# Duty and Inclination/Chapter 48

CHAPTER V.
"Plutus appear'd, and said, 'Tis true,
In marriage, gold is all their view;
They seek no beauty, wit, or sense;
And love is seldom the pretence.
All offer incense at my shrine,
And I alone the bargain sign.
Doris was rich enough, 'tis true;
Her lord must give her title too:
And ev'ry man, or rich or poor,
A fortune asks, and asks no more."
Gay.
Immediately on returning home, highly satisfied with the result of his visit to Mrs. Belmour, Melliphant found on his table a letter from Sir Howard, over which he cast his eyes with precipitation. The first lines breathed bitter invective against his deceased uncle, for having disappointed his hopes. He next expatiated upon the money spent at various times, under the firm conviction of having it handsomely returned to him on the death of his uncle. He cursed the journey he had been led to take after what had proved but an ignis fatuus, deluded as he had been by false expectations; ending his epistle by saying, "that his uncle having doubtless lent his ear to some old woman's tales and backbiting, he did not choose to place his property in the hands of a spendthrift, ​supposing he acted more wisely in cutting me off. Poor old dotard!—had he thought more judiciously, he would have left me his fortune, as the best means of effecting my reformation; for how could I have done better than have shared it with the lovely Rosilia? Yes! in truth, no longer would I have hesitated, had my uncle's fortune fallen to my lot: the lovely Rosilia should have been made instantly my bride! whose looks, so sweetly demure, might have at last chased the devil from mine!"
"Rosilia never will be his!" silently ejaculated Melliphant, as with a malicious smile he cast aside the letter, and prepared to make his accustomed daily visit to his patient.
When, in the course of time, Mrs. De Brooke became sufficiently recovered, no longer to complain of that lassitude, the usual effects of a long and serious illness, she would readily have acceded to the wishes of the General, and would again have encountered the journey through Wales to their tranquil Bower. But when, in the severity of the weather, she perceived a premature winter, and when she recollected how chill and cheerless had passed away those months, the bleak winds howling around their lonely dwelling,—and should the complaint she had recently recovered from menace a relapse; in giving due weight to such considerations, the General and herself mutually agreed, it being then the latter end of autumn, to postpone their journey until the ensuing spring; swayed also in their determination ​from tenderness to Rosilia, to whom the unvarying sameness of the country during winter could not but prove irksome.
How differently would they have acted could they have dived into those hearts where iniquity and deceit lay hidden as in a recess, keeping watch for the fruition of their long-meditated and cunningly-devised projects!
Presenting himself, after his arrival from Northumberland, before the De Brookes, Sir Howard was careful not to discover in his manners any appearance of that mortification he had felt on account of his late disappointment; even more facetious and gay than customary, he paid the most flattering attentions to Mrs. De Brooke, and gave to Rosilia the homage of his admiration! Previous to taking his leave, he said he had many visits to pay, and, amongst many other names, mentioned that of Mrs. Belmour, with whom, he added, his acquaintance was of long standing.
"She is," said he, "a next-door neighbour of my friend Melliphant, who it appears has sometimes spoken to her of General and Mrs. De Brooke, and from which, much desiring an introduction, she has begged of me to afford it to her. Fearing that you might not approve," addressing himself to Mrs. De Brooke, "I could not altogether acquiesce with her wishes until I had apprized you of them. She is a woman of fortune," laying emphasis on the word fortune, as if to enforce the recommendation it gave ​her, "and as such frequents the best circles. She is one who improves upon acquaintance, rendering herself as agreeable in small parties, termed family ones, as in large entertainments and crowded rooms."
Mrs. De Brooke replied, that she could have no objection to form the acquaintance of Mrs. Belmour, since it appeared she was so unceremonious and so conformable to the taste of her friends, in respect to her mode of visiting them.
