Mrs. Vernon to Lady deCourcy


             Churchill Manor, Sussex

             My dear Mother,

             It is with great reluctance that I communicate anything that might depress my father’s health and spirits, madam, but unless something is done to prevent it, you will be deprived of Reginald for more than a holiday season. Charles has invited my brother to prolong his visit, and while I am confident that my husband thinks of nothing but my pleasure, I grow uneasy in witnessing the very rapid increase of Lady Vernon’s influence over Reginald. I always regarded her coming with some uneasiness, but very far was it from originating in any anxiety for Reginald—I could not imagine that my brother would be in the smallest danger of being captivated by her after hearing Mr. Smith’s account of her proceedings at Langford.

             I did not wonder at his being struck with the gentleness and delicacy of her manners, and she is altogether so attractive that I should not wonder at his being delighted with her, had he known nothing of her previous conduct. But now her powers have so offset the accounts of Mr. Smith that Reginald is persuaded that they were all scandalous invention. Only yesterday he actually said that her loveliness and abilities were such that he could almost excuse Mr. Manwaring’s feeling the effect of them.

             I can hardly suppose that Lady Vernon’s desires extend to marriage. She must know that though no formal engagement exists between my brother and my cousin, both families look forward to their union. I am convinced that her object is that of any hardened coquette, namely, the assurance that she is universally loved and admired. But Reginald is young and of such a warm nature that he may not understand that she regards him only as an instrument of her vanity.

             I wish you could get Reginald home again under any pretense. I believe that a few hints of my father’s precarious state of health, and of Reginald’s duty to be at Parklands when the Hamiltons are there, must come from you.

             How sincerely do I grieve that she ever entered this house! I wish she would leave us, but Mr. Vernon will not send his brother’s widow away. Therefore, if you can get Reginald back to Parklands, it would be for the best.

             Your affectionate daughter,

             Catherine Vernon

chapter twenty-six

The next week passed in a series of quiet dinners and subdued family gatherings. The Chapmans were invited to dine along with another couple or two from the neighborhood, the children sang carols in the servants’ hall, the servants assembled to toast the health of their master and mistress, and the mince pies were distributed, but these were the highlights of the season’s festivities. Lady Vernon supposed that Charles and Catherine kept the occasion quiet out of respect for Sir Frederick’s memory, but Reginald gave her to understand that the Vernons’ holiday was quite in keeping with what had been usual at Parklands, and all of his experience with Bullet Pudding and Hunt-the-Slipper had come about when he spent a Christmas season with one or another of his friends. Much to her dismay, Catherine Vernon realized that, in the wake of Christmas Day, she was obliged to undertake a role for which she had been ill prepared and toward which she was disinclined. She must visit the tenants, and distribute gifts and assistance to the poor, and pay calls to her neighbors and receive them in return, and assure them all that she and Mr. Vernon wished them health and happiness in the coming year. She had never accompanied her mother on such rounds when at Parklands, and all that she had gathered from Lady deCourcy was that one ought not to dispense too much in the way of shillings and sympathy and hot soup as it would only encourage idleness and ill health. When Catherine asked Lady Vernon to accompany her, therefore, it was not only to keep her from Reginald as much as possible but also to catch some hint as to how she was to conduct herself as mistress of the Vernon estate.

Though Catherine did not know how much ought to be given, she had no doubt of getting a warm and grateful reception. She had, for so long, been the beneficiary of flattery and approbation that she had come to expect it as her due. It distressed her, therefore, to see her tenants’ smiles bestowed upon Lady Vernon, to hear them inquire after Miss Frederica Vernon before they extended the best wishes of the season to Mrs. Vernon’s household, and in the end, she was sorry that she had not left Lady Vernon at home.

On the third day of visiting, Lady Vernon returned to her apartments to find a letter from Sir James. His anger at her going to Churchill was all forgotten—he was all good cheer and gossip.


