Fanny Brawne

“ George Keats’s Mother-in-law. The significant but indicates that the absence of Brown was still, as was natural, more or less a condition of the presence of Miss Brawne. That Keats had, however, or thought he had, some reason for this condition, beyond the mere delicacy of lovers, is dimly shadowed by the cold My dear Fanny with which in Letter XXI the condition was first expressly prescribed, and more than shadowed by the agonized expression of a morbid sensibility in Letters XXXV and XXXVII. Probably a man in sound health would have found the cause trivial enough. ”

“ Life seems to stop there—I see no further. You have absorb’d me. I have a sensation at the present moment as though I was dissolving—I should be exquisitely miserable without the hope of soon seeing you. I should be afraid to separate myself far from you. My sweet Fanny, will your heart never change? My love, will it? I have no limit now to my love.... Your note came in just here. I cannot be happier away from you. ’Tis richer than an Argosy of Pearles. Do not threat me even in jest. I have been astonished that Men could die Martyrs for religion—I have shudder’d at it. ”

“ J. KEATS.
[68]
XXIV.
Sweetest Fanny,
You fear, sometimes, I do not love you so much as you wish? My dear Girl I love you ever and ever and without reserve. The more I have known the more have I lov’d. In every way—even my jealousies have been agonies of Love, in the hottest fit I ever had I would have died for you. I have vex’d you too much. But for Love! Can I help it? You are always new. The last of your kisses was ever the sweetest; the last smile the brightest; the last movement the gracefullest. ”

“ We hated her, and smoked her, and baited her, and, I think, drove her away. Miss ——, thinks her a paragon of fashion, and says she is the only woman in the world she would change persons with. What a stupe,—she is as superior as a rose to a dandelion.” [6]
[xxxix]
There is nothing explicit as to the date of this passage; but there is no longer any doubt that this sketch has reference to Miss Brawne, and that Keats had now found that most dangerous of objects a woman “alternating attraction and repulsion.” ”

“ John Keats.
[64]
XXI.
My dear Fanny,
I think you had better not make any long stay with me when Mr. Brown is at home. Whenever he goes out you may bring your work. You will have a pleasant walk today. I shall see you pass. I shall follow you with my eyes over the Heath. Will you come towards evening instead of before dinner? When you are gone, ’tis past—if you do not come till the evening I have something to look forward to all day. ”

“ I never knew before, what such a love as you have made me feel, was; I did not believe in it; my Fancy was afraid of it, [9] lest it should burn me up. But if you will fully love me, though there may be some fire, ’twill not be more than we can bear when moistened and bedewed with Pleasures. ”

“ I feel that a woman's life has on it the bloom of a butterfly's wing, and if that is once breathed on, its beauty is gone for ever—the woman's life is never again what it was—what it was meant to be. But if you wish, I will not go beyond the violet as my emblem of the best woman—my woman.”
“I thank heaven that I have no voice,” said Fanny gently, after a pause. Young Mr. North-cote, Sir Joshua's pupil, had approached Mrs. Burney—his eye was on Susy—in order to tell her that tea was being served in the drawing-room. ”

“ You are you—you yourself quite apart from the book. Whatever the book may be, you will still remain Fanny Burney, the best daughter and the best sister in the world. What does it matter if people—foolish people who know nothing about it—laugh at it or say nasty things about it? Do you think that that will make any of us like you the less?”
She put her arm about Fanny and kissed her on the cheek, and Fanny's tears began to fall. The young man standing by felt more uneasy than he had ever felt in his life. ”

“ Once or twice, however, he grumbled, but her ear assured her that his grumble was not a critical one; it was only meant to censure the behaviour of the rude Captain Mervain.
They were still in the garden when, shortly after noon, a chaise was heard in the lane: it appeared to be on its way to the house.
“What! as I live 'tis mamma and my sisters come to pay us a visit,” cried Fanny, seeing a handkerchief waved to her from the window.
“They shall be made welcome, for I cannot doubt that they have brought the third volume with them,” said Mr. Crisp, rising to receive his visitors. ”

