Offended, indignant; escaped, yet without safety; free, yet without
refuge; Juliet, hurried into the noble mansion, with no view but to find
an immediate hiding-place, where, unseen, she might allow some vent to
her wounded feelings, and, unmarked, remain till the haughty party
should be gone, and she could seek some humble conveyance for her own
return.
Concluding her in haste for some commission of Mrs Ireton's, the
servants let her pass nearly unobserved; and she soon came to a long
gallery, hung with genealogical tables of the Arundel family, and with
various religious reliques, and historical curiosities.
Believing herself alone, and in a place of which the stillness suited
her desire of solitude and concealment, she had already shut the door
before she saw her mistake. What, then, was her astonishment, what her
emotion, when she discerned, seated, and examining a part of the
hangings, at the further end of the gallery, the gentle form of Lady
Aurora Granville!
Sudden transport, though mingled with a thousand apprehensions,
instantly converted every dread that could depress into every hope that
could revive her. A start evinced that she was seen. She endeavoured to
courtesy, and would have advanced; but, the first moment over, fear,
uncertainty, and conflicting doubts took place of its joy, and robbed
her of force. Her dimmed eyes perceived not the smiling pleasure with
which Lady Aurora had risen at her approach; her breast heaved quick;
her heart swelled almost to suffocation; and, wholly disordered, she
leaned against a window-frame cut in the immensely thick walls of the
castle.
Lady Aurora now ran fleetly forward, exclaiming, in a voice of which the
tender melody spoke the softness of her soul, 'Miss Ellis! My dear Miss
Ellis! have I, indeed, the happiness to meet with you again? O! if you
could know how I have desired, have pined for it!--But,--are you ill?!
You cannot be angry? Miss Ellis! sweet Miss Ellis! Can you ever have
believed that it has been my fault that I have appeared so unkind, so
hard, so cruel?'
With a fulness of joy that, in conquering doubt, overpowered timidity,
Juliet now, with rapturous tears, and resistless tenderness, flung
herself upon the neck of Lady Aurora, whom she encircled with her arms,
and strained fondly to her bosom.
But the same vent that gave relief to internal oppression brought her to
a sense of external impropriety: she felt that it was rather her part to
receive than to bestow such marks of affection. She drew back; and her
cheeks were suffused with the most vivid scarlet, when she observed the
deep colour which dyed those of Lady Aurora at this action; though
evidently with the blushes of surprise, not of pride.
Ashamed, and hanging her head, Juliet would have attempted some apology;
but Lady Aurora, warmly returning her embrace, cried, 'How happy, and
how singular a chance that we should have fixed upon this day for
visiting Arundelcastle! We have been making a tour to the Isle of Wight
and to Portsmouth; and we did not intend to go to Brighthelmstone; so
that I had no hope, none upon earth, of such a felicity as that of
seeing my dear Miss Ellis. I need not, I think, say it was not I who
formed our plan, when I own that we had no design to visit
Brighthelmstone, though I knew, from Lady Barbara Frankland, that Miss
Ellis was there?'
'Alas! I fear,' answered Juliet, 'the design was to avoid
Brighthelmstone! and to avoid it lest a blessing such as I now
experience should fall to my lot! Ah, Lady Aurora! by the pleasure,--the
transport, rather, with which your sudden sight has made me appear to
forget myself, judge my anguish, my desolation, to be banished from your
society, and banished as a criminal!'
Lady Aurora shuddered and hid her face. 'O Miss Ellis!' she cried, 'what
a word! never may I hear it,--so applied,--again, lest it should
alienate me from those I ought to respect and esteem! and you so good,
so excellent, would be sorry to see me estrange myself, even though it
were for your own sake, from those to whom I owe gratitude and
attachment. I must try to shew my admiration of Miss Ellis in a manner
that Miss Ellis herself will not condemn. And will not that be by
speaking to her without any disguise? And will she not have the goodness
to encourage me to do it? For the world I would not take a liberty with
her;--for the universe I would not hurt her!--but if it were possible
she could condescend to give, ... however slightly, however imperfectly,
some little explanation to ... to ... Mrs Howel....'
