The Coquette; a novel

Preface

. A Preface cannot convert a bad Novel into a °-ood one — a good Novel hardly requires a Preface, its plot should be clear, and its moral obvious. The Author of the Coquette merely pens these few lines, to claim the indulgence of the Public for any slight inaccuracies which may occur in the work, occasioned by his absence during publication, his health obliging him to remain abroad. Paris, January, I85S.

Chapter I. The Guardian And The Ward

" Sir," said the Doctor, C( I'll have nothing to do with you — I'll give you no advice except profes sionally — my professional advice to you, sir, is to go home and shave your head — I wish you a good morning" — and the speaker closed the door almost in the face of a tall, pale, handsome young man, retired into his study, shut himself in, threw open the window, loosened his cravat, and going to a drawer, took out an imposing looking meerschaum, and prepared to smoke. E'er, however, the first curl had ascended, the Doctor murmured, or ra ther growled, " clever fellow, first rate man, he'll L; do." While this gentleman is enjoying a luxury generally disapproved by the Faculty, we shall take this opportunity of telling the reader some thing of his history, and that of the other person mentioned here.

The Doctor had lived long in India, where he had amassed considerable wealth. His dislike to society, and the abruptness of his manner, had rendered him comparatively unknown. Dr. Bruce was a man who would not talk if he had nothing to say ; who could not be prevailed on to smile unless he was amused, or to express his approba tion otherwise than by a kind of grunt. He never paid a compliment in his life, and would not thank any one who addressed one to him. One individual there was, however, who be neath the Doctor's brusquerie discovered a really kind heart, and who sought and at length obtained his friendship. This was a Captain Leslie, an officer in the Hon. East India Company's ser vice. It was strange the friendship which exis ted between these two men, or rather it was strange that such a friendship had found a com mencement — the one, young, impetuous, frank, and joyous — the other, middle-aged, cautious, re served, and silent.

Leslie, however, left the gay companions of whom he was the enfant cheri, to smoke with the Doctor ; to rattle on for hours about matters which Bruce despised and openly sneered at ; to ask his advice, and receive as an swer a growl about dissipation and ruin ; to tell him of the charms of the accomplished Miss Black-letter, and hear that> lady instantly reviled as a blue-stocking ; of those of Miss Gentle, who was then and there pronounced a coquette ; that he must, would, and should, propose for Amelia Clavering, the beautiful, the entrancing, but alas the penniless — and to receive as sympathizing counsel that he had much better hang himself. "Quite improbable," exclaims the reader, " that he would keep up such an acquaintance." Not so improbable at all ; who, when the captain having made a safe-book on the Regimental steeple-chase, found that he had made a slight mistake, and was liable for an amount which he could not pay— who was it forced a check into his hand, and lit his pipe with the acknowledgment ? and who, when the captain had discovered that all his earthly happiness depended on facing poverty in a cottage with the lady as stated above, the chief drawback of which cottagse was afterwards discovered to be that it was not roomy enough to sulk com fortably in — who was it, I ask, that growled the couple into something like good humour ?

Why, Dr. Bruce. And Dr. Bruce it was, who, when Leslie died of a fever, and his wife took unto herself the superannuated major of the regiment, pounced on the offspring of the former ill-assorted marriage, and declared himself the child's guardian, — yes, guardian was the word he used, though all the world know that the young fellow's father had left nothing behind him except the regret of his brother officers ; and a heritage — of debts. Years passed on, and the Doctor returned to England, bringing with him his protege ; very like his father he was, the young spark. He first wanted to go into the army, which his guardian would not hear of; indeed such was the guardian's aversion to that profession and its followers, that when one day young Leslie introduced Lieutenant Gallopade of the th, in whose society he delighted, in whose moustaches he saw military glory depicted to an extent which awed his young mind — when, I say, with feelings of fear and pride, he introduced the aforesaid hero to the old gentleman, so cool, and if 1 may coin a word, growly was the Doctor's reception, and so perfect a fail ure were the moustaches, that the lieutenant after smoothing and caressing those appendages through a period of from five to seven minutes, beat a hasty retreat and was seen there no more.

