Bath Tangle

“Emily, dearest Emily, she cannot compel you to marry anyone against your will! You have only to be firm!”

Anything less firm than the appearance Emily presented as she listened to these brave words would have been hard to find. Her face was as pale as it had a moment earlier been red, her eyes charged with apprehension, and her whole frame trembling. Nothing that he could urge seemed to convince her that it would be possible to withstand the combined assault of her mother and Lord Rotherham. The very thought of being forced to confront two such formidable persons made her feel faint and sick. Moreover, the alternative to marriage, little though Gerard might think it, was almost worse, since it would carry with it no such alleviations as coronets and consequence. Mama had said that ladies who cried off from engagements were left to wear the willow all their days, and she was quite right, for only think of Lady Serena, so beautiful and clever, and still single! She would have to live at home, with Miss Prawle and the children, and be in disgrace, and see her sisters all married, and going to parties, and—oh no, impossible! Gerard did not understand!

But Gerard assured her that none of these ills would come to pass—or, at any rate, only for a short time. For Gerard had evolved a cunning scheme, and he rather fancied that when he had explained it to her his adored Emily would perceive that nothing could better have served their ends than her engagement to Rotherham and its rupture. “For if you had not become engaged, dear love, your Mama would continue scheming to marry you to some man of rank and fortune, and I daresay she could never have been brought to listen to my suit. But when you have declared off with Rotherham, she will think it useless to persist, and she will very likely bring out Anne next season, and leave you in Gloucestershire.”

“Anne?” exclaimed Anne’s elder sister indignantly. “She will only be sixteen, and I could not endure it!”

“Yes, yes, only listen!” begged Gerard, alight with eagerness. “I come of age in November of 1817—very little more than a year from now! Then Rotherham will be obliged to put me in possession of my fortune—well, it is not precisely a fortune, but it brings me close on three hundred pounds a year, which is an independence, at least. I am not perfectly sure whether Rotherham would be obliged to pay it to me now, if I left Cambridge, because my father left it to me—well, to Cousin Rotherham in trust for me, until I am twenty-one—so that it should provide for my schooling and maintenance. Only Rotherham gives it to me for my allowance, and chose to pay for my education himself. I did not ask him to, and, in fact, I would liefer he did not, because to be under an obligation to him is of all things what I most dislike! I daresay he sent me to Eton just to get me into his power! However, never mind that! The thing is that I fear he can compel me to finish my time at Cambridge—and, you know, I do think perhaps I should, because I mean to embrace a political career, and to get my degree would be helpful, I expect. One of my particular friends is related to Lord Liverpool, and has interest with him, and he is very ready to oblige me. So you see that I have excellent prospects besides my poetry! Rotherham may not think that writing poetry is a gainful occupation, but only consider Lord Byron! Why, he must have made a fortune, Emily, and if he could do so, why should not I?”

Emily, a little dazed by all this eloquence, could think of no reason why he should not, and shook her head wonderingly.

“No! Well, we shall see!” said Gerard. “I do not count upon it, mind, for public taste is so bad—But we needn’t concern ourselves with that at this present! This is what we must do!—You must cry off from this wicked engagement: that’s certain!I will go up to Cambridge for my Third Year, and the instant I come down, which will be next June, I shall seek an introduction to Liverpool—there will be no difficulty about that!—and establish myself in the way to a successful career. Then, in November, when I come of age, and your Mama has despaired of finding what she thinks an eligible husband for you—only, if you should receive an offer, you must be resolute in declining it, you know!—I shall offer for you again, and she will be only too thankful! What do you think of that, dearest?”

She did not tell him. She was a very softhearted girl, besides being almost wholly deficient in moral courage, and she shrank from giving him her opinion of a scheme which in no way recommended itself to her. She perceived that he entertained no doubts that her sentiments towards him were the same as they had been in the spring; and to break it to him that although she still liked him very well she had no desire to marry him seemed to her to be an impossible task. She sought refuge in evasions, talked of filial duty, and said that Lady Serena had told her that she was a goose to be afraid of Lord Rotherham.

“Lady Serena!” he ejaculated. “Pray, why did she jilt him? I should very much like to ask her that home question!”

“Well, she is residing in Laura Place, with Lady Spenborough,” said Emily doubtfully, “but do you think you ought? She might think it an impertinence. Besides, she told me herself that she cried off because she and Lord Rotherham didn’t suit. They quarrelled so frequently that she became quite exhausted, but I can’t think she was afraid of him! She is afraid of nothing!”

“Lady Serena in Bath?” said Gerard, in a tone of considerably less elation. “Lord, I wish she were not!”

“Don’t you like her?” asked Emily, shocked.

“Oh, yes! Well—yes, I like her well enough! I wish she may not tell Rotherham I am here, though! You know, for all she jilted him they are still wondrous great, and there’s no telling what she might take it into her head to do, for I am sure she is very odd and unaccountable. On no account, Emily, must you divulge to her the attachment between us!”

“Oh, no!” she said, glad to be able to accede to one at least of his demands.

“If I should chance to meet her, I shall say that I came to Bath to visit a friend of mine. The only thing is, Cousin Rotherham forbade me to come here, so—”

“He forbade you?” she cried, cast into renewed dismay. “You have not seen him, surely?”

“Certainly I have seen him!” he replied, throwing out his chest a little. “When Lady Laleham refused to disclose your whereabouts—”

She interrupted with a tiny shriek. “You have been to Cherrifield Place? Oh, Gerard, how could you? Whatever shall I do? If Mama knew—”

“Well, it can’t be helped,” he said, rather sulkily. “How else was I to find you? And if I leave Bath immediately—as soon as we are agreed upon what we should both do, I mean—very likely she won’t think anything of my visit. If she does, I think you should tell her that you would not listen to my suit, and that will make all right.”

“Does Lord Rotherham know that you are here?” she asked anxiously.

“Well, I told him that I should come here, but ten to one he didn’t believe I should dare to disobey him. Indeed, I know he did not! He is so set up in conceit of himself—But I fancy I have shown him that he cannot browbeat me! I’m not afraid of him! Though I should wish not to be in Bath, if he should take it into his head to visit you,” said Gerard, with perfect sincerity. “I don’t mean, of course, that I shouldn’t prefer to face him now, man to man, but the thing is that it would very likely ruin all if I did,” he added, lapsing slightly.

Emily, both hands to her cheeks in a distracted gesture, paid very little heed to this. “Oh, heavens, what shall I do? Oh, how could you, Gerard?”

“But I have told you what you must do!” he pointed out. “You have only to be resolute in refusing to continue in the engagement, and, although it may be a trifle unpleasant at first, I daresay, there is nothing either your mama or Rotherham can do to compel you to yield, recollect! Of course, it would not do, if you were to disclose that you are betrothed to me. It is the shabbiest thing that I’m not of age! If I were, and Rotherham had no legal power over me, I need not tell you that I should remain at your side, and see to it you were not scolded or bullied! But it is only for a little time, dearest, and then we shall be married!”

But Emily, deriving no comfort from this prospect, merely begged him to take her back to her grandmother, and declared herself to be incapable of deciding, without reflection, upon any course of action. She was so much agitated that Gerard saw that it would be useless to press her for an immediate promise. He could perceive no flaw in his plan, but he knew that females were easily alarmed by anything unexpected, besides not being possessed of superior intellects capable of grappling in a flash with all the aspects of a problem. So he said soothingly that she must consider all he had said, and tell him the result of her lucubrations on the following day. Where should they