Juliet, who perceived that the windows were still crowded with company,
contentedly kept her place; and, taking up the second volume of the
Guardian, found, in the lively instruction, the chaste morality, and the
exquisite humour of Addison, an enjoyment which no repetition can cloy.
In a short time, to her great discomposure, she was broken in upon by
Ireton; who, drawing before the door, which he shut, an easy chair, cast
himself indolently upon it, and, stretching out his arms, said, 'Ah ha!
the fair Ellis! How art thee, my dear?'
Far more offended than surprised by this freedom, Juliet, perceiving
that she could not escape, affected to go on with her reading, as if he
had not entered the building.
'Don't be angry, my dear,' he continued, 'that I did not speak to you
before all those people. There's no noticing a pretty girl, in public,
without raising such a devil of a clamour, that it's enough to put a man
out of countenance. Besides, Mrs Ireton is such a very particular quiz,
that she would be sure to contrive I should never have a peep at you
again, if once she suspected the pleasure I take in seeing you. However,
I am going to turn a dutiful son, and spend some days here. And, by that
means, we can squeeze an opportunity, now and then, of getting a little
chat together.'
Juliet could no longer refrain from raising her head, with amazement, at
this familiar assurance: but he went on, totally disregarding the rebuke
of her indignant eye.
'How do you like your place here, my dear? Mrs Ireton's rather qualmish,
I am afraid. I never can bear to stay with her myself; except when I
have some point to carry. I can't devise what the devil could urge you
to come into such a business. And where's Harleigh? What's he about?
Gone to old Nick I hope with all my heart! But you,--why are you
separated? What's the reason you are not with him?'
Yet more provoked, though determined not to look up again, Juliet fixed
her eyes upon the book.
Ireton continued: 'What a sly dog he is, that Harleigh! But what the
deuce could provoke him to make me cut such a silly figure before Lord
Melbury, with my apologies, and all that? He took me in, poz! I thought
he'd nothing to do with you. And if you had not had that fainting fit,
at the concert; which I suppose you forgot to give him notice of, that
put him so off his guard, I should have believed all he vowed and swore,
of having no connection with you, and all that, to this very moment.'
This was too much. Juliet gravely arose, put down her book, and said,
with severity, 'Mr Ireton, you will be so good as to let me pass!'
'No, not I! No, not I, my dear!' he answered, still lolling at his ease.
'We must have a little chat together first. 'Tis an age since I have
been able to speak with you. I have been confounded discreet, I promise
you. I have not told your secret to a soul.'
'What secret, Sir?' cried Juliet, hastily.
'Why who you are, and all that.'
'If you knew, Sir,' recovering her calmness, she replied, 'I should not
have to defend myself from the insults of a son, while under the
protection of his mother!'
'Ha! ha! ha!' cried he. 'What a droll piece of dainty delicacy thee art!
I'd give a cool hundred, this moment, only to know what the deuce puts
it into thy little head, to play this farce such a confounded length of
time, before one comes to the catastrophe.'
Juliet, with a disdainful gesture, again took her book.
'Why won't you trust me, my dear? You sha'n't repent it, I promise you.
Tell me frankly, now, who are you?--Hay?'
Juliet only turned over a new leaf of her book.
'How can you be so silly, child?--Why won't you let me serve you? You
don't know what use I may be of to you. Come, make me your friend! only
trust me, and I'll go to the very devil for you with pleasure.'
Juliet read on.
'Come, my love, don't be cross! Speak out! Put aside these dainty airs.
Surely you a'n't such a little fool, as to think to take me in, as you
have done Melbury and Harleigh?'
Juliet felt her cheeks now heated with increased indignation.
'As to Melbury,--'tis a mere schoolboy, ready to swallow any thing; and
as to Harleigh, he's such a queer, out of the way genius, that he's like
nobody: but as to me, my dear, I'm a man of the world. Not so easily
played upon, I promise you! I have known you from the very beginning!
Found you out at first sight! Only I did not think it worth while
telling you so, while you appeared so confounded ugly. But now that I
see you are such a pretty creature, I feel quite an interest for you. So
tell me who are you? Will you?'