Our young friend finding that the army was out of the question, came to the conclusion that his life was a blighted one, that he was meant to be miserable, and that nothing did or would succeed with him. He wrote verses. He set out on a pedestrian tour in search of adventures, which did not turn up — unless having his pocket picked at a village inn, where he had lingered admiring the simple beauty of rustic manners, may be termed an adventure. In fact, he tried to make himself miserable, and nearly succeeded. However, time rolled on, and he became wiser and steadier, and at the time during which our history begins, he was a handsome, talented young fellow, and was a student of college about to take his degree. So far all was well j but he had inherited from his father a heart very susceptible of the charms of beauty, and so it came to pass that Henry Les lie fell in love.

Now he no sooner discovered that such was the case, than he rushed off to the village where his guardian lived, and there made a confession. To the question how he proposed supporting a wife ? (for his flame was not an heiress) he had made answer with such ingenuity, and had brought forward 60 many ways of making a respectable income ; that the old gentleman was quite astonished, and tho' he pooh-poohed the idea, and finally dismissed Henry in a state of semidesperation, nevertheless that hero had pleaded his cause so well, and had shown such tact in first introducing and afterwards sustaining his view of the affair, that the Doctor was obliged to shield his delight by a fit of even unusual gruffness, and had for that reason made use of the sentences recorded in the beginning of this veracious history.

Chapter II. The New Curate And The Ould Residenter

Mrs. McAdam put on her bonnet. Smile not gentle reader — the circumstance was of impor tance, for when Mrs. McAdam put on her bonnet, and arranged it with that air of resolution which she adopted on this occasion, and above all, when she armed herself with her reticule, which re sembled a small carpet bag — when, I say, these circumstances took place, then Mrs. McAdam meant to do some deed of more than ordinary importance. E'er however the lady in question sallied forth she pulled the bell, and a neat pretty girl of eighteen made her appearance. " Sally," said Mrs. McAdam, '* I am going out — if old Mrs. Green calls, tell her to come this evening at seven o'clock, and give her that bottle of wine for her sick daughter," pointing to a sideboard on which stood several packages, medicines, flannel, &c. — *' that linen is for Mary, the carpenter's niece, and that work is to be finished by her sister — you will find her money by it, and tell her that the extra sixpence is because she did it very neatly, and I'm pleased with her — now do you under stand all that, child ? well, and if young Chester comes here tell him that I have enquired into his story, and that he is an impostor — he can't deceive me — you understand.

Well, I think that's all ; no, stay — it's just possible that Mr. Absolute the new curate may call — though I believe he is engaged in his parochial visits — you will say I am out." " Of course, ma'am." " 1 have told you not to interrupt — you young people are so impetuous. It's not of course at all, you will probably open about six inches of the door, and say, ' not at home; ' and then slam it in the visitor's face — I saw you do that the other day as I was coming in. You are to open the door wide — do you see, child, very wide, and say, when you are asked, not before, * Mrs. McAdam is not at home, Sir,' not as if I was at home and didn't choose to be seen, because you know, Mary, I am always prepared to see any one at any time, or if I don't choose to see them I say so, no false messages for me" — so saying she sallied forth.

Through the village of Ballytower she wended her way, passing through the handsomer and wealthier part with a quick step and an erect carriage, for she was rather an authority in the. little society, and moreover was an old inhabi tant, and came of a good family. The wealthy said she was a little proud, and perhaps she was ; but the poor man was the real authority on the subject of Mrs. MeAdam's character : " she was a lady, bless her, and no mis take, and a friend to the poor man ; if he wanted a bit of work or help in the black time. or a bit of advice about any little sorrow, Mrs. Mac," as she was familiarly called, " was the one to speak to — she didn't preach, she advised, that's what she did, and mind ye, them as didn't heed her, supped sorrow." Down the street walked Mrs. McAdam, paus ing now and then for a few moments as she reached a cottage which the presence of any one *' sick or sorry," rendered for her an object of care and interest.