Sir Howard having taken for that evening a box at the theatre, and having some tickets to dispose of, in presenting them to Mrs. De Brooke, begged of her to do him the honour of accepting them; which, as she did not refuse, he added, that if she consented, he would go immediately and engage Mrs. Belmour to be of the party. Thus, as this desired introduction had been planned between Mrs. Belmour and Melliphant, it took place through the medium of Sir Howard: strange as it may appear, the latter was made the instrument of effecting a plan concerted against himself.
Previous to meeting Rosilia in Kensington Gardens, and of becoming known to her parents in Portland Place, Sir Howard Sinclair, from his love of wealth alone, had been induced to pay serious attention to Mrs. Belmour; who, flattered at the idea of espousing one younger than herself, and of adding a title to her fortune, if she was not desirous of relinquishing her liberty, yet had by no means made up her mind to reject a suitor so worthy of her ​ambition. But when she heard from Melliphant that another engaged that homage which had been before paid to herself, she resolved to be revenged for his inconstancy, by acting in a manner which should decidedly favour the views of his rival; and if, upon finding his hopes with regard to Rosilia frustrated, she should be so fortunate as once again to bring him to renew his addresses to herself, how great would be her triumph in then giving him his final dismission.
Thus acting, in concurrence with the desire of Melliphant (who, the more to favour his designs, determined to act an apparently neutral part), Mrs. Belmour, with pointed accents, watching the effect of her words, spoke to Sir Howard of the De Brookes, telling him, that when an occasion offered, she much desired an introduction to them; hesitating and stammering, he would have excused himself in a thousand ways, being wholly unprepared for a demand which, if complied with, would place him, as he conceived, in so awkward a situation. Mrs. Belmour, however, strenuously renewing her request, fearing to give rise to suspicion, he made a virtue of necessity, and promised obedience to her wishes.
"What do you think has happened to me?" said Sir Howard, upon seeing Melliphant; "Mrs. Belmour is desirous of being introduced to the De Brookes, and of all persons in the world she has fixed upon me to bring it about. I have promised compliance, but shall evade doing so, if possible."
​ "You know but little of the female heart," said Melliphant drily, "if you think, by opposing Mrs. Belmour in her wish, that you thereby advance your interest either with her or with Rosilia! One or other of those objects, or even both you would obtain," added he, with a sarcastic smile. "The means of possessing a legitimate right to the fortune of Mrs. Belmour is, you will allow, by marriage only; and the means of possessing a return of love from Rosilia, again, may seem as if by marriage only; but as our laws do not admit the privilege of two wives, you must e'en make your choice; I see no alternative. If you make up your mind to the widow and her fortune (certainly ample enough to purchase pleasures of every sort), the fear of losing the acquisition of your title, through the medium of jealousy, infused from your attentions to Rosilia, may lead her to take a more open part, and no longer tamper with you as she has hitherto done. And, on the contrary, if as a last effort, you would wish to put to the trial how far you have succeeded in winning over to yourself the affections of the other, your court paid to her rival, in her presence, will instantly convince you. She who makes every feeling visible by the successive variations of her countenance, fluttered aspect, and involuntary blush, will afford you intimations which you cannot for an instant mistake. Thus, receive it as my friendly advice, no longer dangle after each; accept the one, and renounce the other. Bring them together! and let the circumstances as I have described fix your choice, and ​determine you at once to either party. If you thus continue waverings you will lose both; for, as says the old adage, 'He who sits between two stools falls to the ground.'"
Ever ready to submit his judgment to that of Melliphant, ensnared by his specious reasoning, and becoming the complete dupe of his artifices, Sir Howard no longer hesitated as to the step he should adopt, and went immediately, as we have seen, to call upon the De Brookes, in order to promote the introduction in question.
Always happy of an excuse for not attending public amusements, the General, pleading a prior engagement with Dr. Lovesworth, gladly submitted his wife and daughter to the care of his supposed friend, Sir Howard, when he called in the evening to conduct them to the play.
Upon entering the box of the theatre, taken in his name, and finding Mrs. Belmour and Melliphant already there, the introduction of the ladies took place.
