous good joke, the best thing you ever heard in your life. The old doctor's been upon the very point of being drowned, and he has not had a morsel to eat all day. He then related that his man having seen him compositely seated and musing upon a pile of planks which were seasoning upon the beach, with his face turned away from the company to avoid its interruptions, had inquired if he had any commands at home whether he was going. Not for meaning to do them, continued Lindmer. No, no, catch Bob at that, but only to break in upon him for Bob's a rare hand at a joke. He says he's ready to die with laughing when he speaks to the old doctor while he's studying, because he looks so much as if he wished we were all hanged. However, he answered tolerably civilly and only decided that nobody might go into his room till he came home from the sale, for he'd forgot to lock it. So Bob, who smoked how the matter was, says, The sale, sir, what are you going alone then? For all the company's been gone these two hours. So this put him in such a taking. Bob says he never laughed so much in his life. He jumped up as if he'd been bit. Gone? says he. Why? Where's Miss Dugena? I promise, sir, you've not to lose sight of her. So he said he'd go after her that very moment. Call me a boat, said he, just as if he'd ordered a hackney coach, for he knows about as much of wins and tides as my little Bayfilly that I bought of Holder yesterday for fifty pounds. But that I shall make worth seventeen less than a month. Well there was nothing to be had but a small fishing boat. So Bob wings at the man to take in a friend, for he has all those fellows in a string. So in went his Latin shape and off they put. Bob fell into such a fit of laughter. He says I might have heard him a mile off. I don't think Bob has his fellow upon earth for fun. Dugena now interrupted the narration with a serious inquiry where Dr. Orkman was at present. Linmir shouting at what he thought the ridical of this concern answered that Bob had told the fisherman to go about his own business, unless the doctor offered to pay him handsomely for taking him on board the jot, but thinking it would be a good joke to know what was become of him, he had gone himself, with Holder and some more choice plates to the beach about half an hour ago, to make Bob see if the fishing boat was coming. And by good luck they arrived at the very nick of time and saw the doctor, the fish and the fishing tackle, all hauled out together. The better side was never seen before. I promise you, continued Linmir, I thought I should quite have burst my sights with looking at him. He was so wet and so cold and so miserable, and when I thought of his having had no dinner I shouted till I was ready to roll on the beach, and he smelled so of the fish that I could have hugged Bob to a such monstrous court sport. He got three half-crowns in a minute for his ingenuity. Holder began, and two others have escaped two more. Poor Dr. Orkbon, and where is he now? said Eugenia. Why, we got about the fisherman, and then we had all the same fun over again. He says that at the first the poor gentleman was in a great taking, fretting and fuming and looking out for the yacht, and seeming almost beside himself for hurry to get to it, but after that he takes out a little red book and a pencil, and falls to writing just as hard as if he had come into the boat for nothing else. In so much that when they were just coming alongside the yacht he never lifted up his head, nor listened to one word but kept making emotion with his hand to be let alone, and when the man said the Jot would be passed he bid him hold his peace, and not interrupt him so in such a pettish manner that the man resolved to take honest Bob's advice and go on about his own business. And so he did, and the doctor was as content as a lord till he had scribbled all he could scratch out of his noddle, but then came the best sport of all, for when he had nothing more to write, and looked up and saw the boat stock still, and the man fishing at his leisure, and heard the Jot had been bound homeward for a good hour, he was in such a perillious passion. The man says that he actually thought he'd have jumped overboard, I'll bet what you will, he won't ask Bob to call him a boat again in a hurry. As to his behaviour, said Miss Marglund, it's the last thing in the world to surprise me after what I have seen myself, nor anybody else I believe neither. Who is Dr Orkborn? I doubt much if anybody ever heard his name before, I should like to know if anybody can tell who was his grandfather. He then declared if she could get any soul to fetch him, he should still come if it were only that he might not pass the evening all in his own way, which would be just the thing to encourage him to hide himself out of sight on purpose not to help them another time. Tutania was going to beg he might not be disturbed when Melmont all alacrity to cease any means of absenting himself from the two cousins, who produced in him so severe a conflict offered his services to carry a message to the doctor, which being readily accepted he set off. Indiana and Eugenia, not folly without similarity of sensation, looked after him. Indiana had now caught his eye, and though quickness was no part of her character, the tale told had convinced her that her power, though no longer acknowledged, was not extinguished. It required neither elemental precepts nor seditious perceptions to make this discovery, and she exultingly determined to appease her late modification by reducing him to her feet. She stopped not to inquire what such a step might be to Eugenia nor what was likely or even desirable to be its event, where narrow minds imagine they have received injury, they seek revenge rather than redress, from an opinion that such a conduct asserts their own importance. Still vainly and wretchedly, the eyes of Camilla sought Edgar. The eaning advanced, but he came not, yet catching at every possible chance for hope. She thought some other room that they had not visited might be open for company, where finally they might meet. Dr. Orkborn accompanied Melmond back. Miss Marglen was preparing him a reproachful reception, but was so much offended by the fishy smell which he brought into the room, that she had immediate recourse to her salts, and besought him to stand out of her way. He complied without reluctance, though with high disdain. The young ladies were all dancing. Indiana had no sooner precede Melmond than she determined to engage his attention. The arts of coquetry require but slender parts, where the love of admiration is potent. She pretended therefore to feel extremely ill, put her hand to her forehead, and telling her partner, Mr. Holder, she could not stand another minute, hastened to Miss Marglen, and cast herself as if fainting upon her neck. This had all the success with Melmond, that his own lively imagination could give it. He flew to a side-table to get her a glass of water, which his trembling hand could scarce hold, but which she recede from him with a languishing sweetness, that he sold every tie but of love, and he hung over her enumerable. While Miss Marglen related that she could hardly keep from fainting herself, so much she had been shocked and disordered by the horrid smell of Dr. Orpon. Indiana now caught the infection, and protested she was so much worse that if she had not a little air, she should die. Melmond was flying to open a window, but a lady who sat close to it objected, and he had then recourse to two folding doors leading to a portico open to a large garden. Here Indiana permitted herself to be led, and led by the thrice happy, yet thrice miserable Melmond. Miss Marglen was accompanying them, but Lady Perville, advancing to inquire what went wrong, gave her an opportunity irresistible to invade against Dr. Orpon, and as her well-bred hearer, though little interested in such a detail, would not interrupt it. Indiana arrived alone in the portico with Melmond. The hearer who had danced with her followed, but supposing Melmond the favored man walked singing off, and made the tour of the garden. The situation was to Melmond as dangerous as to Indiana it was exalting. She now suddenly withdrew her hand, with an air of poignant disdain, which the illuminated portico and house made amply visible, and when surprised and much moved, he tremblingly inquired. If she were worse, she answered, Why do you ask? I am sure you do not care. Easily depraved of all forbearance. Heavens, he exclaimed, do I live yet suffer this imputation. O divine Indiana, load me with every other reproach rather than this dreadful charge of insensibility to all that is most lovely, most perfect upon earth. I thought, said Indiana, again softening her fine eyes, you had quite forgot me, and all the vows you made to me. Wretched that I am, cried Melmond, nearly distracted by this charge, and by the regret at losing him, which seemed its purpose, and to every species a woe. O fair Angelic Indiana, in a cottage with you would I have dwelt more delightedly and more proudly than any potentate in the most gorgeous palace, but alas, from you formed to enchant all mankind, and at grace to every dignity, from you could I dare ask such a sacrifice. Indiana now listened with an attentive softness, no longer facetious, though all her views wafted her to splendor and high life. Her ear could not withstand the romantic sound of love and a cottage, and though no character was ever less formed to know and taste, the blessing such a spot may bestow, and reciprocate. She