The immense bag opened, two or three kind words were spoken, and the old lady passed on her way with her quick step, bearing with her the blessings of the poor. The last cottage which she visited contained an object of curiosity to the inhabitants, who, with some of the neighbours were assembled round the chair in which sat a gentleman whom we have casually mentioned before, Mr. Absolute, the new curate. Now Mrs. McAdam though a model woman, had a fair share of curiosity, and this, backed by some rumours which she had heard concerning the reverend gentleman, had determined her to sally forth to the cottage of a certain Denis O'Flagherty, where 6he had heard that the new curate was to visit; because she was anxious to see the gentleman in question, and to assure herself that he was likely to prove a good shepherd to her cherished poor.

The Reverend Charles Augustus Absolute was seated in the centre of the group. He was a tall, thin, aristocratic looking young man, ap parently twenty-four or twenty-five years of age, with a bilious complexion, thin lips, and exceed ingly light colored hair and eyebrows — a little yellow colored down on each side of his face seemed to promise whiskers at some future period. In his dress he was a clerical dandy ; his boots, gloves, and umbrella were irreproachable ; his waistcoat was intensely clerical, being a kind of band of some superfine material, commencing at his throat, and extending to his waist, merely permitting his white cambric tie, a triumph of per severance, to be seen. There was a tiny hole in the centre of the vest through which his watch chain, making its first appearance, dropped gracefully into some undiscoverable pocket.

" Now," said the Reverend Charles Augustus, leaning over in a posture of exceeding mildness and making a kind of little steeple by union of his fore fingers, "as I was remarking a few moments since, my beloved — that is, I mean Mrs. O ! Mrs. " he paused for a moment, and then leaning over towards the person he was addressing, said in the most honied of tones, " I have remarked during my brief sojourn here that several, in deed almost all patronymics of the — hem — the individuals comprising my flock, are, being of Celtic origin, difficult to pronounce. Time will, I am sure, render me familiar with these names, which however euphonious, are decidedly difficult to retain in the memory. Now I would propose, if you have no objection, to substitute in con versation, some highly respectable English ap pellation — one suited to your — hem — station in society — if Jones or Smith, would not be objec tionable" — he stopped short, for the counte nances of the people addressed proved their complete ignorance of his meaning " Bedad your Riverence I don't rightly take you, but av coorse any thing that's plazing to your Riverence — tho' in regard av Mr. Jones, as keeps the meal shop beyant there, it's little he'd have to do with buz, more be token he is not an Irishman at all, but brought himself over from from — och, from them mountainous parts, of England*" "Denis," said Mrs. McAdam, "Mr. Abso lute says that he can't remember your name, and so he is going to call you Jones or Smith, whichever you like best — do you understand that ?"

"Shure," said Mrs. O'Flagherty, "there isn't the laste occasion in life for his riverence to do the likes of that, its myself that'll tell him my name whenever he comes, not that the likes of huz wants to be mistheredor misthressed, only — g'wan out of that, hurroosh, hit him Paddy, yer sowl, och, wurrah, yer Riverence, but he's the misbehaving baste all out — give me a hoult of that broom, och, wurrah !" — these last sentences were caused by the sudden invasion of the group by a pig, which having entered slily and noiselessly, had coasted round by the wall to the extreme end of the cottage, when being attacked by one of the "gossoons," the beast had rushed with a long scream to the door, scattering the group in the centre which happened to be in the way, and seizing en passant, the curate's cambric handkerchief, which was lying on the ground, close to that gentleman's chair.