Juliet here, with a strong expression of horrour, interrupted her: 'Mrs
Howel?--O no! I cannot speak with Mrs Howel!--I had nearly said I can
see Mrs Howel no more! But happier days would soon subdue resentment.
And, indeed, what I feel even now, may more justly be called terrour.
Appearances have so cruelly misrepresented me, that I have no right to
be indignant, nor even surprised that they should give rise to false
judgments. I have no right to expect,--in a second instance,--unknown,
friendless, lonely as I am! a trusting angel! a Lady Aurora!'
The tears of Lady Aurora now flowed as fast as her own. 'If I have been
so fortunate,' she cried, 'as to inspire such sweet kindness in so noble
a mind, even in the midst of its unhappiness, I shall always prize it as
the greatest of honours, and try to use it so as to make me become
better; that you may never wound me by retracting it, nor be wounded
yourself by being ashamed of your partiality.'
With difficulty Juliet now forbore casting herself at the feet of Lady
Aurora, the hem of whose garment she would have kissed with extacy, had
not her own pecuniary distresses, and the rank of her young friend, made
her recoil from what might have the semblance of flattery. She attempted
not to speak; conscious of the inadequacy of all that she could utter
for expressing what she felt, she left to the silent eloquence of her
streaming, yet transport-glittering eyes, the happy task of
demonstrating her gratitude and delight.
With calmer, though extreme pleasure, Lady Aurora perceived the
impression which she had made. 'See,' she cried, again embracing her;
'see whether I trust in your kindness, when I venture, once more, to
renew my earnest request, my entreaty, my petition--'
'O! Lady Aurora! Who can resist you? Not I! I am vanquished! I will tell
you all! I will unbosom myself to you entirely!'
'No, my Miss Ellis, no! not to me! I will not even hear you! Have I not
said so? And what should make me change? All I have been told by Lady
Barbara Frankland of your exertions, has but increased my admiration;
all she has written of your sufferings, your disappointments, and the
patient courage with which you have borne them, has but more endeared
you to my heart. No explanation can make you fairer, clearer, more
perfect in my eyes. I take, indeed, the deepest interest in your
welfare; but it is an interest that makes me proud to wait, not curious
to hear; proud, my Miss Ellis, to shew my confidence, my trust in your
excellencies! If, therefore, you will have the goodness to speak, it
must be to others, not to me! I should blush to be of the number of
those who want documents, certificates, to love and honour you!'
Again Juliet was speechless; again all words seemed poor, heartless,
unworthy to describe the sensibility of her soul, at this touching proof
of a tenderness so consonant to her wishes, yet so far surpassing her
dearest expectations. She hung over her ingenuous young friend; she
sighed, she even sobbed with unutterable delight; while tears of rapture
rolled down her glowing cheeks, and while her eyes were lustrous with a
radiance of felicity that no tears could dim.
Charmed, and encouraged, Lady Aurora continued: 'To those, then, who
have not had the happiness to see you so justly; who dwell only upon the
singularity of your being so ... alone, and so ... young,--O how often
have I told them that I was sure you as little knew as merited their
evil constructions! How often have I wished to write to you! how certain
have I felt that all your motives to concealment, even the most
respectable, would yield to so urgent a necessity, as that of clearing
away every injurious surmise! Speak, therefore, my Miss Ellis, though
not to me! even from them, when you have trusted them, I will hear
nothing till the time of your secresy is over; that I may give them an
example of the discretion they must observe with others. Yet speak! have
the goodness to speak, that every body,--my uncle Denmeath himself,--and
even Mrs Howel,--may acknowledge and respect your excellencies and your
virtues as I do! And then, my Miss Ellis, who shall prevent,--who will
even desire to prevent my shewing to the whole world my sense of your
worth, and my pride in your friendship?'
The struggles that now heaved the breast of Juliet were nearly too
potent for her strength. She gasped for breath; she held her hand to her
heart; and when, at length, the kind caresses and gentle pleadings of
Lady Aurora, brought back her speech, she painfully pronounced, 'Shall I
repay goodness so exquisite, by filling with regret the sweet mind that
intends me only honour and consolation? Must the charm of such
unexpected kindness, even while it penetrates my heart with almost
piercing delight, entail, from its resistless persuasion, a misery upon
the rest of my days, that may render them a burthen from which I may
hourly sigh,--nay pray, to be delivered?'