imagined she might there be happy. For she considered such a habitation but as a bower of eglantine and roses, in which she might repose and be adored all day long. Melmond saw but too quickly the relenting cast of her countenance, and ecstasy and despair combated which should bear sway in his breast. Ah, madam, he cried, most adorable and most adored of women, you know my terrible situation, but you know not the sufferings nor the constancy of my heart, the persecution of friends, the pressure of distress, the hopelessness of my idolized Indiana. A deep sigh interrupted him. It came not from Indiana. Startled he looked round and beheld Eugenia, leaning against the door by which she seemed to have intended entering, pale, petrified, aghast. Shame now tied his tongue, and tingled with quick reproach through his whole frame. He looked at Indiana with despair, at Eugenia with remorse. Injured rectitude and blushing honor urged him to the swift determination of so every way terrible a scene, and bowing low to Eugenia. I durst not, madam, he cried, ever hope for your pardon, yet I rather deluded myself than deceived you when I ventured to solicit your acceptance. Alas, I am a bankrupt, both in fortune and in heart, and can only pray you will hasten to forget that you may forbear to execrate me. He then disappeared, finding a way out by the garden to avoid re-entering the ballroom. Eugenia, who in this speech comprehended an eternal adieu, sunk upon the seat of the portico, cold, shivering, almost lifeless. Little prepared for such an event, she had followed Indiana the moment she was disengaged from the dance, not suspicious of any tetatet from believing holder of the party. The energy of Melmont made her approach unheard, and the words she unavoidably caught nearly turned her to marble. Indiana was sorry for her distress, yet felt a triumph in its cause, and wondered how so plain a little creature could take it into her head to think of marrying. Camilla now joined them affrighted at the evident anguish of Eugenia, who leaning upon her affectionate bosom had the relief excited by Pity, of bursting into tears, while despondingly she uttered, All is over my sister, and over for life with Eugenia. Melmont flies and detests me. I am odious in his sight. I am horror to his thoughts. Camilla wept over her in silent but heartbreaking sympathy. Indiana returned to the dance, but the two suffering sisters remained in the portico till summoned to depart. They were insensible to the night air from the fever of their minds. They spoke no more. They felt the insufficiency of words to express their grieves, and their mutual compassion was all that softened their mutual sorrows. End of chapter 2, read by Lars Rolander. Book 9, Chapter 3 of Camilla. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Reading by Lars Rolander. Camilla or a Picture of Youth by Fanny Burnie, Chapter 3. An Adieu Lost to all happiness and for the first time in her life divested of hope, Camilla at a late hour returned to Mrs. Burlington's, and here her heartbreaking disappointment received the cruel aggravation of the most severe self-reproach. When, in facing the mirror to deposit her ornaments upon the toilet table, she considered the expensive elegance of her whole dress, now even in her own estimation, by its abortive purpose rendered glaringly extravagant. Since her project had failed, she saw the impropriety of having risked so much in its attempt, and a train of just reflections ensued to which her understanding was always equal, though her deity was seldom disposed. Would Edgar, thought she, wait the event of a meeting at a ball to decide his conduct? Had he not every title to claim a conference with me, if he had the smallest inclination, rejected as he calls himself, I had not pretended to demand our separation from any doubts, any displeasure of my own. From the moment he suffered me to quit, without reclamation, the roof under which I had proposed our parting, I ought to have seen it was but his own desire, perhaps design I was executing, and all the reluctance he seemed to feel, which so weakly I attributed to regard, was but the expiring sensibility of the last moment of intercourse. Not with murmurs, he says, he will quit me, nor with murmurs will I now resign him. With blessings, he says, he leaves me, O Edgar, mayst thou too be blessed. The airing and unequal Camilla deserved thee not. A more minute examination of her retire was not calculated to improve her serenity. Her robe was everywhere edged with the finest Valenciennes lace. Her liliac shoes, sash, and gloves were richly spangled with silver, and finished with the silver fringe. Her earrings and necklace were of lilac and gold beads. Her fan and show roses were brilliant with liliac foil, and her bouquet of artificial lilac flowers, and her plumes of lilac feathers, were here and there tipped with the most tiny transparent white beads, to give them the effect of being glittering with a dew. Of the cost of all this she was no judge, but certain its amount must be high. A warm displeasure arose against the incorrigible Mrs. Mittin, who had not only taken the pattern, but the value of Mrs. Berlin's dress for her guide, and a yet greater dissatisfaction ensued with herself for trusting the smallest commission to sow vain and ungovernable an agent. She could only hope to hoard the payment from the whole of her next year's allowance by living in so forebearing and retired a manner as to require nothing for herself. The new but all-powerful guest, which now assailed her, unhappiness had still kept her eyes from closing, when she was called up to Mr. Tennant, the landlord of Higdon. Her fuller knowledge of her own hopeless depths could not make her faithless to her engagement, for her acquaintance with Misery awakened but more pity for the Misery of others. She admitted him therefore without timour, and found he was a land surveyor who had often been employed by Sir Euget Cleaves. He accepted her verbal promise to be answerable for the rent now due, declining her note of hand, which her minority made illegal, and engaging not to hurry her for the money, well satisfied by the Tyrrell character in the whole county, he might abide by her word of honour founded upon known munificence of her uncle. This delay was a relief as it saved a partial demand that must have forced an abrupt confession of her own depths, or have deceived the Baronet into a belief she had nothing to solicit. When this business was transacted, she hastened to Eugenia to console whose sufferings was all that could mitigate her own. One of the maids then came to say she had forgotten to inform her that, some time after she had set out for Lord Purvis, a stranger, much muffled up and with a hat flapped over his face so as fully to hide it, had inquired for her, and seen much disturbed when he heard she was at the ball, but said he would call again the next day at noon. No conjecture occurred to Camilla, but that this must be Edgar. It was contrary to all probability, but no other image could find way to her mind. She hastened inexpressibly perturbed to her sister, determining to be at home before twelve o'clock, and fashioning to herself all the varieties such a meeting could afford. One of which, however, they began, ended regularly with a reconciliation. She found Eugenia weeping in bed. She embraced her with the extremist tenderness. Ah! My sister! said the unhappy mourner. I weep not for my disappointment great as it may be, and I do not attempt describing it. It is but my secondary sorrow. I weep, Camilla, for my own infatuation, for the folly, the blindness of which I find myself culpable. O Camilla! Is it possible I could ever, for a moment, a single moment, suppose Melmont could willingly be mine? Could see his exquisite susceptibility of everything that is most perfect? Yet persuade myself he could take by choice the poor Eugenia for his wife, the mangled, deformed, unfortunate Eugenia. Camilla touched to the heart, wept now more than her sister. That Eugenia, she cried, has but to be known to leave all beauty, all figure, every exterior advantage aloof by the nobler, the more just superiority of intrinsic worth, let our estimates but be mental, and who will not be proud to be placed in parallel with Eugenia. She was then beginning her own sad relation, when an unopened letter upon the toilet-table caught her eye. It had been placed there by Molly Mill, who thought her mistress asleep. Struck by the shape of the seal, Camilla rose to examine it. What was her palpitation, then to see the cypher E.M., and turning to the other side to perceive the handwriting of Edgar? She put it into her sister's hand, with expectation too big for speech. Eugenia opened it, and they read it silently, together. To Miss Eugenia, Tyrold, Southampton. This yet but a short time in every count but my own, since I thought myself forming a legal claim to address Miss Eugenia Tyrold as my sister. Every other claim to that affectionate and endearing title has been hers beyond her own memory. Hers by the feeling and love I bear her venerated parents. Hers by the tender esteem due to the union of almost every virtue. These first and early ties must remain forever. Disappointment here cannot pierce her barbarous shafts. Eugenia cannot wanton in reversing, nor can time dissolve them. Oh Edgar! exclaimed Camilla, stopping the reading, and putting her hand as in benediction upon the paper. Do you deign to talk of disappointment? Do you condescend to intimate? You are unhappy. Ah, my