# Duty and Inclination/Chapter 24

CHAPTER III.
"An open foe may prove a curse,
But a pretended friend is worse."
Gay.
Having landed in Wales, the General and his family, after a due interval of repose, pursued their journey through the beautifully diversified and mountainous country which lay before them.
On account of the extreme debility of Oriana, they made but easy journeys. The exhaustion under which she laboured was evident, notwithstanding the united efforts of the parents to relieve it; and their anxiety on her account continued to fluctuate in proportion as the symptoms of weakness and fatigue she exhibited increased or subsided, until their entrance into the attractive city of Bath, the place of their destination.
In possession of a handsome income, the General determined to provide for his wife and daughters an establishment proportioned to his means. An elegantly furnished house, in one of the most admired parts of the town, was soon chosen. ​What could the new possessors of it desire more than the renovation of health and strength to Oriana? Inhaling an atmosphere so mild and pure, it was not in vain that, for so youthful and hopeful a votary, the aid of Hygeia, tutelar genius of the place, was invoked—proved by the many fragile forms to be seen daily recovering their health.
The beneficial effects of change of air, and also diversion from novelty of scene, becoming apparent in the renewed constitution of Oriana, she was enabled in common with her sister to pursue her studies, and to give her attention to the finishing part of her education, for which the most competent masters were engaged.
In forming a select acquaintance, time passed very pleasingly to Mrs. De Brooke, until the arrival of the period appointed for the General's return to his post.
Previously, however, to his leaving Bath, a circumstance occurred, greatly calculated to impress his mind with just apprehensions and uneasiness as to what the future might involve. He received an anonymous letter, imparting tidings of a nature for which he was but little prepared. The language in which this letter was dictated was at once pathetic, strong, and decisive.
​ It described two persons, officers of superior and equal rank; in the one the General might have perceived himself depicted in colours flattering to his feelings, as relating to his conscious rectitude, his mercy, condescension, lenity—in a word, all his amiable virtues were extolled and even exaggerated. In the other were portrayed the opposite qualities, rigour, heartless pride, and ambition—his enemy! to be guarded against with the greatest circumspection. Concluding with an earnest exhortation to be on his guard ere it was too late, and endeavour to parry, if possible, the blow already levelled to overthrow him, the writer had subscribed himself—A Lover of Humanity!
Such were the contents of that singular epistle, perused and reperused, and, however the General might be disposed to question its veracity, with increased inquietude. On referring to the date, he found it had been designed to reach his hand at a much earlier period. That it had not done so doubly distressed him, and was an additional motive for hastening his departure; taking leave accordingly of his family, he set off to embark for Ireland.
In the meanwhile Mrs. De Brooke, participating in the uneasiness of her husband, confined herself ​to the circle of a few select friends, refusing to mix in those large and brilliant entertainments to which she was often invited.
The most intimate of her associates were a Mr. and Mrs. Blake and their son, a youth under twenty, the sole fruit of their union, the sole representative of a respectable family, and heir to extensive possessions: idolized by his parents, the most tender cares had been lavished upon him. Mrs. Blake neglected no opportunity of courting the attention of Mrs. De Brooke, showing her an assiduity and complaisance extremely flattering.
So great was the intimacy of these ladies that they were seldom seen but in company together. Mrs. Blake, in particular, made parties at her own house, for no other purpose than that of indulging the gratification of entertaining her new friends. The sisters of Mrs. Blake were equally desirous of making themselves agreeable to the Misses De Brooke; and with this view they would often accompany them in their walks, and solicit the permission of their mother to allow them to join their evening parties.
When confined to a family circle, Mrs. De Brooke offered no objection; but at the tender age of her daughters, she was averse from introducing them much into company, under the fear that such ​diversions might tend only to withdraw them from their studies, so precious, and to which every moment of their time was then dedicated.
Nevertheless, sometimes yielding to the entreaties of Mrs. Blake, she took Oriana, by way of indulging her musical taste, to a concert. On such occasions Mr. and Mrs. Blake seldom failed to be accompanied by their son. He was a young man of prepossessing aspect, and of mild deportment, but reserved, and unbending only to a few; his frequent intercourse with the De Brookes rendered them of the number of those to whom he felt no disinclination to address himself.
Having no desire to dispute the wishes of his parents, he ever suffered himself to be led by their advice, well persuaded that they were always directed in their designs towards the promotion of his future welfare and aggrandizement. Thus co-operating in their plans, his fond parents redoubled their civilities to Mrs. De Brooke, who was far from discerning the interested motives which swayed them, or the object aimed at by the whole family of which the young Blake was heir, viz, that of obtaining for him the hand of Oriana in marriage; overlooking, in the blindness of their ambitious views, the extreme youth of the parties; so desirable in many respects did this alliance ​with the De Brooke family appear to the Blakes, in the survey of their views for the attainment of their favourite end. In the first place Oriana was the grand-daughter of Sir Aubrey De Brooke, that highly distinguished and meritorious officer at the court of his sovereign; next to him in station and consideration stood his son, General De Brooke; and last, though not least in estimation, was Oriana herself, possessing the most attractive and showy qualifications.
Thus Mr. and Mrs. Blake pictured to themselves the pride and pleasure with which Mrs. De Brooke and the lovely plants of her culture would be received after so long an absence by the family of the General. Then came the joy and exultation they naturally conceived Sir Aubrey might feel when the period arrived for introducing his grand-children at court, blooming in every youthful attraction. In following up still further the train of their conjectures, they thought it not unlikely that those charming sisters, so highly deserving of notice, might, as their years advanced, be selected to fill some place about Her Majesty's royal person, perhaps as maids of honour.
