Lady Ennismore's illness was long in its continuance and severe in
its effects. Mrs. Spottiswoode watched over her with unceasing and
affecting attention; and it was often painful to witness her agonized
fears, lest her friend should sink beneath the combined attacks of
mental and bodily suffering. It was sad to look upon a creature so
changed as Julia, and hear her touching exclamations under the effects
of almost constant delirium. It was heart-rending to hear her call upon
Lady Ennismore with passionate entreaties, demanding admittance to her
lord, and imploring her to save her from Neville--it was still more
touching to hear her imprecate sorrow upon the head of those who could
lure a desolate wife to her destruction.
The sight of Dr. Darwin terrified the invalid for many days. She
addressed him as Colonel Neville, and her wandering fancy conceived
that Colonel Neville was seeking an interview. She waved him from the
room with an impetuous movement, and implored him to leave an unhappy
wife in peace. She said he knew she loved him--he knew she loved the
friend who was kind to her when all others had deserted her, but she
commanded him to fly from her!--she was the wife of Lord Ennismore, and
no power on earth should induce her to listen to him. "If her father
was alive to protect her," she said, "he would shelter her from woe and
treachery--but all were gone who ever loved her, and she would go to
her long lost friend Penelope."
It was evident Lady Ennismore had flown from Bedinfield to escape
from her own heart, as she avowed to Mrs. Spottiswoode. It was
evident, also, that the Dowager-countess had acted an unholy part by
her daughter, in throwing her constantly into the society of Colonel
Neville, and barring her entrance into the apartments of her sickly
and weak-minded husband. Such cruelty towards an innocent and trusting
creature affected the heart of Mrs. Spottiswoode almost to illness: her
mind dwelt long and strongly upon the distress of heart, which must
have been endured by her friend before she could have fled from her
husband's house; and Mr. Spottiswoode became alarmed lest his wife's
health should fall a sacrifice to her devoted attachment to the friend
of her early days.
In this time of severe trial to all parties, Sir John Spottiswoode
acted with the kindest consideration; and he undertook to meet Sir John
Wetheral upon his arrival, and break to him the mournful intelligence
of Lady Ennismore's situation. Before his arrival, however, her
ladyship had regained her consciousness of all that was passing
round her, and the parched fever, which consumed her animal powers,
yielded to the judicious treatment of her medical adviser. Julia
again recognized her friend, and again received pleasure in feeling
herself watched over and protected by those she loved. Her weakness was
excessive, and her mind still dwelt upon the sorrow which oppressed
her; but it was no longer accompanied by that fearful aberration of
intellect, which wasted her strength, and tore the hearts of those who
witnessed its effects. Mrs. Spottiswoode passed her waking hours at
her friend's side, for it was a cordial to Julia's spirit to see her
near, and to know Penelope was watching over her; but Christobelle was
deputed to guard her short and uneasy slumbers. It was a period of
deep and trembling anxiety.
Sir John Wetheral's cares were crowding upon him. He had been destined
for some years to witness the shattered nerves and depressed spirits
of his lady, and he was now called upon to witness the sufferings of
Julia, and to support her through the difficulties of her situation. It
was a severe trial to his feelings; but he met the intelligence with
fortitude. His unworldly actions caused no self-reproach, and he had
never sacrificed his sense of right to the idols of a vain imagination,
therefore his regrets, however bitter, were untinged by the gloomy
reflection that his own hand had barbed the arrow which struck his
heart.
Not so Lady Wetheral. The intelligence of Julia's flight to Lidham
prostrated her to the earth, and bowed down all her hopes. She confined
herself to her own room, and talked incessantly to Mrs. Bevan of the
misery which overpowered her. "She had done such things for Clara and
Julia!--she had formed, and prosecuted, and brought into effect, plans
for their advancement, which should have raised them far above their
companions; yet they were dashed to the ground, after such anxieties
and fears! The daughters whom she peculiarly considered under her own
rule had proved themselves unequal to enjoy the exalted situations she
had marked out for them; and Bell, a perfect child, fostered among the
wild hills of Lochleven, had presumed to refuse a dukedom, in order to
follow her mean affections, and content herself with a small estate
in Worcestershire! What was Julia, now? A truant wife--a woman, so
lost to propriety, that her future position in people's minds must be
equivocal--a creature who would in future be gazed upon as a deserter
from Bedinfield. Such was the fate of those who created scenes!--a
world's wonder, and a thing of nought!" A period of silence would
ensue, subsequent to each irritable complaint; and Lady Wetheral would
sink into deep fits of despondency, followed by sudden reaction, which
threatened to undermine her constitution.
When Julia became sufficiently calm to bear the sight of a third person
without alarm, Christobelle was silently admitted to her presence, and
was recognized immediately with a joy which gave unfeigned satisfaction
to Mrs. Spottiswoode. It seemed as if Lady Ennismore's spirit was
not dead to emotions which must eventually lure her thoughts from
melancholy images, and reconcile her to life. Lady Ennismore fixed
her eyes upon her sister with a momentary expression of delight, which
gradually changed into sadness, and the tears stole down her cheeks.
She pressed her hand to her heart. "Chrystal," she said, "when I saw
you last, I was not as I am now!"
Mrs. Spottiswoode embraced her, and bade her think of happier times.
Julia looked at her with eyes swimming in tears.