Eugenia, you shall clear this dreadful error. Tis to you, he applies, you shall be peacemaker, restorer. Eugenia dried her tears at the thought of so sweet an office, and they read on. Of the other, yet nearer, claim, I will not speak. You have probably known longer than myself its annihilation, and I will not pain your generous heart with any view of my sufferings in such a deprivation. I write but to take with my pen the leave I dare not trust myself to take by word of mouth, to wish to your opening prospects all the happiness that has flown mine, and to entreat you to answer for me to the whole of your loved family, that its name is what through life my heir with most reverence will hear, my heart with most devotion will love. Edgar Mandelbert At the kind wish upon her own opening prospects, Eugenia wept afresh, but when Camilla took the letter to pressed her lips and her heart what he said of his sufferings, she perceived at the doubling down two lines more. I am this moment leaving Southampton for the Isle of Wight, whence I shall sail to the first port, that the first vessel with which I may meet shall be bound. No, my dear Eugenia, cried she, then colouring and putting down the letter. Your mediation will be spared. He acquaints us, he is quitting England. He can only mention it to avoid the persecution of an answer, certainly none shall be obtruded upon him. Eugenia pleaded that still a letter might overtake him at the Isle of Wight, and all misunderstanding might be rectified. And then my sister all may be well, and your happiness renewed. It has not flown you like that of Eugenia from any radical cause. Hers is not, only gone past all resource, but has left behind it disgraced with sorrow, derision with disappointment. Camilla strode to soothe her, but would no longer listen to any mediation. She resolved at once to write of the separation to her father, and beseech him to send for her to Edrington, and never again suffer her to quit that truth, where alone her peace was without disturbance, her conduct without reproach. Even her depths now she felt equal to a vowing, for as far from contracting new ones she meant in future to reside in complete obscurity. She hoped the feelings of this moment would procure pardon for her indiscretions, which her own sedulious future economy should be indefatigable to repair. Eugenia would not strive longer against a procedure which she deemed dignified, and the departure of Camilla was hurried by a messenger, who brought word that the strange man with a flapped hat was returned and entreated her for heaven's sake to let him speak with her one moment. Led now to the hope she had entertained of this inquirer, she merely, from his own urgency, complied with his call, for her curiosity was gone, since she now knew it could not be Edgar. Edgar indeed was actually departed. His heart was loaded with sorrow. His prospects seemed black with despondence. But Camilla was lost to that perfect confidence, and unbounded esteem he required to feel for his wife, and no tenderness without them, no partial good opinion, nor general admiration, could make him wish to lead her to the altar. No, cried he, Dr. Marchmont, you judge me better than my first passion, and her untried steadiness enabled me to judge myself, misery only could have followed my view of her in the mixed society in which the thousand accidents of life might occasionally have placed us. I can only be happy with a character as simple in the world as in retirement, as artless at an assembly, as in a cottage. Without that heavenly simplicity, the union of all else that renders life desirable were vain without that all her enchanting qualities, with which nothing can vie, and which are entwined around my heartstrings, were ineffectual to my peace. You are right, said the doctor, and your timely caution and early wisdom will protect you from the bitterness of a personal experience like mine. With all the charms she assembles, her character seems too unstable for private domestic life, when a few years more have blunted the wild vivacity, the floating ambition, the changing propensities, which now render her inconsistent to others, and fluctuating even to herself, she may yet become as respectable as she must always be aimable. But now, whoever takes her from the circle in which she is playing will see her lost to all piety, though without daring to complain from the restraint of bidden duties which makes the bidder a tyrant. Edgar shrunk from such a part, and immediately prepared for his long projected tour. He had originally purposed visiting Mr. Tyrol before he set out, and conversing with him upon the state of danger in which she thought his daughter, but his tenderness for her feelings during his last adieu had beguiled him of this plan. Next it should prove painful, injurious, or inauspicious to her own views or designs in breaking to her friends their breach. He now addressed a few lines to his revered guardian, to be delivered by Dr. Marchmont, to whom he gave discretionary powers if any explanation should be demanded, though clogged with an earnest clause that he would neither advance nor confess anything that could hurt Camilla, even a moment, unless to avert from her some danger or substantiate some good. Dr. Marchmont determined to accompany him to the Isle of Wight with her he resolved to go, and wait for his baggage, and undertook the superintendence of his estate and affairs in his absence. When they were summoned to the little vessel, Edgar changed color, his heart beat quick, and his side rather than breathed. He held his hand upon his eyes and forehead for a few minutes, in agony inexpressible. Then silently gave his servant the letter he had written for Eugenia, took the doctor by the arm, walked to the beach, and got aboard. His head still turned folly towards the town, his eyes looking above it, as if seeking to fix the habitation of Camilla. Dr. Marchmont sought to draw his attention another way, but it was just reverted to the spot they were quitting. I feel truly your unhappiness, my dear Mandelbert, said he, that this young creature with defect so-so cruel a tendency mingles qualities of so endearing a nature. Judge, however, the predominance of what is faulty, since parents so exemplary have not been able to make the scales way down on the side of Wight. Alas! Mr. Thurold has himself erred in committing at so early a period her conduct into her own reins. The very virtues in the first youth are so little regulated by reflection, that were not watched nor aided they run into extremes nearly as pernicious, though not so unamable as the vices. What instance more than this now before us can show the futility of education, and the precariousness of innate worth, when the contaminating world is allowed to cease its inexperienced prey before the character is fixed as well as formed? A deeply ascending sigh broke from the bosom of Edgar, who strained eyes held their purpose till neither beach nor town nor even a spiral of Southampton were discernible. When then, for a moment, he covered them with his hand and exclaimed, Far well, Camilla, far well! End of Chapter 3, read by Larsh Rolander. Book 9, Chapter 4 of Camilla This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Reading by Larsh Rolander. Camilla or a Picture of Youth by Fanny Burnie, Chapter 4 A Modest Request Quick, though without a wish of speed, was the return home of Camilla. She felt at this moment in that crushed and desolate state where the sudden extinction of hope leaves the mind without energy to form even a wish. She was quick only because too nervous to be slow and hurried on so little knowing why that when she came to Mrs. Burlington's, she was running to her own room, folly forgetting what had called her from Judea till the servant said, This is the man, ma'am! She then saw, parading up and down the hall, a figure wrapped round in a dark blue rock-a-law with no part of his face visible from the flaps of his hat. At another time she might have been startled, but she was now indifferent to everything, and only inquired what was his business. He made no answer but by a low bow pointing at the same time to the door of one of the parlours, and then in a supplicating manner put in together his hands as if begging to speak to her in private. Careless rather than courageous, she was going into an empty room with him when the servant whispered her to be upon her guard, as the man had a very suspicious look. Stopping short then, she again repeated her question adding, I can hear anything you have to say where we now are. The stranger shook his head with emotion to watch the servant that seemed to demand his absence. Alas, thought she, it is some gentleman in distress who wants to dig and is ashamed. I have nothing to give him. I will at least therefore not insist upon his exposing himself. She then whispered the footman to keep in the hall and near the parlour which she entered, telling the incognito he might follow. What she was seriously alarmed out of her apathy upon seeing him cautiously shut the door and seduously examine the apartment. She wanted not presence of mind when not robbed of it by some peculiar and poignant feelings. She turned immediately to the bell, certain its first touch would bring in the footman, but perceiving her purpose, the stranger seized her by the arm and in a hoarselow voice said, Are you mad, Camilla? Don't you know me? And she recognized her brother. She expostulated upon his having so causelessly terrified her and inquired why he