With hopes so splendid, it was no wonder those parents were desirous of forming a marriage ​connexion for their son with one every way worthy of their most sanguine wishes. But of moderate origin themselves, and conscious of their inferiority, they passionately thirsted after aggrandizement, and to this they fancied themselves entitled on the ground of the very large fortune of which their son was the future inheritor.
Thus circumstanced was Mrs. De Brooke at Bath, while still unconscious of the secret wishes entertained by her friends, when the General having made some important arrangements in the state of his affairs at the Fort, proposed rejoining her.
It will be necessary, however, to retrograde, and give some information of the occurrences which had happened there during his absence.
Having arrived at his late quarters, he found to his mortification that the anonymous letter he had received bore but too faithful a representation of the truth, and that he was in a manner deprived of his command. Of all the afflictions he had formerly endured, none had fallen so heavy as this. Charges brought against him which he was unprepared to vindicate;—the subordinate persons under his command being accused of want of order in their accounts,—Government money ​squandered,—peculations practised,—a torrent of iniquity seemed to have burst forth to pour its inundations over his head.
"And what secret enemy," thought he, "'like the black raven hov'ring o'er my peace,' has thus so treacherously overwhelmed me by such calumnies—so unexpected, so derogatory from the high and just principles of honour, integrity, and uprightness, from that strict rectitude in which I have been accustomed to walk and to view my actions, and which, notwithstanding the unjust opprobrium cast upon me, I find to be an invincible support and shield."
In the first place he called around him his clerks, and busily and in earnest undertook the inspection of his papers, even to the most minute accounts, in which the Government was concerned. But, alas! in doing so, he but truly discovered that fraud and duplicity had been practised against him, secret connivances and collusion of which he could have had no idea. His books were mutilated, and none seemed disposed to afford him the explanations he desired; evasive answers were given to his questions by those who had seemed to have been bribed to his destruction.
That enormous abuses existed was evident, but of these he himself felt perfectly innocent. ​"The fault of too great confidence and credulity will readily and with justice be imputed against me, but that I have been guiltless of these connivances there can arise no difficulty in making appear. Grant, heaven! that such wickedness may flow back to the vile source whence it has sprung!" Such was the silent but emphatic soliloquy of the ill-fated De Brooke on leaving the Fort for W———, where, at that interval, was the hero who had suppressed the rebellion, General Haughton, basking in the lustre of his fame.
In all the fulness of injured feeling, De Brooke called upon him, hoping he might throw some insight upon so nefarious a transaction, little conceiving he was addressing himself to him who was agent in his overthrow and ruin. He had even so far mistaken the feelings which influenced General Haughton, as to expect from him real sympathy, and fairly calculated on the benefit of his advice towards redressing his grievances.
The perfidious General, assuming ignorance of what, in his officiousness and pretended zeal for the public service, he had himself stirred up, readily assumed the mask of friendship, and adopted with ease towards the unsuspecting De Brooke the language of commiseration, in that hackneyed flow which the hypocrite has ever at ​command—flippant on the lip, but foreign from the heart! He was a man of whom it might be justly said,
"A smile eternal on his lip he wears,
That equally the vile and virtuous shares."
Open and candid himself, De Brooke was far from suspecting deceit in others: and far was he from then diving into the real feelings of him who promised to befriend him, extenuate his conduct to Government, soften its aspersions, and bring if possible the really culpable forward to justice.
Thus ended an appeal, vainly and fruitlessly addressed to the heart of one by nature selfish, and swelled by the triumphs attending upon recent victory. General Haughton was not the being whom the private sorrows of an individual could affect with gratuitous feeling, least of all those of an officer upon whose ruin he hoped to build his own advancement, and rise another enviable step in his military career. "Truth," reasoned De Brooke, in returning from the conference he had held, "truth must find its advocate; the purity of my intentions, the disinterested zeal with which I have been ever actuated, must speak for itself."
With ample means before him, how many in his situation might have availed themselves of its ​advantages for selfish purposes, and in the speedy acquisition of wealth and independence, have found no inadequate indemnity for other losses,—even of fame, honour, and character trampled in the dust! Scrupulous as he had been, and abhorrent from such principles and practices, how poignant to be accused of having acted otherwise! Thus wrought upon, he determined to call for a public investigation of his conduct: "Let them at once," exclaimed he, "brand me with dishonour, or make my innocence appear clear as the noonday light!"
His request having been acceded to, it remained for him but to make the preliminary arrangements, for which due time was allowed him, and lay a statement of his case before the Court of Inquiry. Cheered by the conviction that he should arise triumphant, free from every imputation made against him, he sunk by degrees into that calm philosophy of feeling which none, under like circumstances, can attain, but they whose hearts are shielded by conscious integrity: availing himself of the delay, he stole away from care and business to pass the interval with his wife and children.
He arrived at Bath just at the time when reports were in high circulation relative to the match that was forming between the son and heir of Mr. and Mrs. Blake and his daughter Oriana. Of this ​rumoured engagement, the parents themselves, ever anxious to make it appear to the public as already an event fixed, were the industrious propagators, and this with the design to forward their pretensions. It was with an accent and emphasis characteristic of her ruling passion that Mrs. Blake, on being asked by a lady of her acquaintance whether it were really true that her son was about disposing of himself to the daughter of a Major,—"No, indeed," retorted she with a consequential air; "not to the daughter of a Major, but of a Major-General!" This passing within the hearing of Mrs. De Brooke, she failed not to repeat it to her husband. "Heaven grant it may be so," replied he; "under the many storms and tempests doomed to fall upon my devoted head, it will be a consolation to see my children exempt from my misfortunes." So happy an establishment for his elder daughter he conceived was a desirable presage of one equally fortunate, at some more distant period, for the younger.