The Adventures of David Simple (1904)/Chapter 31
BOOK IV
CHAPTER I
continuation of the history of isabelle
"My brother's great fondness for Dorimene made him, and, consequently, the whole family, unhappy at every the least indisposition of hers. She had hitherto been in the main very healthy; but now she fell into a distemper, with which, of all others, it is most terrible to see a friend afflicted. I know not by what name to call it; but it was such a dejection on her spirits that it made her grow perfectly childish. She could not speak without shedding tears, nor sit a moment without sighing, as if some terrible misfortune had befallen her. You may imagine the condition my poor brother was in at seeing her thus suddenly changed; for, from being of the most cheerful disposition that could be, she was become perfectly melancholy. He sent for the most celebrated physicians in France, and she, to comply with his request, took whatever they ordered; but all medicines proved vain, and rather increased than abated her distemper.
"We all three endeavoured to the utmost of our power to divert and amuse her; but sometimes she insisted so strongly on being left alone, that as we found the contradicting her made her worse, we were obliged to comply with her desire.
"My brother was so anxious about his wife, that when she would not suffer him to be with her, as he hated to burden his friends with his afflictions, he used in a manner to escape from us, that he might be at liberty to indulge his own uneasy thoughts without having any witnesses of them. By this means the Chevalier Dumont had often an opportunity of entertaining me apart.
"He at first treated me with an easy agreeable air of gallantry and address; which, as it seemed to tend to no consequence that could give me a serious thought, gave me great pleasure. But this did not last long; for his behaviour was soon turned into that awful respect which seemed to arise from both esteem and fear. Whenever we were together alone, his thoughts appeared so fixed, that as he was fearful of saying too much, he remained in silence; and when he approached me, it was with such a confusion in his looks as plainly indicated the great disorder of his mind. I have observed him, when he has been coming towards me, suddenly turn back, and hasten away, as if he was resolved to shun me in spite of any inclination he might have to converse with me: in short, in his eyes, in his whole conduct, I plainly read his love and his great generosity in being thus fearful of disclosing it. For he thought, in his circumstances to indulge a passion for me, and endeavour to make me sensible of it, would be but an ill return to his friend for all his goodness. But this gratitude and honour, with which his whole soul was filled, effected that for him which they forbid him to attempt; for I caught the infection, and added inclination to the great esteem his character alone had inspired me with before I knew him; but the great care we took on both sides to conceal our love, made it only the more visible to every judicious eye. Now Dorimene said she found herself something better, and instead of wishing to be alone, she seemed always inclined to have us with her. The Marquis de Stainville's joy was inexpressible at her least appearance of cheerfulness, and, for the present, he could think of nothing else.
"Whilst we were in this situation, young Vieuville, Dorimene's brother, having heard of her ill state of health, came to pay her a visit: he was as handsome for a man as his sister was for a woman; had a remarkable good understanding and a lively wit; all which rendered him perfectly agreeable, and I think it would have been very difficult for any woman disengaged in her affections to have resisted his love, Dorimene was so pleased with her brother's company, that her distemper abated every day; and her fond husband seeing how much he contributed to her amusement, prevailed with him to stay there some time. Vieuville, although he loved his sister very well, and would willingly have done anything in his power to have served her, yet, in this case, had another strong reason to induce him to yield to the Marquis's request; for, from the first day of his arrival, the effect I had on him was very apparent: he was seized with as sudden and violent a passion for me as the Marquis had been for his sister. This was an unexpected blow; poor Dumont saw it; and yet such was the force of his unconquerable virtue, that even the thoughts of such a rival could not provoke him to be guilty of so great a breach of friendship as the endeavouring to gain my affection, and prevent my being better married. I was so miserable to think what he would feel if I took any notice of Vieuville, that I could hardly prevail with myself to be commonly civil to him, but shunned him with the greatest assiduity in my power.