came so disguised. He laughed heartily at her fright and extolled his own skill in personating a subtle ruffian, declaring he liked to have a touch at all trades in case of accidents. And have you come here, the Lionel, only for this foolish and very unpleasant trick? Oh, no, my dear, this was only for my opening. I have a hundred smart freaks in my head, any one of them worth a little trip to Southampton. Besides, I wanted to know what you were about. How does a certain master engarmandle but do? Don't blush, child, what a little sly roosh you have been. Hate who? Tears, my dear Camilla, what's all this? She entreated him to make his inquiries of Eugenia. Well, you took me in, I promise you. I fully thought the young Baronet had been the man, and, really, he's as fine a fellow as I ever saw. Do not speak of him, my peg, oh Lionel, if you knew. She was going to say how through your means that a ferris injured me, but she checked complaints which he now regarded as useless, and therefore degrading, and wiping her eyes, asked if he had yet considered the large sum for the obligation of which he had made her seem responsible to Sir Sedley, whom she should not know, however to meet, nor consequently, however to visit in the county, till some payment, if not made, were at least arranged. Poo, poo, my dear child, don't be so vellum-like. You'll be fit for nothing soon, but to file bills and score accounts. What's two hundred to him? Hang him. I wished were as much again. I hate making a fuss about nothing, but come tell me something to raise my spirits. I'm horribly melancholy. I've some notion of making a little sport here with Miss Scarecrow. How does she go on? Waspish as ever. Do tell me seriously, Lionel, what it is has brought you hither. Two things, my dear. The first of which is the pleasure of seeing you, and the second is a little amusement I propose myself with old Dr. Hick-Huck-Hock. I found Clermont's had rare sport with him already. It's used unlucky I did not come sooner. Clermont? When did you see Clermont? Don't be curious, child. I never encourage curiosity. It always leads to disagreeable questions. You may tell me anything you please, but ask nothing. That's my manner of dealing with little girls. How did you like my sending the major to you? Was not that good fudge? What do you look so grave for, my dear? You're enough to give one the vapours. Camilla attempted not to rally. She felt pierced as by a ponyard at the very site of Lionel. The debt he had made her contract with Sir Sedley, the secrecy it exacted, the correspondence it had drawn on, the cruel circumstances it had produced, and the heartbreaking event to which it had ultimately led made his view excite sensations too corrosive and reflections too bitter for any enjoyment of a piety which her utmost partiality could not disentangle from levity the most unfeeling. Come, come, for pity's sake, be a little less stupid. I conjured you. How terribly you want a good shaking! Shall I give you one? By the way, you have never thanked me for sending you that smart young tinker. You are horribly ungrateful to all my tender care to provide you a good spouse. What, not a smile? Not one, dear little dimple, for all my rattle! Nay, then, if that's the case, let's do business at once. Anything is better than mockiness. I always preferred being flogged for a frolic to being told I was a good boy at the expense of sitting still and learning my lesson. And what business, my dear Lionel, have you really any? Oh, yes, always. Nobody has more. Only I do it so briskly. People always suppose it nothing but pleasure. However, just at this minute I'm really in rather an ugly dilemma. You know, my dear girl, there is a certainly rather awkward affair of mine which I once hinted to you. I hope at least. Oh, none of your hopes with that grave face. Hope with the grave face always means fear. Now, as I am already half-shoes over in the slow of this bond, it will be horrid, ungenerous to poke me still lower. Camilla now began to tremble and would ask no questions. Lionel, when he had silenced her, seemed at loss how to proceed. He walked about the room with quick jerks, opened and shut the window, seated himself upon every chair and every table. And then, in a half-passion, said, So you don't want to hear any more? And you don't care a fig if I'm hanged or drowned? My spirits are not high, my dear Lionel, and my head is full and my heart is oppressed. If you have anything therefore important to say, speak, I beg, without trifling. No, there is nothing new, so don't look frightened. It's on the same old story. You continue, then, that dark mysterious connection, oh brother? Why, she's so pretty, so monstrous-pretty, besides she dotes upon me. You don't half-conceive what a pretty fellow I am, Camilla. A sister never knows how to judge a man. All the women like me prodigiously. Indeed, Lionel, you take an undue advantage of my affection. I must seriously insist that you mention this subject to me no more. I don't intend it. I intend to finish with this once provided you do me one last good turn. Will you now? Come, don't be queer. I will do nothing, absolutely nothing in so improper, so shocking a business. Indeed, I know not how to forgive you for naming it again. Well, then, I'll pledge you my word and honor you shall never hear of it more, if you'll only grant me this one favor. Displeased at the past and frightened for what might be to come, she protested she would immediately leave the room if he continued this persecution, adding, How affectionately I love you, I need not, I am sure, say, but a confidence such as this from a brother to sister disgraces us both, and let me penetrate but not irritate you if I own that I much doubt whether I ought not from the beginning to have revealed this transaction at Etherington. Do not be angry, Lionel, as not every consideration been surmounted by the fear of giving you pain. Finding he still would be heard she was peremptorily quitting the room, but when she had her hand upon the door he effectually stopped her by saying, Nay, then, if nothing will content you but getting the whole out at once, you may make yourself easy. The business is at end for we're blown. I must certainly be glad if such a business is at an end, Lionel, but how do you mean blown? To whom? In what manner? To everybody, I'm afraid, for the husbands upon the point of getting at it. Husband? Oh, the juice! I did not mean to say that. However, it's out, and as it must have been known sooner or later. Camilla now had an heir the nearest to severity she had ever worn. Adieu, Lionel, she cried. I'm sorry for you indeed, but you must find another hearer for this guilty history. I will listen no more. Lionel now detained her by force. How can you take up the thing so wrong, said he? When I tell you it's over, isn't that enough? Besides, I promise you I have not wanted for my punishment. When you hear all, you'll find that. Too sick for speech, yet too weak for resistance, she was constrained to return to her seat and hear what he pleased to relate. My adventure, my dear, was discovered entirely by the want of a little hush money, tis the very juice and all for a man to be in love when he is poor. If I had only had a little hush money, yes, yes, I understand that I, but as to those paltry sums I have had from time to time since this affair, why they could not be expected to last forever, and the first went to a housemaid and the second to the groom and the third. Lionel, Lionel, is this a communication? Are these particulars for me? Nay, I only mention it to let you know it's all gone fairly. Besides, as to her being a married woman, which I see is what you think so much the worst of all, I assure you, if you knew her husband, you would not wonder. He deserves everything. Such a tiresome quiz. It was often ours before we could get rid of him. You never knew such a blockade. The poor thing can't bear him, but she's fond of me to destruction. Nay, nay, don't frown so. If you'll believe me, Camilla, you'll quite spoil your face. Well, the fellow that threatens to betray us won't keep our secrets under 300 pounds. There's an unconscionable nave. However, I thought that better than a trial, too. Not that she would have broken the heart at a separation, you'll believe, but then there's a certain horrid thing called damages. And then my father's particularities and my mother's seeing things in such strong lights, and a parson's son, and all that. Camilla shaking and pale now entreated him to get her a glass of water, and, for a while at least, to forebear continuing this terrible story. He consented to ring for the water, and then, more briefly, went on. Finding it weighing to hope any longer for entire concealment, I thought a private discovery less shocking than a public one, and, therefore, telling my story as well as I could, I stated that 300 pounds would say both the expenses and publicity of a trial, and with every possible profession of contrition and reformation, I humbly petitioned for that sum from my uncle. My poor uncle, alas, what unreasonable, unmerciful claims every way surround him. He's well-revenged for mine, I promise you. There's no plague lost between us, as you'll own, when you've heard the end of my poor petition. I followed up my letter according to my usual custom, the next day in order to receive my money, knowing poor uncle hates writing worse than giving. Well, and when I arrived, my mind just made up to a few gentle reprimands naughtiness, and as many gentle promises to do