Clarence Hervey

“ Clarence Hervey might have been more than a pleasant young man, if he had not been smitten with the desire of being thought superior in every thing, and of being the most admired person in all companies. He had been early flattered with the idea that he was a man of genius; and he imagined that, as such, he was entitled to be imprudent, wild, and eccentric. He affected singularity, in order to establish his claims to genius. He had considerable literary talents, by which he was distinguished at Oxford; ”

“ I do think, that by the time he is a widower his lordship will be quite another thing, quite an agreeable man—not a genius, not a Clarence Hervey—that you cannot expect. Apropos, what is the reason that we have seen so little of Clarence Hervey lately? He has certainly some secret attraction elsewhere. It cannot be that girl Sir Philip mentioned; no, she’s nothing new. Can it be at Lady Anne Percival’s?—or where can it be? Whenever he sees me, I think he asks when we go to Harrowgate. Now Oakly-park is within a few miles of Harrowgate. ”

“ By this time Clarence Hervey was equipped in a dry suit of clothes; and by the strength of an excellent constitution, which he had never injured, even amongst his dissipated associates, he had recovered from the effects of his late imprudence.—“Clary, let’s away, here’s the coach,” said Mr. St. George. “Why, my boy—that’s a famous fellow, faith!—why, you look the better for being drowned. ‘Pon honour, if I were you, I would jump into the Serpentine river once a day.” ”

“ It was about a year before he had seen Belinda that Clarence Hervey returned from his travels; he had been in France just before the Revolution, when luxury and dissipation were at their height in Paris, and when a universal spirit of licentious gallantry prevailed. Some circumstances in which he was personally interested disgusted him strongly with the Parisian belles; he felt that women who were full of vanity, affectation, and artifice, whose tastes were perverted, and whose feelings were depraved, were equally incapable of conferring or enjoying real happiness. ”

“ But longer than half an hour she could not be silent on the subject uppermost in her thoughts.
“If Clarence Hervey,” cried she, “were not the most honourable of blockheads, he might be the most happy of men. This Virginia!—oh, how I hate her!—I am sure poor Clarence cannot love her.”
“Because you hate her—or because you hate her without having ever seen her?” said Belinda.
“Oh, I know what she must be,” replied Lady Delacour: “a soft, sighing, dying damsel, who puts bullfinches into her bosom. Smile, smile, my dear; you cannot help it ”

“ Clarence Hervey took it from her with a look which said much, and which she was perfectly capable of understanding.
“Young man,” said she, “it is very unfashionable to treat age and infirmity with politeness. I wish that your friend, Lady Delacour, may at my time of life meet with as much respect, as she has met with admiration and gallantry in her youth. Poor woman, her head has absolutely been turned with admiration—and if fame say true, Mr. Hervey has had his share in turning that head by his flattery.” ”

“ Her ladyship broke away from Belinda, returned to Clarence Hervey, and told the whole affair with that peculiar grace with which she knew how to make a good story of a bad one. Clarence was as favourable an auditor at this time as she could possibly have found; for no human being could value money less than he did, and all sense of her ladyship’s meanness was lost in his joy at discovering that Belinda was worthy of his esteem. ”

“ Clarence Hervey acknowledged he had lost his bet, joined in the laugh, and declared that fifty guineas was too little to pay for the sight of the finest hair that he had ever beheld. “I declare he deserves a lock of la belle chevelure for that speech, Miss Portman,” cried Lady Delacour; “I’ll appeal to all the world—Mad. de Pomenars must have a lock to measure with Mad. de Grignan’s? Come, a second rape of the lock, Belinda.” ”

“ Clarence Hervey, ma’am, should set his wits, as one may say, to be the ruin of such a sweet, innocent-looking young creature, and then desert her in that barbarous way, after bringing a clergyman to deceive her with a mock ceremony, and all—oh! there is no fashion, nor nothing can countenance such wickedness! ‘tis the worst of wickedness and cruelty—and I shall think and say so to the latest hour of my life.”
“Well said, Marriott,” cried Lady Delacour. ”