"Although my brother did not at first seem at all displeased at seeing me resolutely bent not to hearken to Vieuville, and often dropped words how little fortune should be valued in any tender engagements, insomuch that I sometimes fancied he saw and approved Dumont's love, yet I was not left at liberty to act as I pleased m this case; for Dorimene said her brother's complaints at my avoiding him pierced her heart so deeply, that unless I could contrive some method of making him easy, it would occasion her relapsing into all her former illness; for that while she saw Vieuville so miserable, it was impossible for her ever to recover. She took all opportunities of leaving us together; but, notwithstanding his agreeableness, it was persecution to me to hear him talk of love; nor could I think of anything but what the Chevalier must necessarily suffer whenever he knew we were together. I often condemned myself for not having before confessed my love for Dumont to my brother, and asked his consent to have been for ever joined to his friend. I had no reason to suspect he would not have granted it; for I had experience enough of him to know he was not of a temper to have made us both unhappy for any gratification of his own vanity; but I could never bring myself to it, unless Dumont had made some open declaration of his love. I knew it was now in vain; for the Marquis de Stainville was so excessively fond of his wife, that to have given me to another in open defiance of her brother, while she persisted in saying it would make her miserable, was utterly impossible for him ever to consent to.
"Dumont's great modesty and bad opinion of himself blinded him so far, that he did not even see how much I preferred him in my choice to Vieuville. He sometimes indeed fancied I saw his love, and pitied him; but as it is usual for most men to have a good opinion of the woman they like, he only imputed it to the general compassion of my temper. In short, he could not bear to be a witness of my consenting to be another's; and yet, when he looked at my lover, or heard his conversation, he did not doubt but that must be the case; he therefore resolved to quit the place where he soon expected to see his misery completed.
"He made an excuse to the Marquis that he had a desire to visit his mother; and, with his consent (for he never pretended a right to contradict his friends because they were obliged to him), set out in three days. I shall never forget the look he gave me when we parted; good-nature, tenderness, and yet a fear of displeasing were all so mixed, that had I not seen it, I should have thought it impossible for any person, in one moment, to have expressed such various thoughts.
"When he was gone I could not command myself enough to sit in company, but got away by myself into a solitary walk, where I might be at liberty to give a vent to my sorrows and reflect in what manner I should act to extricate myself out of these difficulties. I resolved, let what would be the consequence, absolutely to refuse Vieuville; but then I feared, if he should persist in his love, what my brother would suffer in his wife's continual importunities. At last it came into my head to try if he was generous enough to conquer his own passion, rather than be the cause of my being unhappy.
"I accordingly took the first opportunity that offered of speaking to Vieuville alone, and told him, as he had often professed a great love for me, it was now in his power to prove whether those professions were real, or only the flights of youth, and the effect of a warm imagination; for that my happiness or misery depended on his conduct. He began to swear that he would fly to obey my commands, and should think it the greatest pleasure he was capable of enjoying to be honoured with them. I desired him to hear me out; and told him, that, for reasons I could not then inform him, it was impossible for me ever to marry him without making myself the most wretched of all mortals; and although it was indeed in my own power to refuse him, yet, in consideration of his being Dorimene's brother, and that the seeing him uneasy made her so, I entreated it as the greatest favour of him immediately to leave me, and return to his father's, which would be the only means of preventing the whole family from being miserable.
"He looked some time steadfastly on me, and then asked if I thought his love had no stronger a foundation than to give me up so easily. As soon as he had spoken these few words he left me, without waiting for a reply, with an indignation in his countenance which plainly showed I had not succeeded in my scheme; and indeed the event proved how much I was mistaken when I had flattered myself with the vain hope of meeting with any greatness of mind from him.
"As he saw the only thing which in the least staggered my resolution was the fear of making his sister uneasy, he went directly to her, and instead of acting as I had desired him, he increased his complaints, and swore he could never have the least enjoyment in life unless she could prevail on me to be less cruel to him. In short, I was his present passion, and he was very careless what the consequence of it was to me, provided he could gratify himself. Had I before had any inclination for him, this would entirely have conquered it; for the contrast was so great between his behaviour and that of the generous Dumont, who visibly sacrificed his own peace to his love for me and his friendship for my brother, that my love for the latter increased equally with my detestation of the former.
"As I was sitting in my chamber the next morning, musing and reflecting on my own hard fate—that when I seemed so near my happiness, such an accident as this should intervene to throw down all my hopes, and make me more wretched than ever—my brother suddenly entered the room, and seeming eager to speak to me, began by saying, "Oh ! Isabelle, Vieuville—" I had not patienc to let him go on, but interrupted him, crying out that I would sacrifice my life at any time for his service; but if he was come to intercede with me to spend my whole time with a man whom I must always despise, I could not consent to it. He replied, that this accident had thrown him into a dilemma, in which he knew not how to act: that he was going to say, when I interrupted him, that Vieuville had destroyed all the fancied scenes of pleasure he once imagined he should enjoy in the love and unity of his little family, for he saw the aversion I had to this lover; and yet his Dorimene (whose every tear pierced his soul) seemed so resolute to abandon herself to despair if her brother was made unhappy, that either way it was impossible for him to avoid being miserable.
