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<h2> XVII </h2>
<p>MRS. VERNON TO LADY DE COURCY</p>
<p>Churchhill.</p>
<p>My dear Mother,—Mr. Vernon returned on Thursday night, bringing his
niece with him. Lady Susan had received a line from him by that day's
post, informing her that Miss Summers had absolutely refused to allow of
Miss Vernon's continuance in her academy; we were therefore prepared for
her arrival, and expected them impatiently the whole evening. They came
while we were at tea, and I never saw any creature look so frightened as
Frederica when she entered the room. Lady Susan, who had been shedding
tears before, and showing great agitation at the idea of the meeting,
received her with perfect self-command, and without betraying the least
tenderness of spirit. She hardly spoke to her, and on Frederica's bursting
into tears as soon as we were seated, took her out of the room, and did
not return for some time. When she did, her eyes looked very red and she
was as much agitated as before. We saw no more of her daughter. Poor
Reginald was beyond measure concerned to see his fair friend in such
distress, and watched her with so much tender solicitude, that I, who
occasionally caught her observing his countenance with exultation, was
quite out of patience. This pathetic representation lasted the whole
evening, and so ostentatious and artful a display has entirely convinced
me that she did in fact feel nothing. I am more angry with her than ever
since I have seen her daughter; the poor girl looks so unhappy that my
heart aches for her. Lady Susan is surely too severe, for Frederica does
not seem to have the sort of temper to make severity necessary. She looks
perfectly timid, dejected, and penitent. She is very pretty, though not so
handsome as her mother, nor at all like her. Her complexion is delicate,
but neither so fair nor so blooming as Lady Susan's, and she has quite the
Vernon cast of countenance, the oval face and mild dark eyes, and there is
peculiar sweetness in her look when she speaks either to her uncle or me,
for as we behave kindly to her we have of course engaged her gratitude.</p>
<p>Her mother has insinuated that her temper is intractable, but I never saw
a face less indicative of any evil disposition than hers; and from what I
can see of the behaviour of each to the other, the invariable severity of
Lady Susan and the silent dejection of Frederica, I am led to believe as
heretofore that the former has no real love for her daughter, and has
never done her justice or treated her affectionately. I have not been able
to have any conversation with my niece; she is shy, and I think I can see
that some pains are taken to prevent her being much with me. Nothing
satisfactory transpires as to her reason for running away. Her
kind-hearted uncle, you may be sure, was too fearful of distressing her to
ask many questions as they travelled. I wish it had been possible for me
to fetch her instead of him. I think I should have discovered the truth in
the course of a thirty-mile journey. The small pianoforte has been removed
within these few days, at Lady Susan's request, into her dressing-room,
and Frederica spends great part of the day there, practising as it is
called; but I seldom hear any noise when I pass that way; what she does
with herself there I do not know. There are plenty of books, but it is not
every girl who has been running wild the first fifteen years of her life,
that can or will read. Poor creature! the prospect from her window is not
very instructive, for that room overlooks the lawn, you know, with the
shrubbery on one side, where she may see her mother walking for an hour
together in earnest conversation with Reginald. A girl of Frederica's age
must be childish indeed, if such things do not strike her. Is it not
inexcusable to give such an example to a daughter? Yet Reginald still
thinks Lady Susan the best of mothers, and still condemns Frederica as a
worthless girl! He is convinced that her attempt to run away proceeded
from no, justifiable cause, and had no provocation. I am sure I cannot say
that it HAD, but while Miss Summers declares that Miss Vernon showed no
signs of obstinacy or perverseness during her whole stay in Wigmore
Street, till she was detected in this scheme, I cannot so readily credit
what Lady Susan has made him, and wants to make me believe, that it was
merely an impatience of restraint and a desire of escaping from the
tuition of masters which brought on the plan of an elopement. O Reginald,
how is your judgment enslaved! He scarcely dares even allow her to be
handsome, and when I speak of her beauty, replies only that her eyes have
no brilliancy! Sometimes he is sure she is deficient in understanding, and
at others that her temper only is in fault. In short, when a person is
always to deceive, it is impossible to be consistent. Lady Susan finds it
necessary that Frederica should be to blame, and probably has sometimes
judged it expedient to excuse her of ill-nature and sometimes to lament
her want of sense. Reginald is only repeating after her ladyship.</p>
<p>I remain, &c., &c.,</p>
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