“ When Lady Delacour repeated to Miss Portman the message about “simplicity of mind and dignity of character,” she frankly said—
“Belinda, notwithstanding all this, observe, I’m determined to retain Clarence Hervey among the number of my public worshippers during my life—which you know cannot last long. After I am gone, my dear, he’ll be all your own, and of that I give you joy. Posthumous fame is a silly thing, but posthumous jealousy detestable.” ”

“ She may thank Clarence Hervey for that: it’s like him,—he thinks he’s a better judge of horses, and wine, and every thing else, than any body in the world. Damme, now if I don’t believe he thinks nobody else but himself has eyes enough to see that a fine woman’s a fine woman; but I’d have him to know, that Miss Belinda Portman has been Sir Philip Baddely’s toast these two months. ”

“ He set out upon a tour to the continent, and I returned with Harriot Freke to London, and forgot the existence of such a person as Clarence Hervey for three or four years. Unless people can be of some use, or unless they are actually present, let them be ever so agreeable or meritorious, we are very apt to forget them. One grows strangely selfish by living in the world: ‘tis a perfect cure for romantic notions of gratitude, and love, and so forth. ”

“ Hartley?” looking round: “I do not see him.”
“No: for I have hid him,” said Lady Delacour: “he shall be forthcoming presently.”
“Dear Mr. Clarence Hervey, what have you done with my Virginia?” said Mrs. Ormond, coming into the room.
“Dear Mrs. Ormond, what have you done with her?” replied Clarence. “By your mistaken kindness, by insisting upon doing us both good against our wills, you were very near making us both miserable for life. But I blame nobody; I have no right to blame any one so much as myself. ”

“ Hervey had not a farthing, he should prefer him to every man upon earth; he, however, promised that he would conceal his wishes, and that his daughter should act entirely from the dictates of her own mind. In the fulness of his heart, he told Clarence all those circumstances of his conduct towards Virginia’s mother which had filled his soul with remorse. ”

“ It is Clarence Hervey’s fancy; but this is a dead secret—dead—Clary no more thinks that we know it, than the man in the moon.”
“Clarence Hervey’s fancy! Then I make no doubt of its being good for something,” said Lady Delacour, “if the painter have done justice to his imagination; for Clarence has really a fine imagination.”
“Oh, damme! ‘tis not amongst the history pieces,” cried Sir Philip; “‘tis a portrait.”
“And a history piece, too, ‘pon honour!” said Rochfort: “a family history piece, I take it, ‘pon honour! it will turn out,” said Rochfort ”

“ Clarence Hervey—an acquaintance, and great admirer of my Lady Delacour. He is really an uncommonly pleasant young man, is highly connected, and has a fine independent fortune. Besides, he is a man of wit and gallantry, quite a connoisseur in female grace and beauty—just the man to bring a new face into fashion: so, my dear Belinda, I make it a point—look well when he is introduced to you, and remember, what I have so often told you, that nobody can look well without taking some pains to please. ”

“ The doctor paused and looked round. “Those people cannot hear what we are saying, I believe?”
“Oh, no,” said Belinda, “they are intent upon themselves.” Doctor X——fixed his eyes mildly upon Clarence Hervey, and exclaimed in an earnest friendly tone—“What a pity, Mr. Hervey, that a young man of your talents and acquirements, a man who might be any thing, should—pardon the expression—choose to be—nothing; should waste upon petty objects powers suited to the greatest ”

“ Well, we shall not force you to be in raptures with it—shall we, Miss Portman? A man may be tired of the most beautiful face in the world, or the most beautiful picture; but really there is so much sweetness, so much innocence, such tender melancholy in this countenance, that, if I were a man, I should inevitably be in love with it, and in love for ever! Such beauty, if it were in nature, would certainly fix the most inconstant man upon earth.”
Belinda ventured to take her eyes for an instant from the picture, to see whether Clarence Hervey looked like the most inconstant man upon earth. ”

“ There was something so open in Hervey’s countenance, such a strong expression of truth in his manner, that it could not be resisted, and Vincent, in an altered voice, exclaimed, “You acknowledge that you have loved Belinda—and could you cease to love her? Impossible!—And, loving her, must you not detest me?”
“No,” said Clarence, holding out his hand to him; “I wish to be your friend. I have not the baseness to wish to deprive others of happiness because I cannot enjoy it myself. In one word, to put you at ease with me for ever, I have no pretensions, I can have none, to Miss Portman. ”