" A pig," said Mr. Absolute, gracefully re covering from his momentary confusion, and waving off politely a scion of the house of O'Flag herty, who was approaching with the stolen hand kerchief, which had been in a moment metamor phosed into a dirty rag — "a pig is an animal of unprepossessing appearance and inconvenient habits, and for those reasons should not be per mitted to intrude into the — a — the family circle — as civilization advances in this country, no doubt the inhabitants will — a-hem — become more aware of the impropriety of allowing domestic animals to share with them their cottages — or, as 1 believe they are called here, cabins. Let us forget this little incident, and endeavour to improve my, that is, our time, which is of very great value, my friends — very great value indeed I" '- Now, in order that I may impart to you such information as may be best suited to your pros pects, and to your — a — circumstances, it is abso lutely necessary, that I inform myself to what ex tent the soil which I, as a husbandman — I speak figuratively, am about to cultivate, has been ferti lized and improved by former labourers, by your parish-priest, or by accidental cprcumstances.

I trust I make myself perfectly plain ?" Denis, who saw that Mr. Absolute looked at him, scratched his head, and ventured, "thrue for ye, yer Riverence." The rest of the group, not having the slightest conception of the meaning of what was said, stared vacantly, and Mrs. McAdam looked on with a half smile. " Your eldest son's name is I think you said ?" " Phil, your 'Riverence." " Just so — Philip come here." Philip who was a tall red-headed lad of se venteen, first glanced at the door to see whether a bolt would be likely to succeed, and finding that such would not be the case, and that his fa ther's eye was fixed on him, shambled up to the clergyman, and pulled his hair in token of respect. " Well, Philip," said Mr. Absolute benignly, " who gave you your name ?" " 1 dunna." " Oh come now, think — I see youTe not thinking, come now."

" The boys." " No, no, think now — My godfathers and my godmother in my — well !" " Axin yer Riverence's pardon," interrupted OFlagherty pater, " it was the mother gave him the name, and Katty Brennan her that stood for him, and ." " Now my good man," exclaimed Mr. Absolute, with rising impatience, " don't interrupt me — well Philip, did you ever learn your catechism ?" -- Why thin, I didn't, yer Riverence." " Dear me, this is a very sad state of things, perhaps on secular subjects you may be better in formed. What shape is the world ?" Phil considered and answered. " different shapes." " Why do you think so ?" " Shure I see it is." "You see it is?" " Yis, the house here is in a holly, and up be yant there there's a hill, and beyant that there's a bog that's flat — there's a power of shapes."

The reverend gentleman closed his eyes for several seconds, as if he were suffering, and then T1IK COQUETTE. said, " you are very ignorant and illiterate, I shall have a great deal of trouble I see — do you know who was the first man ?" " Yis,'' said Phil, eagerly, " Adam." " Where did he live?" " I dunna." " Who was his wife ?" Phil's mother prompted " Eve" audibly, and he answered "Shelah." " Tut, tut, tut, did you ever hear where they lived ?" " Yis, yer Riverence, but I mibremimber." " Ah, would you know if you heard it?" " I would." " Can you spell ?" « A thrifle." " Well the first letter is E." '- Ah !" said Phil, thoughtfully. "The next is D — well, and the next E, and then N, what does that spell ?" " Ay den." " No, not Ayden but Eden." " I know, I misremimbered firstly, it was Eden derry.'' Mr. Absolute rose, and so did his temper; " this," he said, is hardly to be believed, such igno rance I really never heard of before — the boy, how ever, is naturally stupid, that's plain, deficient in the rationality which characterizes the human species — madam," turning to Mrs. McAdam, "I regret that you should have witnessed such an ex hibition — I shall not return — the soil is evidently sterile," — he heaved a sigh, and sought in vain for the piece of cambric which he forgot had been lost to him some time before.