Mrs. Belmour seemed turned of forty; to an air somewhat matronly, she added a kind and gracious deportment. If not of brilliant parts, her great knowledge of life, and habits of company supplied the deficiency; with these acquirements, possessing some share of tolerable plain sense, she certainly had the art of rendering herself agreeable.
The scenes exhibited that evening were more correct and moral than is usual to the modern drama. ​Interested alone at those parts which held up virtue to her view, allusions or double entendres passed upon the ear of Rosilia unheard, or without point. The remarks of Sir Howard, during the whole of the performance, were entirely directed towards Mrs. De Brooke and the widow; whilst the artful Melliphant engaged Rosilia—mild, humble, sensible, in all he said or looked, who could have supposed his heart harboured such deceit within!
The play being over, Sir Howard, who had not yet spoken to Rosilia, observed that her bouquet, which was but a short time before so fresh and humid, began to show symptoms of decline.
"And thus," added Melliphant, "love and beauty are imaged by that myrtle and rose, alike perishable!"
"The reason," observed Sir Howard, "they ought to be gathered; since no sooner are they ripe, than they fall to decay. Is it not better, then, they should perish there on a bed so soft, rather than scatter their perfumes to the wind."
Rosilia was so much accustomed to the language of flattery from Sir Howard, that his remarks of this nature were seldom attended to by her; were it otherwise, however, the subtle inuendos his words on some occasions conveyed, were lost on her like blunted arrows; they left no impression on her mind, nor sullied the purity of her thoughts.
The concluding observation of Sir Howard catching her ear, she divested herself of her faded ​nosegay, and was about consigning it to the ground, when Sir Howard, with his usual gallantry of gesture, begged of her the boon; dreading the request might be granted him, Melliphant, trembling with agitation, involuntarily stepped forward and demanded the same favour; in anxious expectation, contending for the prize, the hands of each were outstretched.
Melliphant was the victor! Emotion ran through his brain; he bowed lowly, expressive of the grateful sense he entertained for the gift conferred upon him; and in the secret gladness of his soul it was deposited in his bosom.
Mrs. Belmour offered to convey Mrs. De Brooke and her daughter home in her own carriage; and previous to taking her leave, requested the pleasure of seeing them at a small party she purposed giving shortly, in which they acquiesced; and she was soon after set down at her own house.
Melliphant stepped in almost immediately upon her entrance, and she invited him to sup with her. The conversation turned naturally upon the De Brookes: Melliphant was unusually elated. The circumstance of the flowers he had received from the hands of Rosilia, in preference to Sir Howard, had forcibly impressed his imagination; transmitted to his bosom, from that seat where they had previously rested, he felt flattered and transported beyond measure. The first favour received at her hands! what encouragement for his future perseverance!
The subject was warmly discussed with Mrs. ​Belmour. Exhilarated by her good fare and generous wine, he forgot the hour, and in the bliss he indulged, would have launched into the greatest and wildest rhapsodies, had not Mrs. Belmour been the first, without ceremony, to warn him that it was time to retire. She had given him credit as a man of eminent taste in his selection of Rosilia; and, as she anticipated in the event of his marriage, to find her a very desirable neighbour, she further resolved to take an active part in forwarding the measure. Of an intriguing spirit also, match-making was an occupation to give her pleasure.
But not to go into a detail of all the plans she adopted, suffice it to say that Mrs. Belmour was incessantly contriving meetings and opportunities for interviews between Melliphant and Rosilia; and, by many kindnesses shown on her part, continued to increase in the regard of Mrs. De Brooke; who, on account of her very circumscribed acquaintance, as also fondness for home, could not possibly hear of the many reports whispered to her discredit.
One or two evenings every week were regularly appropriated to meeting at each other's respective residences, Melliphant being always of the party, and not unfrequently Sir Howard,—who, since the evening of the play, and late observations resulting from Meliphant's advice, not finding that his assiduities to the widow had produced even the most distant manifestation of jealousy on the part of Rosilia, but that, on the contrary, her calm serenity of ​demeanour existed unchanged, could only reluctantly infer that she remained invulnerable to his assaults.