so no more. Out pops me the old butler, and says his master can't see me. Not see me? Why, who's with him? Your father, sir. Oh, then for your life, Christ, I don't say I have been here, but now, Camilla, will you think me punished or not? My uncle had a little gout in his right hand and had made my father open and read that very day all his letters. If ever you knew old Nick serve a poor young fellow a worse turn, then that tell me so. I owe him such a grudge for it. I could almost find in my heart to turn parts on myself. Camilla could not utter a word. She dropped her head over her folded arms upon the table to hide her offending brother from her sight. Whom now placed in opposition to her all-excellent father, she blamed beyond her powers, beyond what she conceived even her rights of expression. Why now, my dear Camilla, what do you hide your face for? Do you think I'm not as sorry for this thing as you can be for the life of you? However, now comes the worst, and if you don't pity me when you hear this, you may depend upon it, you have no bowels. I was making off as fast as I could. Mum the word to the servants. When in comes old Jacob with a letter, I snatched it from him hoping my uncle had privately sent me a draft, but the direction was written by my father. Don't you begin to feel a little for me now? She could only raise her head to ejaculate. My poor, poor father! And then nearly in an agony drop it again. Hey, dear Camilla, how's this? What not one word of poor, poor brother to? Why, you are harder than flint. However, read that letter, and then if you don't think me the most unhappy young fellow in existence, you are fit to devise tortures for the inquisition. She took the letter eagerly, yet awfully, kissed in weeping the handwriting, and read what follows. To Lionel Tirol de Esquire To have brought up my family with the purity of principle, which the holy profession of their father ought to inspire him to teach, has been from the hour that my paternal solicitudes commenced, the most fervent of my prayers. How my hopes have been deluded you have but too long known, how grossly they have failed has reached my own knowledge but this moment. I here resign the vain expectation that through my son the community might bless me, may a forfeiture so dreed not extend to me also through my daughters. Camilla stopped, sank upon her knees, and Ivaki repeated the last sentence with her own ardent supplications joined to it before she could proceed. A few words more must for the present suffice between us, accident by throwing into my hands this last letter to the uncle whose goodness you have most unwarrantably and unfeelingly abused, has given birth to an investigation by which I have arrived at the discovery of the long course of rapacity by which you have pillaged from the same source. Henceforth you will find it dry. I have stated to my brother the mistake of his compliance and obtained his solemn word that all intercourse between you that has not my previous acrobation shall here finally cease. You will now therefore empty no more those covers which but for you have only been open to the just claims of benevolence. You will regard this detection as the wrath of ill fortune. I view it on the contrary as the mercy of providence. What were further pecuniary exonerations but deeper plunges into vilifying disolute-ness? If as you intimate the refusal of your present demands will expose you to public shame, may its shock awaken feelings that may restore you to private virtue. I cannot spare you from disgrace by aiding you in corruption. I cannot rescue you from worldly dishonor by hiding and abetting crimes that may unfold to eternal misery. To error I would be lenient. To penitence I would be consoling. To reformation I would open my arms. But to him who confesses his guilt only to save himself from punishment. To him who would elude the incurred penalties of his wickedness by shamelessly soliciting a respectable old relation to use bribery for its concealment. To him I can only say, since all precepts of virtue have failed to show thee its excellence, go. Learn of misfortune, the evils, at least of vice. Pay to the laws of society what retribution they require for their violation and if suffering should lead to contrition and seclusion from the world bring thee back to rectitude. Then thou mayst find again thy father. Augustus Tirolt. Another name I mention not. I present not to this solid page an image of such purity, yet if thy own thoughts dare paint it to thy view, will not thy heart. O Lionel, smite thee and say, From her native land, from her sorrowing husband, from daughters just opening into life, by my follies and indiscretions I have driven my mother, by my guilt I shall make her blush to return to them. Camilla wept over this letter till its characters were almost effaced by her tears. To withhold from her father the knowledge of the misconduct of Lionel, what had she not suffered, what not sacrificed, yet to find it all unawailing, to find him thus informed of his son's wanton calls for money, his culpable connection, and his just fears of seeing it published and punished, and to consider with all this that Edgar, through these unpardonable deviations from right, was irretrievably lost to her, excited sorrow the most depressing for her father, and regret scared supportable for herself. Well, cried Lionel, what do you think of my case now? Don't you allow I pay pretty handsomely for a mere young man's gamble? I assure you I don't know what might have been the consequence if Jacob had not afforded me a little comfort. He told me you were going to be married to Squire Mandelbert, and that you were all at Southton, and that he was sure you would do anything in the world to get me out of jeopardy. And so, thinking pretty much the same myself, here I am. Well, what do you say, Camilla? Will you speak a little word for me to Edgar? Shame now taking place of affliction stopped her tears, which dried upon her burning cheeks as she answered. He's well known to you, Lionel. You can address him yourself. No, that's your mistake, my dear. I have a little odd money matter to settle with him already, and besides, we've had a sort of a falling out upon the subject. For when I spoke to him about it last, he gave himself the heirs of an old justice of the peace, and said if he did not find the affair given up, nothing should induce him ever to help me again. What a mere culture that lad has turned out! Ah, noble Edgar! Just high principled and firm, half pronounced Camilla while again the icicles dissolved and trickled down her face. See but the different way in which things strike people, however it is not very pretty in you, Camilla, to praise him for treating me so scurvily. But come, does think he lend me the money? Lend, repeated she significantly. I lend, for I shall pay it every farthing and everything else. And how and when? Why, with old Uncle Relwy's fortune. For shame, brother! Nay, nay, you know as well as I do, I must have it at last. Who else has he to leave it to? Come, will you beg the three hundred for me? He dare not refuse you, you know, in your day of power. Lionel! cried she with extreme emotion. I shall see him no more, nor perhaps may you. He has left England. Impossible! Why, Jacob told me, Anki was working night and day at preparations for your keeping the wedding at Cleves. I cannot talk upon this subject. I must beseech you to reserve your inquiries for Eugenia. I must go to her then, directly. I have not a moment to lose. If you won't make Edgar help me in this business, and I know he won't do it of his own accord. I'm utterly done up. There will remain but one single thing for me. So now for my rockler. But do only tell me, Camilla, if you ever knew such a poor unlucky white. For before I came to you, certainly it would not be easy to make that young prick do anything he had already declared against. I found out, cousin Clermont, what a handsome cockscomb that is. Well, I told him my case for one young fellow soon comprehends the difficulties of another and begged him to ask for the money of Uncle Eub, as if for himself, telling him that as he was a newcomer and a new beginner he could not so readily be refused and promising to serve him as good a turn myself when he had got a little into our ways and wanted it with my good Uncle Relville. Well, what do you think was the next news? It's enough to make a man's hair stand on end to see what a spite fortune has taken to me. Do you know he has got depths of his own, of one sort or another, that poor Anki has never heard of to the amount of upwards of a thousand pounds? He then muffled himself up and departed. End of Chapter 4, Read by Lars Rolander Book 9, Chapter 5 of Camilla This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Reading by Lars Rolander Camilla or a Picture of Youth by Fanny Burnie, Chapter 5 A Self-Dissection Camilla remained in a state of accumulated distress that knew not upon what object most to dwell. Her father shocked and irritated beyond the mild endurance of his character. Her brother went on his sporting with his family's honour and his own morals and reputation. Her uncle, preparing for nuptials, broken off without his knowledge. Edgar, by a thousand perversities of accident, of indiscretion, of misunderstanding, forever parted from her, rushed all together upon her mind. Each combating for precedence, each individually foiled, yet all collectively triumphant. Nor were even these her soul subjects of affliction. Yet another course was added in