“ Hervey: so do not, under pretence of obliging me, or for any other consideration, yoke yourself to some damsel that you will be ashamed to produce. For one woman worthy to be Clarence Hervey’s wife, I have seen, at a moderate computation, a hundred fit to be his mistress. If he should, on this subject, mistake the fitness of things or of persons, he would indeed be in a fair way to be unhappy for life. ”

“ Has the new world afforded you any coin half so valuable?”
The Spanish gentleman’s grave replies to this playful question gave a new turn to the conversation, and relieved Clarence Hervey from his embarrassment. Lady Delacour, though still in high spirits, was easily diverted to other objects. She took the Spaniard with her to the next room, to show him a picture of Mary, Queen of Scots. ”

“ If all goes well, Major Trent and I can arrange to return to Lhakang-gompa."
"You think," said Hsien Sgam, "it will be easy to leave the city?"
Kerth made a deprecatory gesture. "That is not difficult. I shall ride in the sedan-chair of His Holiness Sâkya-mûni, and until we pass Amber Bridge your Transparency will sit beside me to prevent any interference with our plans. There you may change to a pony and ride between two of the major's muleteers. Your own palanquin will be put to good use, as Miss Charteris can occupy that. ”

“ He smiled to himself, grimly. What Hsien Sgam had said was fresh in his ears. One of her men passed and opened the gate. Outside, on the embankment, she turned her mount, waiting at one side while the caravan moved out. Trent reined in his pony beside her.
"Look!" she commanded, pointing through the gate at the magnificent mass of Lhakang-gompa, above whose broken roofs the moon was poised. "Shingtse-lunpo—Lhakang-gompa—all! I hold them, like this!" And she made a gesture and laughed—that old familiar laugh that rippled low in her throat. "All is not finished! Nay! ”

“ His eyes swerved to the path from the temple. After a moment, shadows took shape in the moonlight—mounts and riders. He wheeled his pony and rode to meet the caravan.
Sarojini Nanjee sat erect upon a horse at the head of a string of mules; the scent of sandalwood awakened in him a queer alertness. She always breathed of earth-perfume—an odor of the senses. Beyond her were the looming shapes of three men—muleteers. Trent saw the contours of sacks on the pack-animals.
"Your men have left the city?" was her first question. Her breath came quickly and the black opals had been kindled in her eyes. ”

“ A shout rose from the multitude; died. Trent heard a faint, minor chant—coming from behind the yak-hair curtains, he imagined. When this intoning ceased, trumpets blared again; the curtains at the stairhead parted.
Hushed expectancy shut down like a tangible weight. The rapid play of sunlight on lances and bare blades, on burnished helmets and golden accoutrements, seemed a visible manifestation of the feverish intensity that charged the throng. The majority were standing with bowed heads; some had prostrated themselves. Anticipation transfigured every face. ”

“ Good night, Sir Francis."
She gave him her hand and moved to the door, where she halted, turning back.
"I nearly forgot," she said. "There is one other clause in the agreement. Major Trent must be kept in ignorance of the party with whom he is to work. To him you may call me—well, the Swaying Cobra." She smiled again. "By that name I was known when I danced on the Continent."
Then she departed, melting into the dusky hallway.
After a moment Sir Francis moved to the window and parted the draperies slightly. The palanquin was passing, swimming in yellow moonlight. ”

“ Why?"
"Just saw some one leave the compound; must have been he." Manlove returned to his chair. "Trent, I envy you—even if they are balmy at Delhi. This doctoring heathens isn't all it's colored up to be. It's getting on my nerves. I even dream about fever and stinking fakirs."
Trent consulted his wrist-watch. "I have to ride up to Colonel Urqhart's and make a report. Remember the chap at Meera, Chatterjee? Some hakim burned his child's stomach with an iron. Of course she died. I'm going to make an example of him." He rose. "I have to wash up a bit. I suppose you're going to the lawn party?" ”