"I fancied, by the emphasis he laid on some of his words, that he knew the whole truth, and was therefore resolved to take this opportunity of disclosing my mind to him; and yet a kind of shame withheld my tongue, and it was with difficulty, and in broken accents, I at last pronounced the word Dumont. He stopped me short, and told me there was no occasion for saying any more, for that from the very first he with pleasure saw our growing love; that he had always wished to see me married to the only man he really esteemed; that, indeed, just before the arrival of Vieuville, his wife's illness had employed most of his thoughts; besides, he artfully intended to let his friend's passion come to the height, that he might increase his happiness by gratifying him when he least expected it. 'You know, Isabelle,' continued he, 'your fortune of itself is enough to make the man you love happy; but I always intended a considerable addition to it; and as Dumont is your choice, should be desirous that we might all continue one family. This misfortune of Vieuville's being your lover has disconcerted all my schemes.' I was quite overwhelmed with my brother's goodness, and almost ready to sacrifice myself to his wife's humour, rather than he should bear a moment's pain. However, we separated for that time, and said we would consider and talk further of it another day.
"But accident soon delivered us out of all our perplexities; for such sort of love as Vieuville's is seldom so fixed but every new object is capable of changing it; and I verily believe he had lately persisted more because his pride was piqued at being refused than from any continuance of his inclination towards me. I shall not dwell long on this circumstance; but only tell you, there came a young lady one day to dine with Dorimene, who was really one of the greatest beauties I ever saw. Vieuville was in a moment struck with her charms, and she presently made a conquest of his heart. She lived very near us, and soon became as enamoured of her new lover as he could possibly be of her. She had a great fortune, which was at her own disposal, and they only deferred the celebration of their nuptials till he had an answer to a letter he wrote his father. He soon carried his wife home; and I am certain he could not have more joy in the possession of one of the finest women ever seen than I had in being rid of his troublesome importunities.
"Now all my hopes began to revive again, and there seemed to be no bar to my happiness. I pleased myself with the thoughts of the raptures Dumont would be inspired with when he found his dear Stainville approved his love. It was not long before my brother showed me a letter from the Chevalier which I found was written in answer to one from him just after Vieuville's marriage and departure, which he had acquainted him with only as a piece of news. He expressed himself with great thankfulness for his pressing invitation to return, and concluded with sajdng he should be with him the beginning of the next week.
"When I gave! my brother back his letter, words would have been unnecessary, for my looks sufficiently showed how much I thought myself obliged to him for thus taking care of my happiness. We never kept anything a secret from Dorimene, and the Marquis talked before her of his intention concerning me and Dumont just as if we had been alone. But I observed she changed colour, and looked at me with an air quite different from what she used to have (for we had always lived together in great friendship). She at last said she supposed this was the reason her brother had been treated with such contempt. I thought this might arise from her pride, because I had refused Vieuville, and said all I could to mollify rather than exasperate her.
"I was now perfectly easy in my mind. I had no manner of doubt but that my brother's goodness would accomplish all my wishes without my appearmg in the affair. At the appointed day Dumont arrived: the mourning was out for his father; he was dressed very gay, and his person appeared with all the advantages in which nature had adorned him; for although he could not be said to be a regular beauty, yet the mixture of softness and manliness which were displayed in his countenance, joined to his great genteelness, justly made him the object of admiration.
"When he dismounted, my brother received him at the gate, and Dorimene and I waited for him in the parlour. He made his compliments to her with great respect; but, when he came to speak to me, we were both in such confusion we could not utter our words. But our common friend, the Marquis, on seeing the same passion, and the same resolution to conceal it, continue in the Chevalier, would not leave us long in this anxious situation; but, two days after Dumont's arrival, took him into a room by himself, and told him, he was no stranger to his love for his sister. On which the other, without giving him leave to proceed, replied, he could not imagine by what accident he had discovered it; for he would defy any one to say he had ever dropped the least complaint, notwithstanding all the misery he had suffered; nor could even the daily, nay hourly, sight of a person lie then thought his successful rival, extort from him a confession which his gratitude to such a friend forbade him ever to make. My brother begged him to hear him out; and then said—'My dear Dumont, I am so far from accusing you, that had not your honour been fixed in my opinion as steadfastly as possible before, your behaviour on this occasion would have been the most convincing proof imaginable that although our friendship commenced in our youth, yet nothing can ever shake or remove it. And, by my own experience, I am so certain there cannot be any enjoyment equal to that of living with a person one loves, that I bless my good fortune which has put it in my power to bestow that happiness on my sister and on my friend. In short, Isabelle shall be yours, and I shall have the inexpressible pleasure of calling you brother.'