depths contracted from mingled thoughtlessness, inexperience, and generosity, augmented till she knew not what some, and to be paid by she knew not what means. And this topic, which in itself seemed to her the least interesting, soon by the circumstances with which it was connected, grew the most pressing of any. How at a moment like this could she make her purposed confession to her father, whose wounded mind demanded all she could offer of condolment? How call upon her uncle to be responsible for what she owed, when she now knew the enormous accounts preparing for him from Clermont, of which he was himself yet uninformed? Lionel soon returned. So it's really all off, he cried. Dame Fortune, me thinks has a mind to give me a taste of her art that I shan't easily forget. Giudina would tell me no particulars, but since things are thus, there is only one step left for poor Pilgerly. I must whisk over to the continent. To the continent without consulting my father, without? My father! Why, you see, he gives me up. He thinks I thank him. A little wholesome discipline will do me good. Don't you understand what he means by seclusion from the world? A prison, my dear, a jail. However, I'm not quite of that opinion. I really think a man's as well off in a little open air. So fare thee well, child. As soon as ever my dear Uncle Rel will say good night, I'll come home again and wish you all good morning. Lionel! Lionel! Well, well, I know it's very wrong and all that, so say nothing. Don't distress me, I beg, for I hate to be hit. Besides, Old Rel will don't deserve much better. Why can't he behave like a man and settle an annuity upon himself, and an old servant and a dog and a cat and a parrot, and then let an honest young fellow see a little of the world handsomely and like a gentleman? But your bachelor uncles and maiden aunts are the most tantalising fellows and fellow-esses in the creation. He then kissed her and was going, but earnestly detaining him, she conjured that he would let her first hint his design to their father. That at least it might be set aside if it would still more deeply disturb him. No, child, no! I know his way of reasoning already. He thinks every man should pay for what he owes, either with money or stripes. Now my poor dear little body is not of that opinion, and what would they get by having me shut up in a prison, and I'll defy him to cast me in any other damages. I have a few debts, too, of my own that makes me a little uneasy. I don't mean to trade people. They can wait well enough. Our credit is good, but a man looks horrid small walking about when he can't pay his debts of honour. However, when I disappear, perhaps my father will take compassion upon my character. If not, the relvilla state shall wipe off all in the long run. And is it possible, Lionel, thus slightly, thus negligently, thus unmoved you can plan such a journey, such an exile? Why, what can I do? What can I possibly do? I'm obliged to be off in my own defence, unless indeed I marry little Miss Dennell, which I have once or twice thought of, for she's a monstrous fool, but then she's very rich. How should you like her for a sister? Nay, nay, I'm serious. Don't shake your head as if I was joking. What do you think of her for my spouse? She's a good girl, I believe, Lionel, though a simple one, and I should be sorry to see her unhappy. And how could either of you be otherwise with contempt such as this? Bless thy heart, my little dear. What have husbands and wives to do with making one another unhappy? Prithee, don't set about forming by notions of married people from the parsonage house, and conclude a wife no better than a real rib, sneaking always close to a man's side. You grow so horrid sententious. I really begin to believe you intend to take out your diploma soon. And put on the surplus my father meant for his poor son. Alas, Lionel, how changed, how hard! Forgive me if I say, how hard must you be grown to be capable of gaiting and rattle at this period? You'll die an old maid, Camilla. Take my word for it, and I'm really sorry for you're not an ugly girl. You might have been got off, but come, don't look so melancholy at a little silly sport. The world is so full of sorrow, my dear girl, so little visited by happiness that cheerfulness is almost as necessary as existence in such a veil of tears. What can induce you to laugh, Lionel, at such words? I can't help it, Faith. I was thinking I spoke so like a parson's son. Camilla cost up her eyes and hands. Lionel, she cried, what have you done with your heart? Has it banished every natural feeling? Has the effecting letter of the best of fathers his cruel separation from the most excellent of mothers, and even your own dreadfully censorably conduct served but to amuse you with radical indirition? Camilla cried he taking her hands. You're wrong me. You think I have no feeling because I'm not always crying. However, shall I tell you the truth? I hate myself, and so completely hate myself at this moment that I dare not be grave, dare not suffer reflection to take hold of me, lest it should make life too odious for me to bear it. I have run on from folly to wickedness for want of thought and now thought is ready to come back. I must run from that for want of fortitude. What has bewitched me? I know no more than you, but I never meant to play this abominable part, and now if I did not flog up my spirits to prevent their flagging, I suppose I should hang or drown. And believe me, if I were condemned to the galleys I should think it less than I deserve, for I hate myself. I repeat, I honour my father, though I have used him so ill. I love my mother for all her due severity to the bottom of my soul. I would cut off my left arm for Lavinia and Eugenia, and for thee, Camilla, I would lop off my right. But yet, when some frolic or gamble comes into my way, I forget you all. Clear out of my memory, you all walk as if I had never beheld you. Camilla now embraced him with a deluge of tears and treated him to forgive the asperity his seeming want of all feeling had drawn from her and frequently to write to her and acquaint her how he went on and send his direction for her answers that so at least their father might know how he employed himself and have the power to give him counsel. But how, my poor Lionel, she added, how will you live abroad? How will you even travel? Why, as to how I shall live there, I don't know. But as well as I deserve easily. However, as to how I shall get there, look here, taking from his pocket a handful of guineas. That good little Eugenia has given me everything even to the last half-crown that she had at Southampton to help me forward. Dear, excellent, ever-generous Eugenia! Oh, that I could follow her example! But alas, I have nothing and worse than nothing! They have then affectionately embraced each other and parted. End of Chapter 5 Read by Lars Rolander Book 9, Chapter 6 of Camilla This is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Reading by Lars Rolander Camilla or a Picture of Youth by Fanny Burnie, Chapter 6 A Reckoning What Camilla experienced at this juncture she believed inadmissible of aggravation. Even the breaking off with Edgar seemed as a new misfortune from the new force which circumstances gave to its affliction. With his sympathizing aid how might she have softened the sorrows of her father? How have broken the shock of the blow Clermont was preparing for her uncle? But now, instead of lessening their griefs she must herself inflict upon them a heavier evil than any they had yet suffered. And how could she reveal tidings for which they were so fully unprepared? How be even intelligible in the history without exposing the guilty Lionel beyond all chance of pardon? Again she went to counsel with Georgina who with her usual disinterested affection proposed taking the painful business upon herself at their return home. Camilla with tears of gratitude accepted the sisterly office and resolved to devote the rest of a short time for Southampton to Mrs. Burlington who, shocked to see her evident unhappiness hung over her with the most melting tenderness bewailing alike the disappointment of Eugenia and the conduct of her brother who now with exquisite misery shut himself fully up in his room. This compassionate kindness somewhat softened her anguish but when the engagements of Mrs. Burlington called her away Mrs. Meakin burst briskly into her chamber. Well, my dear! cried she. I come with better news now than ever. Only guess what it is! Nothing could less conduce to the tranquility of Camilla than such a desire. Her conjecture always flowed into the channels of her wishes and she thought immediately that Mrs. Meakin had been informed of her situation and came to her with some intelligence of Edgar. Keeping her a full quarter of an hour in suspense at last said, Do you know Miss Dannell's going to be married though she was fifteen only yesterday and I am invited to the wedding? No surprise had ever yet produced less pleasure to Camilla who now ceased to listen though Mrs. Meakin by no means ceased to speak till her attention was awakened by the following sentence So as I am to go to town to shop with her at her own papa's desire you can give me the money, you know, my dear and I can pay off your ton bridge bills for you. She then took out of her pockets some accounts which she said she had just received though in fact they had been in her possession more than a week but till the invitation of Miss Dannell called her so pleasantly away she had thought it prudent to keep