“ Novel writing is not for young ladies any more than novel reading, and certainly talking in parables is worse still. Well, I have no more time to spend over your puzzles.”
“You would not find their solution to repay you, my dear,” said Fanny.
“Still, I am pleased to learn that you take a sensible view of Signor Rauzzini and his heroics—but, indeed, I cannot see that Mr. Barlowe should not be considered, with his prospects—his father is a mercer in gold and silver lace, as you know——”
“I have heard so—it is a profitable trade, I believe.” ”

“ Robert Black was wondering, as he watched her from down in front. Of course he watched her, he would have been hardly human if he had not, or if he had not also come, for the moment, at least, under her spell. Cleverness or real dramatic power—it was difficult to judge, as it is always difficult when the eyes are irresistibly attracted by fascination of face and form. In her dress Fanny had copied to the life the extravagantly revealing outlines of a certain daring and popular vaudeville actress. ”

“ Crisp will one day cause her to be regarded as one of the best letter-writers in the family, and that is something. It is a ladylike accomplishment, and one that is worth excelling in; it gives innocent pleasure to so many of her friends who live at a distance; and your father can always obtain plenty of franks, Mr. Charmier and Mr. Thrale are very obliging.”
Fanny was a little fidgety while her eldest sister and her stepmother were discussing her in a tone of indulgence which was more humiliating than open reprobation would have been. ”

“ A poor enough Sunday, I suppose, in the minds of those of you who spend yours golfing at the club, or motoring along grease-soaked roads that lead to a shore dinner and a ukulele band. But it turned Fanny Brandeis back a dozen years or more, so that she was again the little girl whose heart had ached at sight of the pale rose and, orange of the Wisconsin winter sunsets. She forgot all about layettes, and obstetrical outfits, and flannel bands, and safety pins; her mind was a blank in the matter of bootees, and catalogues, and our No. 29E8347, and those hungry bins that always yawned for more. ”

“ And now the beautiful Esther Burney was toying with the contents of her sister Fanny's work-basket, talking about her husband and his prospects, and inquiring what Mr. Garrick and James had to talk about in the room downstairs.
“Pray speak in French to Fanny,” said Mrs. Burney. “I cannot get Lottie and Susan to do so as frequently as I could wish. You must remember that poor Fanny has had none of your advantages, and I do not want her to be talked of as the dunce of the family. She really is not a dunce, you know; in spite of her bad sight she really has done some very pretty sewing.” ”

“ Burney, being well aware that Fanny was not one to complain unless with ample cause, charitably interposed between her and Mrs. Barlowe, whom she saw bearing down upon her from the other side of the room.
“Fanny and I will say our good-night to you now, my dear Martha,” she said. “You have treated us far too kindly. That must be our excuse for staying so long. When people drop in to tea they do not, as a rule, stop longer than an hour, as you know. But you overwhelmed us.”
“I was hoping—” began Mrs. Barlowe, trying to get on to Fanny, but by the adroitness of Mrs. Burney, not succeeding. ”

“ Good sense and good nature go hand in hand in plain grey taffeta, not down the primrose paths of life, but along the King's highway of every day, where they run no chance of jostling the simple foot-passengers or exciting the envy of any by the flaunting of feathers in their face. Good sense and good nature are best satisfied when they attract no attention, but pass on to obscurity, smiling at the struggle of others to be accounted persons of importance.”
“Then you have indeed made up your mind to marry Mr. Barlowe?” cried Esther.
Fanny laughed enigmatically. ”

“ If she had the ability even to make music such as one of her sisters could bring forth from the keys of the piano, she would have a better chance of being accounted worthy of a place beside Signor Rauzzini than if her novel found its way to the shelves of many readers. The writing of a novel was a poor achievement—nay, in the opinion of a good many people, including her own stepmother—a most practical woman—it was something to be ashamed of; and Fanny herself, thinking over all the novels written by women which she herself had read—most of them surreptitiously—was disposed to agree with her. ”