"Why thin," exclaimed the elder O'Flagherty, who became irritated at hearing his son abused, whose intelligence he had been admiring ever since the first question, -- why thin the divil a bit stupid he is now, sorra bit, there's not a cuter boy in the townland than the same Phil — not one — it well becomes yer Riverence to come to a poor man's, axin questions that 'ud puzzle a bi shop, so they would. Bedad and we don't wan't ye at all — I'd rather see Father Murt sittin' down and edifyin' huz with the weather and the craps, and the news from foreign parts, and maybe takin' a glass of the dew, when the weather 'ud THK COQUETTE. be hot. It's the heijjht of information he'd be giving huz 'stead of axin' questions — Ignorant, stupid, och, that's hard," — here a chorus of neigh bours chorused " thrue for ye, Denis asthore."

" Oblige me by permitting me to pass — you display an amount of ingratitude which surprises me, though I was not altogether unprepared for it, yes this is very sad, absence of intelligence, ingratitude — my dear Mrs., ahah — madam — if you will permit me I will — I shall be charmed to escort you — take care of that pool of water — perhaps in your presence I expressed myself rather too strongly, for you are I presume a na tive of this country, but really you must be aware how trying to the temper is a mind raised but a degree above the intelligence of the brute, 'tis sad, ah, yes. You were passing by, no doubt ?" " No," said Mrs. McAdam, " I came on pur- >} pose. -* If I might venture such a liberty, I would ask why you came ?" " To see you." "Indeed? well," said Mr. Absolute, with his mildest air, " now that you have seen me, let me TUB COQUETTE ask what — hem — what your impression of me has been? let me hope favourable."

" Well, when I said that I wanted to see you, I meant that I wanted to observe your manner of dealing with the poor people here. I have lived here many, many years, and, tho' our family was not originally Irish, it has been here long enough to be identified with the old families here, I take a great interest in every thing that concerns the welfare of the people here." " The exhibition we have just witnessed must have been painful to you ?" " Very," said Mrs. McAdam drily. " Do you think there would be any use in my repeating my visit ?" " Come and try." "What! now?" " Yes." " But my dear madam — impossible— the father of the family has abused my kindness— has forgot ten what is due. " ** Oh I know all that, and you called his son stupid and illiterate." " And so he was, to a most incredible degree."

" He was illiterate certainly, but not 6tu pid." "But," objected Mr. Absolute, "he did not know where Adam lived." " Are you sure that he was ever told ?" " He didn't know that the world was round." " Well," said Mrs. McAdam, smiling, "if no one had ever told you that such was the case, do you think you would have found it out ?" — this seemed rather to puzzle the reverend gentleman — " why of course you wouldn't ; besides you spoke such tall English asit is called here that they could not understand half you were saying — Here boy," she called to a lad who was passing by leading a donkey, which animal was dragging along a kreel of turf, " come here." " Pr-r-r-r-ew — Yis, my lady." " Is that good turf?" " Bedad is it, the most illegant black turf that iver was cut, as hard as a rock, yer ladyship never seen such turf."

" What do you want for it? — stay, Mr. Absolute, what ought I to give for this load of turf?" " Load of turf! why — a — really I haven't the slightest conception, in fact I hardly ever saw any before." " Bless me ! don't you know how much a kreel of turf 's worth, why every child here knows." " But that is no reason why I should know, they have been born here, and have heard a hun dred times — youseem amused, my good madam," and so she was, for the good old soul laughed 'till the tears quite threw a haze over her spec tacle glasses. " Well, well, well, Oh, dear me" — said Mrs. McAdam, wiping her spectacles, " how illiterate and stupid you must be never to have heard the price of turf — don't look shocked — Phil never heard about the earth being round, or about Eve, or in fact, a dozen other things that many of the children in your country understand per fectly, because these facts have been drummed into their ears — but set them to argue with Phil on a subject that he knows something about, and he would puzzle them very soon — he would, in deed.