Seized with horrour and astonishment, Lady Aurora exclaimed, 'Oh heaven,
no! I must be a monster if I would not rather die, immediately die, than
cause you any evil! Miss Ellis, my dear Miss Ellis! forget I have made
such a request, and forgive my indiscretion! With all your misfortunes,
Miss Ellis, all your so undeserved griefs, you are quite a stranger to
sorrow, compared to that which I should experience, if, through me,
through my means, you should be exposed to any fresh injury!'
'Angelic goodness!' cried Juliet, deeply affected: 'I blush, I blush to
hear you without casting myself entirely into your power, without making
you immediate arbitress of my fate! Yet,--since you demand not my
confidence for your own satisfaction,--can I know that to spread it
beyond yourself,--your generous self!--might involve me in instantaneous
earthly destruction, and, voluntarily, suffer your very benevolence to
become its instrument? With regard to Lord Denmeath,--to your uncle,--I
must say nothing; but with regard to Mrs Howel,--let me conjure your
ladyship to consent to my utterly avoiding her, that I may escape the
dreadful accusations and reproaches that my cruel situation forbids me
to repel. I have no words to paint the terrible impression she has left
upon my mind. All that I have borne from others is short of what I have
suffered from that lady! The debasing suspicions of Mrs Maple, the
taunting tyranny of Mrs Ireton, though they make me blush to owe,--or
rather, to earn from them the subsistence without which I know not how
to exist; have yet never smote so rudely and so acutely to my inmost
heart, as the attack I endured from Mrs Howel! They rob me, indeed, of
comfort, of rest, and of liberty--but they do not sever me from Lady
Aurora!'
'Alas, my Miss Ellis! and have I, too, joined in the general persecution
against such afflicted innocence? I feel myself the most unpardonable of
all not to have acquiesced, without one ungenerous question, or even
conjecture; in full reliance upon the right and the necessity of your
silence. I ought to have forseen that if it were not improper you should
comply, your own noble way of thinking would have made all entreaty as
useless as it has been impertinent. Yet when prejudice alone parts us,
how could I help trying to overcome it? And even my brother, though he
would forfeit, I believe, his life in your defence; and though he says
he is sure you are all purity and virtue; and though he thinks that
there is nothing upon earth that can be compared with you;--even he has
been brought to agree to the cruel resolution, that I should defer
knitting myself closer to my Miss Ellis, till she is able to have the
goodness to let us know--'
She stopt, alarmed, for the cheeks of Juliet were suddenly dyed with the
deepest crimson; though the transient tint faded away as she pronounced,
'Lord Melbury!--even Lord Melbury!--' and they became Pale as death,
while, in a faint voice, and with stifled emotion, she added, 'He is
right! He acts as a brother; and as a brother to a sister whom he can
never sufficiently appreciate.--And yet, the more I esteem his
circumspection, the more deeply I must be wounded that calumny,--that
mystery,--that dire circumstance, should make me seem dangerous, where,
otherwise--'
Unable longer to constrain her feelings, she sunk upon a seat and wept.
'O Miss Ellis? What have I done?' cried Lady Aurora. 'How have I been so
barbarous, so inconsiderate, so unwise? If my poor brother had caused
you this pain, how should I have blamed him? And how grievously would he
have repented! How severely, then, ought I to be reproached! I who have
done it myself, without his generous precipitancy of temper to palliate
such want of reflection!--'
The sudden entrance of Selina here interrupted the conversation. She
came tripping forward, to acquaint Lady Aurora that the party had just
discerned a magnificent vessel; and that every body said if her ladyship
did not come directly, it would be sailed away.
At sight of Juliet, she ran to embrace her, with the warmest expressions
of friendship; unchecked by a coldness which she did not observe, though
now, from the dissatisfaction excited by so unseasonable an intrusion,
it was far more marked, than while it had been under the qualifying
influence of contempt.