every motive in reserve that added importance to her stay Camilla with the utmost apprehension took the papers into her hands they were the bills from ton bridge of the milliner, the shoemaker the harbour dasher and the clover and amounted altogether to sixteen pounds The chief articles had been nearly forced upon her by Mrs. Meakin with assurances of their cheapness and representations of their necessity that joined to her entire ignorance of the enormous charges of fashion had led her to imagine four or five Guinness the utmost sum at which they could be estimated what now then was her horror if to sixteen pounds amounted the trifles she had had at ton bridge what calculation must she make of articles so infinitely more valuable that belonged to her debts at Southampton and to whom now could she apply the unhappy situation of her father was no longer an only reason to forebear such a call upon him Lionel still underage was flying the kingdom with debts which be they small as they might would to Mr. Terrell's limited income be as heavy as the more considerable ones of her cousin upon Sir Yu yet who besides could give her aid Eugenia whose yearly allowance according to her settled future fortune was five times that of her sisters had given what help she had in her power before she quitted cleaves upon the affair of the horse and all that remained of a considerable present made for her Southampton expedition by her uncle who in everything distinguished her as his successor and heiress she had just bestowed upon Lionel even as he had declared to her last half crown Mrs. Burlington whose tender friendship might in this emergence have encouraged solicitation was involved in depths of honour and wanted money for herself and to Mrs. Albury her only other acquaintance rich enough to give assistance and with whom she was intimate enough to ask it she already owed five guineas and how in conscience or decency could she address her for so much more when she saw before her no time no term upon which she could fix for restitution in this terrible state with no one to counsel her and no powers of self-judgment she felt a dreed of going home that rendered the coming day a day of horror though to a home to which either to she had turned as the first joy of her happiness or softest solace of any disturbance her filial affections were in their pristine force her short commerce with the world had dropped them of none of their vivacity her regard for Edgar whom she delighted to consider as a younger Mr. Tyrold had rather enlarged than divided them but to return a burden to an already burdened house an affliction to an already afflicted parent no, she broke out aloud I cannot go home I cannot carry calamity to my father he will be mild but he will look unhappy and I would not see his face in sorrow sorrow of my own creating for years of after joy she threw herself down upon the bed hid her face with a counter pain and wept in desperate carelessness of the presence of Mrs. Mitten and answering nothing that she said in affairs of this sort Mrs. Mitten had a quickness of apprehension which though but the attribute of ready cunning was not inferior to the keenest penetration possessed for deeper investigations by characters of more solid sagacity from the fear which Camilla in her anguish had uttered of seeing her father she gathered there must be some severe restriction in money concerns and without troubling herself to consider what they might be saw that to aid her at this moment would be the highest obligation and immediately set at work a brains as fertile in worldly expedience as it was barren of intellectual endowments informing a plan of present relief which she concluded would gain her a rich and powerful friend for life she was not long in suggesting a proposition which Camilla started up eagerly to hear almost breathless with the hope of any reprieve to her terrors Mrs. Mitten amongst her numerous friends counted a Mr. Clikes a moneylender a man she said of the first credit for such matters to the people of fashion in any difficulty if Camilla therefore would collect her debts this gentleman would pay them for a handsome premium and handsome interest till she was able at her own full leisure to return the principal with a proper present Camilla nearly embraced her with rapture for this scheme the premium she would collect as she could and the interest she would pay from her allowance certain that when her uncle was cleared from his embarrassments her own might be revealed without any serious distress she put therefore the fair folly into the hands of Mrs. Mitten besought her the next morning to demand all her Southampton bills to add to them those for the rent and the stores of Higdon and then to transact the business with Mr. Clikes promising to agree to whatever premium interest and present he should demand with endless acknowledgments to herself for so great a service she grieved to employ a person so utterly disagreeable to Edgar but overt immediate evil was ever resistless to her ardent mind the whole of the Southampton accounts were brought her early the next morning by the active Mrs. Mitten who now concluded that what she had conceived to be covetousness in Camilla was only the fear of a hard tyrant of a father who kept her so parsimoniously that she could allow herself no indulgence till the death of her uncle should endow her with her own rich inheritance had this arrangement not taken place before the arrival of the bills Camilla upon beholding them thought she should have been driven to complete distraction the earrings and necklace, silver fringes and spangles feathers, nosegay and show roses with the other parts of the dress and the fine Valencian edging came to 33 pounds the cloak also that cheapest thing in the world was nine Guinness and various small articles which Mrs. Mitten had occasionally brought in and others with which Camilla could not dispense came to another 5 pounds to this the rent for Higdon added 18 and the bill of stores which had been calculated at 30 was sent in at 37 the whole therefore with the 16 pounds from Tumbridge amounted to 118 pounds nine shillings struck to the very soul with the idea of what she must have endured to have presented at such a period so large an account either at Cleves or at Edrington she felt lifted into paradise by the escape of this expedient and lost sight of every possible future difficulty in the relief of avoiding so severe a present penalty by this means also the tradesmen would not wait and she had been educated with so just an abhorrence of receiving the goods and benefiting from the labors of others without speeding them their rights and their rewards that she felt despisable as well as miserable when she possessed what she had not repaid Mrs. Mitten was now invested with full powers for the agency which her journey to London would give her immediate means to execute she was to meet Miss Dennell there in two days to assist in the wedding purchases and then to accompany that young lady to her father's house in Hampshire when she could visit Edrington and finally arrange the transaction Camilla again thanking took leave of her to consign her few remaining hours to Mrs. Burlington who was impatient at losing one moment of the society she began sincerely to regret she had not more uniformly preferred to all other as sad now with cares as Camilla was with afflictions she had robbed her situation of nearly the only good which belonged to it and affluent power to gratify every luxury whether of generosity or personal indulgence her gaming to want of happiness added now want of money and Camilla with a sigh saw something more wretched because far deeper and more willful in error than herself they mingle their tears for their separate personal evils with the kindest consolation that either could suggest for the other till Camilla was told that Eugenia desired to see her in the parlor Mrs. Burlington ashamed yet delighted to meet her again when down at the same time she embraced her with fondness but ventured not to utter either apology or concern Eugenia was serious but composed sighed often yet both accepted and returned her caresses Camilla inquired if Miss Morgland expected them immediately Yes, she answered, but I have first a little business of my own to transact then turning to Mrs. Burlington and forcing a smile You will be surprised, she said, to hear me ask for your brother but I must see him before I can leave Southampton Mrs. Burlington hung her head There is certainly, she cried, no reproach she does not merit yet if you knew the respect they they Eugenia rang the bell making a slight apology but not listening to what Mrs. Burlington strode to say who, colouring and uneasy, still attempted to utter something softening to what had passed Be so good, said Eugenia, when the footman appeared to tell Mr. Melmont I beg to speak with him Camilla astonished and Mrs. Burlington silenced waited in an unpleasant pause the event Eugenia, absorbed in thought, neither spoke to nor looked at them nor moved till the door opened and Melmont, who durst not refuse so direct a summons though he would have preferred any punishment obeying it blushing, bowing and trembling entered the room She then started half heaved and half checked a sigh took a folded note out of her pocketbook and with a faint smile said I fear my desire must have been painful to you but you see me now for the last time I hope with any ill will She stopped for breath to go on Melmont amazed, striving vainly to articulate one word