Well, I won't ask you to return to the cottage to-day : I shall see them to-morrow, and will show them that you have mutually misunderstoodeach other. If you come home with me and dine, I will tell you the kind of people you have to do with here. I thought you might have called this morning, though a little bird told me you might be at one of the cottages. " You see Mr. Absolute," said Mrs. McAdam, kindly, "you are a young man and a stranger, I am an old woman, and what the people call an ' ould residenter,' so it follows as a matter~of course that I know more of their manners and feelings than you can : they are a warm-hearted, grateful people ; no matter what is said against them abroad ; and if they are dangerous as enemies, oh, they are matchless as friends. You English don't understand them..

They have been accused of being hot-headed — insubordinate — the reason is this. — The poor are always oppressed — every where, in every country, it always was so — it always will be so — The Irish are almost the only poor who won't submit to it; you may think their grievances light ; but a man with a large family to support, and tenpence a day to feed them with is very easily oppressed — no don't give that boy any thing — he knows that if he wants work I'll get it for him, and he has no excuse for begging since he is not ill — even if he were he would be taken care of. I have a good deal of land down there, and if they can't find employ ment elsewhere, I find something for them to do, but I never give them money for nothing, it has a bad effect. "One year I had so many applications for work that I had to make a pretence of reclaiming some bog by having drains cut, and all kinds of things done — and there isa field at the back of the house • — a potato-garden it ought to be — which has not been anything of the kind for many a day, because it's always being dug up by the boys, and weeded by old women:" and Mrs.McAJam laughed joyously — " I can't teach them, sir, that's not my forte, but I can try to make them industrious.

But here we are." The Rev. Augustus Absolute consented to dine, and the door was opened very wide by Mary, who presented to Mrs. McAdam, a letter, the contents of which ran thus : — Law Chambers, No — Henrietta Street. " Madam, " It is our unpleasant duty to inform you of the demise of our respected client, Miss Barbarra Collingwood, formerly of Bally-spatter, Co. of Galway, and late of Merrion Square, in the City of Dublin. We are happy to inform you that our lamented client, by a document bearing date July Gth, 1829, has bequeathed to you the whole of her private and personal property. " We think (should you favour us with the confidence with which we were honored by the late above mentioned lady,) that your presence in town would be advisable. *• We have the honour to remain, Madam, " Your obedient servants, " Kelly and Lambert. " Mrs. McAdam."

Chapter III The Coquette

Gentle reader, what is your idea of a Coquette? Your answer will be different, according to your experience, your age, and the specimens of the class with which you may have met. One man fancies that the term applies to a light-hearted, silvery-voiced, bright-eyed creature, who commands you to adore her by a glance, and then when you obey, laughs in your face, and escapes with a jest — an amiable little creature on the whole, but spoiled by admiration, and carried awayby exuberance of spirits — you shrug your shoulders, and with an exclamation of tout cela passer a, vote her rather charming than otherwise. What do you say, my graver friend ? "A lacy who has no steadiness of affection — one who is false and fickle, who loves, and sometimes with much earnestness, but whose constancy is not proof against a few weeks' absence, or a handsome stranger — one in fact of whom you would say — " I do confers thou'rt young and fair, And I light soon have learned to lcve thee : Did I not know — the lightest prayer That e'er was breathed hath power to move thee."

Ah ! that is your idea ? Well, that's not the kind of Coquette that I want to describe ; nor does she resemble the first description. 1 shall de scribe her with minuteness — to be forewarned is to be forearmed, you know — you may one clay meet her counterpart. Adaline Marsden was a coquette: she was not a flirt. You may think the terms are synono raous — they are not. She was about five and twenty years of age, under the middle height — she seemed even less tall than she really was, so perfectly proportioned and exquisitely modelled were her members. Her face, shaded by dark glossy hair, wore an expression of melancholy which was heightened by the almost entire absence of colour, except when excited, when a slight flush would spread over her entire face and neck, suddenly appearing to disappear as quickly.