Somewhat piqued, at length, by her resolute silence, 'Nay,' he added,
with affected scorn, 'don't imagine I have any view! Don't disturb
yourself with any freaks and qualms of that sort. You are a fine girl,
to be sure. Devilish handsome, I own; but still
too--too--grave,--grim,--What the deuce is the word I mean? for my
taste. I like something more buckish. So pray make yourself easy. I
shan't interfere with your two sparks. I am perfectly aware I should
have but a bad chance. I know I am neither as good a pigeon to pluck as
Melbury, nor as marvellous a wight to overcome as Harleigh. But I can't
for my life make out why you don't take to one or t'other of them, and
put yourself at your ease. I'm deadly curious to know what keeps you
from coming to a finish. Melbury would be managed the easiest; but I
strongly suspect you like Harleigh best. What do you turn your back for?
That I mayn't see you blush? Come, come, don't play the baby with a man
of the world like me.'
To the infinite relief of the disgusted Juliet, she now heard the
approach of some footstep. Ireton, who heard it also, nimbly arose,
and, softly moving his chair from the door, cast half his body out of
the window, and, lolling upon his elbows, began humming an air; as if
totally occupied in regarding the sea.
A footman, who entered, told Juliet that his lady desired that she would
come to the parlour, to play and sing to the company, while they
breakfasted.
Juliet, colouring at this unqualified order, hesitated what to answer;
while Ireton, turning round, and pretending not to have heard what was
said, maliciously, made the man repeat, 'My lady, Sir, bid me tell Miss
Ellis, that she must come to play and sing to the company.'
'Play and sing?' repeated Ireton. 'O the devil! Must we be bored with
playing and singing too? But I did not know breakfast was ready, and I
am half starved.'
He then sauntered from the building; but the moment that the footman was
out of sight, turned back, to say, 'How devilish provoking to be
interrupted in this manner! How can we contrive to meet again, my dear?'
The answer of Juliet was shutting and bolting the door.
His impertinence, however, occupied her mind only while she was under
its influence; the insignificance of his character, notwithstanding the
malice of his temper, made it sink into nothing, to give way to the new
rising difficulty, how she might bear to obey, or how risk to refuse,
the rude and peremptory summons which she had just received. Ought I,
she cried, to submit to treatment so mortifying? Are there no boundaries
to the exactions of prudence upon feeling? or, rather, is there not a
mental necessity, a call of character, a cry of propriety, that should
supersede, occasionally, all prudential considerations, however
urgent?--Oh! if those who receive, from the unequal conditions of life,
the fruits of the toils of others, could,--only for a few
days,--experience, personally, how cruelly those toils are embittered by
arrogance, or how sweetly they may be softened by kindness,--the race of
the Mrs Iretons would become rare,--and Lady Aurora Granville might,
perhaps, be paralleled!
Yet, with civility, with good manners, had Mrs Ireton made this request;
not issued it as a command by a footman; Juliet felt that, in her
present dependent condition, however ill she might be disposed for
music, or for public exhibition, she ought to yield: and even now, the
horror of having another asylum to seek; the disgrace of seeming driven,
thus continually, from house to house; though they could not lessen her
repugnance to indelicacy and haughtiness, cooled all ardour of desire
for trying yet another change; till she should have raised a sufficient
sum for joining Gabriella; and softening, nay delighting, the future
toils to which she might be destined, by the society of that cherished
friend.
In a few minutes, she was visited by Selina, who, rapturously embracing
her, declared that she could not stay away from her any longer; and
volubly began her usual babble of news and tales; to all which Juliet
gave scarcely the coldest attention; till she had the satisfaction of
hearing that the health of Elinor was re-established.
Selina then owned that she had been sent by Mrs Ireton, to desire that
Miss Ellis would make more haste.
Juliet worded a civil excuse; which Selina, with hands uplifted, from
amazement, carried back to the breakfast-room.
Soon afterwards, peals of laughter announced the vicinity of the Miss
Crawleys; who merrily called aloud upon Ireton, to come and help them
to haul The Ellis, will ye, nill ye? to the piano-forte, to play and
sing.
Happy in this intimation of their purpose, Juliet bolted the door; and
would not be prevailed upon to open it, either by their vociferous
prayers, or their squalls of disappointment.
But, in another minute, a slight rustling sound drawing her eyes to a
window, she saw Ireton preparing to make a forced entry.
She darted, now, to the door, and, finding the passage clear, as the
Miss Crawleys had gone softly round, to witness the exploit of Ireton,
seized the favourable moment for eluding observation; and was nearly
arrived at the house, before the besiegers of the cage perceived that
the bird was flown.