But when she found that neither caresses, nor kind words, could make her
share with Lady Aurora, even for a moment, the attention of Juliet, she
became a little confused; and, drawing her apart, asked what was the
matter? consciously, without waiting for any answer, running into a
string of simple apologies, for not speaking to her in public; which she
should always, she said, do with the greatest pleasure; for she thought
her the most agreeable person in the whole-world; if it were not, that,
nobody knowing her, it would look so odd.
All answer, save a smile half disdainful, half pitying, was precluded by
the appearance of the Arramedes, Mrs Ireton, and Miss Brinville; who
announced to Lady Aurora that the ship was already out of sight.
Upon perceiving Juliet, they were nearly as much embarrassed as herself;
for though she instantly retreated, it was evident that she had been
sitting by the side of Lady Aurora, in close and amicable conference.
An awkward general silence ensued, when Juliet, hearing other steps, was
moving off; but Lady Aurora, following, and holding out her hand,
affectionately said, 'Are you going, Miss Ellis? Must you go? And will
you not bid me adieu?'
Touched to the soul at this public mark of kindness, Juliet was
gratefully returning, when the voice of Lord Melbury spoke his near
approach. Trembling and changing colour, her folded hands demanded
excuse of Lady Aurora for a precipitate yet reluctant flight; but she
had still found neither time nor means to escape, when Lord Melbury, who
was playing with young Loddard, entered the gallery, saying, 'Aurora,
your genealogical studies have lost you a most beautiful sea-view.'
The boy, spying Juliet, whom he was more than ever eager to join when he
saw that she strove to avoid notice; darted from his lordship, calling
out, 'Ellis! Ellis! look! look! here's Ellis!'
Lord Melbury, with an air of the most animated surprize and delight,
darted forward also, exclaiming, 'Miss Ellis! How unexpected a pleasure!
The moment I saw Mrs Ireton I had some hope I might see, also, Miss
Ellis--but I had already given it up as delusory.'
Again the fallen countenance of Juliet brightened into sparkling beauty.
The idea that even Lord Melbury had been infected by the opinions which
had been circulated to her disadvantage, had wounded, had stung her to
the quick: but to find that, notwithstanding he had been prevailed upon
to acquiesce that his sister, while so much mystery remained, should
keep personally aloof, his own sentiments of esteem remained unshaken;
and to find it by so open, and so prompt a testimony of respect and
regard, displayed before the very witnesses who had sought to destroy,
or invalidate, every impression that might be made in her favour, was a
relief the most exquisitely welcome to her disturbed and fearful mind.
Eager and rapid enquiries concerning her health, uttered with the ardour
of juvenile vivacity, succeeded this first address. The party standing
by, looked astonished, even abashed; while the face of Lady Aurora
recovered its wonted expression of sweet serenity.
Mrs Ireton, now, was seized with a desire the most violent, to repossess
a _protegee_ whose history and situation seemed daily to grow more
wonderful. With a courtesy, therefore, as foreign from her usual
manners, as from her real feelings, she said, 'Miss Ellis, I am sure,
will have the goodness to help me home with my two little companions? I
am sure of that. She could not be so unkind as to leave the poor little
things in the lurch?'
Indignant as Juliet had felt at the treatment which she had received,
resentment at this moment found no place in her mind; she was beginning,
therefore, a civil, however decided excuse; when Mrs Ireton, suspicious
of her purpose, flung herself languishingly upon a seat, and complained
that she was seized with such an immoderate pain in her side, that, if
somebody would not take care of the two _little souls_, she should
arrive at Brighthelmstone a corpse.
The Arramedes, Miss Brinville, and Selina, all declared that it was
impossible to refuse so essential a service to a health so delicate.
The fear, now, of a second public scene, with the dread lest Lord
Melbury might be excited to speak or act in her favour, forced the
judgment of Juliet to conquer her inclination, in leading her to defer
the so often given dismission till her return to Brighthelmstone; she
acceded, therefore, though with cruel unwillingness, to what was
required.
Mrs Ireton instantly recovered; and with the more alacrity, from
observing that Lady Barbara Frankland joined the group, at this moment
of victory.