“ Mr. Barlowe is not a Common Councilman, but his father, Thomas's grandfather, was for a year Deputy-Master of the Wyre Drawers' Company—his certificate still hangs on the wall of the drawing-room. You must see it. Thomas, you will show Miss Burney your grandfather's certificate as Deputy-Master.”
“I should like very much to see it,” said Fanny quickly, “but I fear that mamma will wish me to accompany her home at once. My sisters are alone to-night and they will feel lonely: we promised to return early.” ”

“ Yes, poor Fanny was undoubtedly to be pitied; but she had really only herself to blame for the trouble that was looming in front of her when the secret of her authorship should be revealed to her father and her excellent stepmother—one of the best judges to be found anywhere of all sorts of needlework—not merely plain sewing and buttonholing, but satin stitch, herring-boning and running and felling.
The very next day Cousin Edward called at St. Martin's Street, carrying with him a small parcel neatly done up in white paper. He was lucky enough to find Fanny and Susan alone in the work-room ”

“ Crisp, and—oh, yes (she laughed now, perceiving that she had done an injustice to the other person who had been attracted to her—mainly, she thought, on account of her reputation for plain sewing) —a young man named Thomas Barlowe, the excellent son of the well-known mercer of gold and silver lace, in the Poultry!
Thinking of young Mr. Barlowe by the side of Signor Rauzzini, Fanny laughed again. She had so restricted an opinion of her own attractiveness that the tears actually came into her eyes for having given that derisive laugh as she compared the two young men ”

“ She might eat of things rare, and drink of things costly, but the sturdy, stocky little girl in the made-over silk dress, who had resisted the Devil in Weinberg's pantry on that long-ago Day of Atonement, would always be there at the feast. Myself, I confess I am tired of these stories of young women who go to the big city, there to do battle with failure, to grapple with temptation, sin and discouragement. So it may as well be admitted that Fanny Brandeis' story was not that of a painful hand-over-hand climb. ”

“ But how the secret has been kept so well is a wonder to me—kept from the powers that be, I mean—uncle and aunt. I wonder if your mother never had a suspicion of what was going on, especially as she knew all about your writing long ago.”
“I think that it was the copying out of the padre's History that saved me,” said Fanny. “Many a page of my novel I wrote when she believed that I was copying the notes for the History—yes, that, and the letters which Mr. Crisp insists on my sending him every week. ”

“ Burney's permission for you—so good an opportunity should not be thrown away,” said Mrs. Barlowe, giving the latter part of her sentence an unmistakable inflection as she looked toward her son and smiled.
She had gone round the table before Fanny could think of another excuse for evading the visit to the drawing-room in the company of Mr. Barlowe, the younger.
And Mr. Barlowe, the younger, was still by her side.
“Doesn't Uncle Kensit make a fine speech?” he inquired. “He is always ready. I have heard it said that he speaks longer than any Alderman in the Council.” ”

“ In a household where proficiency in music was the standard from which every member was judged, it was inevitable that her incompetence should be impressed upon her; but no one was hard upon her—the kindly “poor Fanny” of her father represented the attitude of the household toward her, even when she had confided to some of the members the fact that she was writing a novel. They had been startled; but, then, a novel was not a musical composition, and such an achievement could not be received with the warmth that Esther's playing received. ”

“ Fanny repeated.
Wallace bowed to Guy. “Good-night, sir,” he said, as he turned to go out.
“Isn’t he a lovely father?” said Fanny. “Oh, you needn’t be afraid of him. I just do this to him,” she exclaimed, twirling her little finger—“except—oh, [Pg 88] I know when to let him alone. Sometimes he’s dangerous. Oh, here comes Aunt Helen and that horrid Mr. West. What do you suppose would happen if Mr. West took his smile off? D’you suppose there’d be anything left?”
Helen Briggs looked surprised at seeing the girl. “Your uncle told me you had gone away with Mrs. McShane, Fanny,” she said. ”