"Dumont stood for some time like a statue; no words could express his thoughts, nor would the emotions of his mind give him leave to speak. The first sign he showed of any remaining life was when love, gratitude, and joy worked too strongly in his soul to be contained, and forced their way in gushing tears. He at last ran and embraced the marquis; crying out, 'You must imagine my thanks, for I cannot utter them!'
"Alter a little more conversation between the two friends, my brother called me down; and as soon as I entered the room, taking me by the hand, he led me to the Chevalier, saying, 'Here, my friend, in Isabelle I make you a present which you only are worthy of; and to your merit I am obliged for the at pleasure I enjoy in thinking I have bestowed her where it is impossible I should ever have any reason to repent my choice.'
"It was no force upon me to give my hand to Dumont; and I did it in such a manner that he easily perceived my brother had not disposed of me against my inclinations. I shall not pretend to describe the Chevalier's transports, nor repeat all he said on this occasion; it is sufficient to say, that his whole behaviour, and every word he spoke, was yet a stronger proof of both his gratitude and love.
"We now both looked on ourselves as in the possession of our utmost wishes; all obstacles to our happiness seemed to be removed; and the prospect of passing the rest of my life with such a companion and such a friend as the Chevalier Dumont indulged me in all the pleasing ideas imaginable. Dorimene heard from her husband what he had done, seemed to have forgot my usage of her brother, and congratulated us with more than usual softness on the occasion.
"The marquis was impatient to complete his friend's happiness, and appointed a day for our marriage. But in the meantime Dorimene was taken so violently ill of a fever, that her life was despaired of. My brother's distraction on this account banished from our minds all other thoughts but how to comfort him; Dumont had too much delicacy, and too sincere a regard for his friend, to think it a proper time to talk of love while he was in such affliction.
"This grief, however, was soon dissipated, and joy succeeded by the recovery of Dorimene. The day was again appointed for the celebration of our nuptials; when, on a sudden, the whole face of affairs was changed ; all Dumont's joy and cheerfulness was vanished; a fixed melancholy seemed to overspread his countenance; and now, instead of embracing every opportunity to converse with me, he shunned me with great assiduity; and if I unavoidably fell in his way, he fixed his eyes on mine with such horror, as perfectly frightened me. He himself, on some trifling excuse, put off our wedding. Dorimene was often in tears, find seemed relapsing into her former distemper. This, indeed, we imputed to the weakness her fever had left upon her; but my brother too soon caught the infection, and his mind seemed to labour with some grief, which he could neither perfectly stifle, and yet was unwilling to reveal. I observed he went abroad more than usual, and I was often left in the house with only servants.
"One evening, when I came into my chamber, I found a letter on my table in an unknown hand; but how was I surprised to read these words! 'Whatever you do, Isabelle, avoid Dumont; for the marrying him will certainly prove fatal to you both.' Guess, ladies, what I must feel to have all my happiness thus suddenly destroyed; and, in its place, to see this dreadful scene of confusion. Conjectures would have been endless; I could not bring myself to suspect the Chevalier's honour; besides, what I saw him daily suffer convinced me there was something very extraordinary at the bottom, which it was impossible for me to fathom. But now, in order to make you understand the remaining part of my story, I must go back, and let you into the cause of this terrible alteration in our family, which I afterwards learned from the mouth of the person who was the occasion of it. But this I shall defer till to-morrow; for although my resolution has hitherto kept up my spirits, so as not to interrupt the narration, and trouble you with what I feel, yet am I often so racked with the remembrance of past scenes, that I really grow faint, and am able to proceed no further at present." Isabelle retired for that evening, with a promise of coming to them again the next morning.
She left the whole company very anxious to know the event of all the disorder she had described in her family; but as soon as she had breakfasted the next day, she gratified their curiosity by proceeding as follows.