             Eliza Manwaring and Miss Manwaring have come to town, the former in pursuit of her errant husband and the latter in pursuit of any husband but one. Prepare yourself for something very shocking—Miss Manwaring does not love me! This I learned from Freddie, who is Miss Manwaring’s fast friend. I must reconcile myself to the fact that one who has been thrown at me for so many years has no desire at all to become my wife! To be rejected by the object of one’s affection is a terrible thing, but to be rebuffed by one whom a fellow never meant to marry is far more humiliating. And yet—poor Eliza Manwaring is not ready to admit that spinsterhood is a kinder fate than the degree of misery she enjoys as a married woman.


Lady Vernon had folded up the letter and took up her pen to write a reply when she was startled by a sharp knock upon the nursery door, which was opposite that of her own apartments. The passage was a narrow one, and the nursery door was left ajar, allowing her to overhear a heated exchange between Reginald and his sister. “You do wrong to make our parents uneasy by apprehending an event that no one can think possible,” declared Reginald.

“My letter was intended for our mother only,” protested Catherine. “A cold that affected her eyes prevented her from reading my letter, which she then placed into our father’s hands. Do you now take Lady Vernon’s part? Do you forget how strenuously she objected to my marriage?”

“So we have been told—and yet what motive could Lady Vernon possibly have had for preventing a marriage that was materially to Charles’s benefit? His family could only welcome a connection with ours.”

“It was said that she believed me to be unsuitable and that a union with Charles could not possibly be a happy one.”

“But your marriage has been a happy one, Catherine, so you must either forgive Lady Vernon if she was in error or admit that you may have been. If you, who have lived in such retirement, have been the subject of rumor, think how those who live in the world will fall victim simply because it is in their power to do wrong. No character, however upright, can escape the possibility of misunderstanding.”

“And is that how you account for what was said of her behavior at Langford? You were ready enough, before you came to us, to credit Mr. Smith’s word.”

“And I blame myself for so readily believing him. You know what Charles Smith is. Though his company is lively and entertaining, he is given to exaggeration and susceptible to gossip. Lady Vernon is exceptionally clever and charming, which will always be an affront to ladies who are less so. As for Mrs. Manwaring, it is said that she has a very jealous nature, and it is likely that Manwaring often gives his wife reason to be resentful of his conduct.”

Here some interruption and demand for attention from one of the children put the conversation at an end, and soon after Reginald’s steps were heard in the passage.

Lady Vernon spied him from her window as he strode across the park, and rapidly donning her spencer and bonnet, she hurried down the stairs.

She came upon him, pacing up and down between the hedgerows in great agitation, rereading the letter that had been the subject of his quarrel with his sister.

“I beg your pardon,” Lady Vernon apologized. “I will not intrude upon you. I will take another path.”

“You do not intrude. I have just received a very distressing communication from my father.”

“Are your parents well?” Lady Vernon inquired.

“Yes, although I fear that Catherine’s last letter to my mother has agitated them both.”

“What can she have written that might trouble them? Mrs. Vernon and the children are in good health, and she does not seem to be displeased with Sussex.”

“It is not her situation but our friendship that alarms her,” replied Reginald. “She communicated to our father a belief that I am taken in by your influence and by her husband’s determination always to represent your faults—which my father claims are widely known—in the most softened colors.”

“Charles has done a very poor job of defending me, then, if my errors are widely known. Will you tell me a part of what your father writes? I cannot contradict a charge if I am ignorant of it.”

  “Hear what he says, then.” Unfolding the letter, Reginald read:


             “You must be sensible that as an only son and the representative of an ancient family, more than your own happiness is at stake in your choice of a partner. Her family and character must be unexceptionable.

             “I cannot help fearing that you may be drawn in by one whose behavior toward you arises from her own vanity, because it is not impossible that she may now aim higher than simply to gain the admiration of a man whom she imagined to be prejudiced against her. Lady Vernon is poor and may naturally seek an alliance which may be advantageous to herself. I have been informed that this person has attached herself to you and that your own partiality for her is no secret. If the accounts of your friends have not persuaded you of this woman’s extravagance and dissipation, a father cannot hope to prevail, but I think that your affection for your sister should have been a very strong argument against anything like intimacy with a woman who did, from the most selfish motives, take all possible pains to prevent her marriage to Mr. Vernon.