'Take the trouble, then, if you please, Ma'am,' she replied, in her
usual tone of irony; 'if it will not be too great a condescension, take
the trouble to carry Bijou to the coach. And bid Simon keep him safe
while you come back,--if it is not asking quite too great a favour,--for
Mr Loddard. And pray bring my wrapping cloak with you, Ma'am. You'll be
so good, I hope, as to excuse all these liberties? I hope so, at least!
I flatter myself you'll excuse them. And, if the cloak should be heavy,
I dare say Simon will give you his arm. Simon is a man of gallantry, I
make no doubt. Not that I pretend to know; but I take it for granted he
is a man of gallantry.'
Juliet looked down, repentant to have placed herself, even for another
moment, in a power so merciless. Lord Melbury and Lady Aurora, each hurt
and indignant, advanced, uttering kind speeches: while Lady Barbara,
still younger and more unguarded, seizing the little dog, exclaimed 'No,
I'll carry Bijou myself, Mrs Ireton. Poor Miss Ellis looks so tired!
I'll take care of him all the way to Brighthelmstone myself. Dear,
pretty little creature!' Then, skipping behind Lady Aurora, 'Nasty
whelp!' she whispered, 'how I'll pinch him for being such a plague to
that sweet Miss Ellis! Perhaps that will mend him!'
The satisfaction of Lady Aurora at this trait glistened in her soft
eyes; while Lord Melbury, enchanted, caught the hand of the spirited
little lady, and pressed it to his lips; though, ashamed of his own
vivacity, he let it go before she had time to withdraw it. She coloured
deeply, but visibly with no unpleasant sensation; and, grasping the
little dog, hid her blushes, by uttering a precipitate farewell upon the
bosom of Lady Aurora; who smilingly, though tenderly, kissed her
forehead.
An idea that teemed with joy and happiness rose high in the breast of
Juliet, as she looked from Lord Melbury to Lady Barbara. Ah! there,
indeed, she thought, felicity might find a residence! there, in the rare
union of equal worth, equal attractions, sympathising feelings, and
similar condition!
'And I, too,' cried Lord Melbury, 'must have the honour to make myself
of some use; if Mrs Ireton, therefore, will trust Mr Loddard to my care,
I will convey him safely to Brighthelmstone, and overtake my sister in
the evening. And by this means we shall lighten the fatigue of Mrs
Ireton, without increasing that of Miss Ellis.'
He then took the little boy in his arms; playfully dancing him before
the little dog in those of Lady Barbara.
The heart of Juliet panted to give utterance to the warm
acknowledgements with which it was fondly beating; but mingled fear and
discretion forced her to silence.
All the evil tendencies of malice, envy, and ill will, pent up in the
breast of Mrs Ireton, now struggled irresistibly for vent; yet to insist
that Juliet should take change of Mr Loddard, for whom Lord Melbury had
offered his services; or even to force upon her the care of the little
dog, since Lady Barbara had proposed carrying him herself, appeared no
longer to exhibit dependency: Mrs Ireton, therefore, found it expedient
to be again taken ill; and, after a little fretful moaning, 'I feel
quite shaken,' she cried, 'quite in a tremour. My feet are absolutely
numbed. Do get me my furred clogs, Miss Ellis; if I may venture to ask
such a favour. I would not be troublesome, but you will probably find
them in the carriage. Though perhaps I have left them in the hall. You
will have the condescension to help the coachman and Simon to make a
search. And then pray run back, if it won't fatigue you too much, and
tie them on for me.'
If Juliet now coloured, at least it was not singly; the cheeks of Lady
Aurora, of Lady Barbara, and of Lord Melbury were equally crimsoned.
'Let me, Mrs Ireton,' eagerly cried Lord Melbury 'have the honour to be
Miss Ellis's deputy.'
'No, my lord,' said Juliet, with spirit: 'grateful and proud as I should
feel to be honoured with your lordship's assistance, it must not be in a
business that does not belong to me. I will deliver the orders to Simon.
And as Mrs Ireton is now relieved from her anxiety concerning Mr
Loddard, I beg permission, once more, and finally, to take my leave.'
Gravely then courtsying to Mrs Ireton, and bowing her head with an
expression of the most touching sensibility to her three young
supporters, she quitted the gallery.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Wanderer (Volume 3 of 5), by Fanny Burney