But daring and intrepid as we have described him, it was not likely he would tamely submit to defeat. Governed by pride and vanity, such principles were not to be mortified with impunity. Revenge for slighted love! the bitter workings of revenge succeeded! and he resolved that nothing should hinder him from his purpose of effecting, if not the loss of virtue and innocence in Rosilia, the destruction of her peace for ever! He could not be any longer deceived as to the ascendancy obtained by the more fortunate Melliphant, whose conduct he had deeply scrutinised since the night of the marked preference shown him, in receiving the flowers which he had been himself the first to solicit; and he was convinced that, under an appearance of feigned indifference on the part of Melliphant, the strongest passion was concealed.
Could it be true, was it possible, that he, whom he had hitherto imagined to be acting in concert with himself, was, on his own account, aspiring to the affections of Rosilia,—he, whose affairs were so deeply involved, whose establishment was sinking, whose professional labours brought him so inadequate a supply? on the verge of ruin, could he, at such a crisis, entertain thoughts of marriage—of proposing himself for the partner of Rosilia? And how, or in what manner, had he planned his operations for the purpose of effecting such views?
​ Melliphant, by his contrivances, kept up so much outward appearance, that none but Sir Howard was acquainted with the real state of his finances. Even his neighbour, Mrs. Belmour, seemed in ignorance as to the truth, or otherwise her heart might have relented, and not have allowed her to co-operate with him in the villainous plot he had laid to hurry an unsuspecting and innocent victim into the gulph of want, penury, and wretchedness! to involve in the merited fate of the detestable Melliphant, the lovely and guileless Rosilia!
Light-minded and superficial, little did Mrs. Belmour give herself a moment's concern as to the real character of one whom she devoted herself so freely to serve. Insensible to misfortunes on his own account, Melliphant had no pity to bestow upon the misfortunes of others; entirely ruled and guided by his passions, instead of subjecting them to restraint; debased and vicious in principle, his constant endeavour was to make it appear that the Truths of Christianity were calculated alone to infuse terror into the prejudiced and unenlightened.
Notwithstanding, however, the utter derision with which he viewed the holy precepts of the Gospel, he was ever careful to dissemble with Rosilia in his real opinions, and conceal from her his apostacy from her creed; well aware that the most decided firmness of principle was singularly opposed in her to softness and flexibility. Bent, therefore, as he was on the subduing of her heart, it was one of his fixed ​resolutions never to differ from her upon any of those points which, in the ardour and enthusiasm of her character, she was led to espouse.
By such means he flattered himself that in time he should subvert her fine understanding, and, by the contamination of her hitherto unsullied mind, reduce her to a level with himself,—and this he meditated to effect by slow and gradual operations, through the medium of her imagination, which he had discovered to be warm and excursive; and, when occasion offered, by artfully insinuating doubts, such as he conceived might puzzle even philosophy to refute.
Mistaken, however, was the systematic hypocrite! His fallacious reasonings might indeed, when supported by the powers of his energetic language and flowery gloss of style, assume an appearance of plausibility, and tend to impress the minds of his unworthy associates; but they would be found very inadequate to influence the mind of Rosilia, whose well-regulated life, whilst it constantly manifested her perfect love to the Deity, proved at once well fortified and impervious, a sufficient barrier to all the attacks of the sophist.
His utmost copiousness of ideas, his best arranged arguments, he would find but vainly exerted to overthrow that virtue which invested her with ingenuous modesty and grace. She looked down from the mountain of her holiness, upraised for her defence, uninjured by the attacks of infidelity; so pure and ​elevated a principle of devotion was neither to be sullied nor shaken!
Innocence, it is true, may be seduced, and ignorance deceived, but chastity, founded on the firm basis of pure virtue, presents to the eye of the artful and ensnaring an indubitable evidence of impregnable security!