of excuse one profession even of respect Believe me, sir, she then continued Surprise was the last sensation I experienced upon a late transaction My extraordinary personal defects and deformity have been some time known to me though I cannot tell how I had the weakness of vanity not to think of them as I ought to have done but I see I give you uneasiness and therefore I will be more conceased Melmont confounded had bowed down his head not to look at her while Camilla and Mrs. Burlington both wept The sentiment, sir, she then went on Oh, my cousin have never been declared to me but it is not very difficult to me to divine what they may be All that is certain is the unkindness of fortune which forbids her to listen or you to plead to them This, sir, shall be my care She stopped a moment looking paler and wanting voice but presently recovering proceeded My happiness, let me say, to endeavor to rectify I have much influence with my kind uncle Can I doubt when I represent to him that I have just escaped making two worthy people wretched He will deny aiding me to make them happy No, the residence already intended at Cleves will still be open though one of its parties will be changed but as my uncle in a manner unexampled has bound himself in my favor from any future disposition of what he possesses I have ventured, sir, upon this paper to obviate any apprehensions of your friends for the unhappy time when that generous uncle can no longer act for himself She then unfolded and gave him the paper which contained these words I here solemnly engage myself if Miss Indiana Lindmer accepts with the consent of Sir Hugh Tyrold the hand of Frederick Melmont to share with them so united whatever fortune or estate I may be endowed with to the end of my life and to bequeath them the same equal portion by will after my death He then signed Eugenia Tyrold Unable to read yet conceiving the purport of the writing Melmont was at her feet She endeavored to raise him and though extremely affected said with an air of some pleasantry She was less surprised, sir or I shall conclude you thought me as frightful within as without But no, providence is too good necessarily deformed with a body Ah, madam, exclaimed Melmont fully overcome the noblest as well as softest of human hearts I perceived to be yours and were mine at my own disposal it must find you resistless No more, no more interrupted she penetrated with a pleasure in these words which she does not indulge You shall hear from me soon Meanwhile, be hope, your motto Friendship shall be mine She was then going to hold out her hand to him But her courage failed She hastily embraced Mrs. Burlington took the arm of Camilla and hurried out of the house followed by the footman who had attended her Melmont who had seen the motion of her hand now advancing, now withdrawn had given the universe to have stamped upon it his grateful reverence but his courage was still less than her own She seemed to him on the sudden transformed to a deity benignly employed to rescue and bless him but whose transcendent goodness he could only at a distance and in all humility adore Mrs. Burlington was left penetrated nearly as much as her brother and doubtful if even the divine Indiana could render him as happy as the exalted the incomparable Eugenia The two sisters found Mrs. Marglund in extreme ill-humour waiting their arrival and the whole party immediately quitted Southampton It not seldom occurred to Mrs. Marglund to be crossed merely as a mark of consequence but here the displeasure was as deep herself as with others She had entered Southampton with a persuasion Her fair pupil would make there the establishment so long the promised mead of her confinement and Indiana herself not knowing where to stop her sanguine and inflated hopes imagined that the fame of her beauty would make the place where it first was exhibited the resort of all of fashion in the nation and the opening of the scene had answered their fullest expectations No other name was heard but Indiana Linmer No other figure was admired No other face could bear examination But her triumph, though splendid, was short She soon found that the overtures of eyes were more ready than those of speech and though one young Baronet enchanted with her beauty immediately professed himself her lover He was disdained in the full assurance of higher offers and because a pair had addressed himself to Eugenia she saw not that he was succeeded by any other nor yet that he broke his own heart Men of taste after the first conversation found her more admirable to look at than speak with Adventurers soon discovered that her personal charms were her only dour The common herd were repulsed from approaching her by the repulsive manners of Miss Margland and all evinced that though a passion for beauty was still as fashionable as it was natural the time was passed when the altar of Hyman required no other incense to blaze upon it The governess therefore and the pupil quitted Southampton with equal disappointment and indignation The first foreseeing another long and yawning sojourn at Cleves The second firmly believing herself the most unaccountably ill-used person in the creation that one offer only had reached her and that without repetition though admired nearly to adoration she literally rather than metaphorically conceived herself a demi-goddess One solitary offerer to Eugenia of an every way drew in young noblemen though a blast both to the settlement and the peace of Indiana was to herself fully nulgatory Intent at that period upon dedicating forever to Melmond her virgin heart she was sorry upon his account for the application but gave it not upon her own a moment's consideration This proposition was made upon her first arrival and was followed by no other She was then by the account given to the master of the ceremonies by Miss Marglenn regarded as the heiress of Cleves but almost immediately after the report spread by Mrs. Mitten that Camilla was the true heiress gained such ground amongst the shopkeepers and then travelled so rapidly from gossip to gossip and house to house that Eugenia was soon no more thought of though a species of doubt was cast upon the whole party from the double assertion that kept off from Camilla also the fortune seekers of the place but another rumor got abroad that soon entirely cleared Eugenia not merely of lovers but acquaintances namely her studies with Dr. Orkbon this was a prevailing theme of spite with Miss Marglenn when the doctor had neglected and displeased her and a topic always at hand for her spleen when it was angered by other circumstances not so easy to blame or mention this shortly made Eugenia stared at still more than her peculiar appearance the Mrs. in Tittering ran away from the learned lady the bore contemptuously sneering rejoiced she was too ugly to take in any poor fellow to marry her some imagined her studies had stinted her growth and all were convinced her education had made her such a fright of the whole party the only one who quitted Southampton in spirits was Dr. Orkbon he was delighted to be no longer under the dominion of Miss Marglenn who though she never left him tranquil in the possession of all he valued his leisure and his books and papers eternally annoyed him with reproaches upon his absence non-attendance and ignorance of high life asking always when angry if anyone had ever heard who was his grandfather the doctor in return despising like most who have it not whatever belonged to noble birth regarded her and her progenitors as the pest of the human race frequently when incensed by interruption exclaiming were intellect is uncultivated what is man better than a brute or woman than an idiot nor was his return to his own room books and hours under the roof of the indulgent Sir Yu the only relief of his removal he knew not of the previous departure of Dr. Marchman and he was glad to quit a spot where he was open to a comparison which he felt to be always to his disadvantage so much more powerful and more prominent his character than education that no two men could be more different than Dr. Marchman and Dr. Orkborn though the same university had finished their studies and the same passion, pursuit and success in respect to learning had raced and had spread their names and celebrity the first with all his scholastic endowments was a man of the world and a grace to society his position equally respectable was fully lost to the general community and alive only with his pen and his books they enjoyed indeed in common that happy and often sole reward of learned labors the privilege of snatching some care from time, some repining from his fortune by ceasing for themselves and their own exclusive use the whole monopoly of mind to the same extension the things and peoples of this lower square were studiously by Dr. Orkborn sunk in oblivion by the domineering prevalence of the alternate transport and toil of intellectual occupation Dr. Marchman on the contrary though his education led to the same propensities still held his fellow creatures to be of higher consideration than their productions without such extravagance in the pursuit of his studies he knew it the happy provings of literary occupations were voluntary to observe worldly solitudes and banish for a while even mental anxieties and though the charm may be broken by every fresh intrusion of calamity it unites again with the first retirement and without diminishing the feelings of social life has a power time to time to set aside their sufferings End of chapter 6 read by Loesch Rolander