"Penelope, it soothes me to talk of the past, for my sorrow has
been confined too painfully to my own bosom. Let me tell Chrystal
how useless were the aids of grandeur and gratified ambition to
give comfort to a breaking heart. It may make her less careful
of the follies of worldly gifts--less ambitious than I was. Yet,
I loved him; I loved Ennismore, once; but what heart will love
through coldness--through indifference, and separation? Who can
love, when kindly affections are thrown aside, or made the sport of
unfeeling ridicule? Chrystal, marry not, unless you are sure you are
valued--unless you love a man for the goodness of his nature, and not
for his earthly possessions."
Christobelle bent forward, and pressed her lips upon Julia's hand, as
it lay upon her own. She could not speak.
"If they tell you, Chrystal, that life has no blessings beyond high
station and the luxuries of wealth, look at me, and believe them not.
It is false to say so. My father told me it was false, and I did not
heed him. I smiled at his anxiety, and thought him prejudiced. Where is
my father?--Where is my dear father? Is he alive, Penelope? Oh, do not
say that good father is gone, who mourned so, after my hapless choice
was made--who looked so calm and so sad at Bedinfield!"
Christobelle assured her every member of the family still lived, and
then she repeated to her the message which her father had charged her
to deliver when Julia's returning reason could bear its import. It was
a message of kindness: they were words of indulgent goodness, for none
other ever passed _his_ lips. "Tell my poor Julia," he said, "that her
father's eyes long to behold her, and his arms are open to embrace her,
when she can bear the meeting. There is a home at Wetheral, to shelter
her; and his fond affections are anxious to make her forget she ever
left its protection." Julia wept abundantly.
"Yes, we resist advice, and defy the truths which tell us how weak
and insufficient we are to reason upon things which concern our peace
hereafter. I believed my mother-in-law was all truth--all sincerity.
I felt for Lord Ennismore's ailments. I did not know how deeply those
ailments affect the temper and weaken the mind. I was ambitious--I was
resolved to soar: and see, Chrystal, how I have fallen! Thank Heaven,
I am guiltless!--thank Heaven, I can return to my father's house,
untainted by crime! I shall never more be happy, but I can demand
respect, and bow submissively to a just punishment for my sordid views.
I fancied I could command all, as the wife of Ennismore! but I came
to Penelope's house--a poor, solitary, wretched wife--a fugitive from
Bedinfield--flying, above all, from myself. Oh, my friend, my dear
Penelope, save me from myself!"
"Fear not," replied Mrs. Spottiswoode, kneeling by her bed-side, and
clasping Julia's hands in her own, "fear not, my companion and friend!
I will be with you, and my counsel and affection shall support you.
Think no more of the past, but hope every thing from the future: forget
all that has occurred, and look around you, upon the friends of your
youth, all prepared to welcome and cherish you, dearest Julia."
"I wish I _could_ forget--I wish I could struggle, and burst the bonds
which destroy my tranquillity, Penelope! I wish I could wipe away
remembrances which will embitter my existence, and which have shortened
the days of my youth, and multiplied my sorrows--how I wish I _could_
forget!"
Mrs. Spottiswoode signed to Christobelle to withdraw, and she retired
into the dressing-room. Penelope continued kneeling, and embracing the
hands of her complaining friend.
"Julia, open your heart to your old favourite, and remember there was a
time when we never concealed a thought from each other's knowledge."
Julia gasped and trembled.
"Julia, your friend has guessed the struggles you have endured, and
your flight has increased her love and high respect, if it could allow
an increase. It is not every ill-used wife--it is not every desolate
heart--that could have flown from Neville." Julia's hands became cold
as marble in Mrs. Spottiswoode's grasp, and she turned her face from
her friend's gaze in terror.
"Julia," continued Mrs. Spottiswoode, "by every recollection of our
childhood passed together--by the tenderness which ever existed
between us, and by our attachment, which has survived absence and
silence, open your heart to your poor Penelope! It is only known to
Chrystal and myself, that your temptations have been severe, and your
virtue severer still. It is to our bosoms alone that your confessions
have been made, Julia; and we love, with a deeper feeling of esteem,
the virtues we could not emulate under the same trial. Do not speak in
humility to _us_--do not fear to boast of the victory over your own
heart!"
"Have I then been delirious, Penelope? Have I spoken of him in
bitterness? Have I said any thing of Ennismore in anger? I have no
anger towards him. He was but weak and devoted to his mother. My father
cautioned me! I have no excuse, Penelope. How anxiously my father
cautioned me, and how stupidly I rejected the caution!"
"You were young, Julia; you could not suspect an artful and
cold-hearted woman!"
"So we say, when a parent's anxiety has been scoffed at, and we are
crushed by a dreadful experience. I knew my father's indulgence--I knew
his fears for my happiness--yet I turned to listen to the dictates of a
wretched ambition. Oh, my mother, my mother, _you_ sacrificed me!"
Julia sank upon the pillow from which she had risen with a strong
effort, and continued, in faltering accents--"Penelope, did I mention
another name? If I did, have mercy on me, and forbear to judge your
friend! You do not know how I have striven to do right!"
"I do know it, my beloved, I do know it--" exclaimed Mrs. Spottiswoode,
"and I guessed it, before your overcharged heart declared it in
delirium. I, your friend, know it; and may those who have shadowed your
days with evil, drink deep of the cup they prepared for you, Julia!"
"Oh, my mother, my mother!" cried Julia, "how could you guide me into
misery! How could I think you were preparing sorrow for the child who
loved and believed in your words!"
Mrs. Spottiswoode wept over the friend who lay prostrate, in body and
mind, before her. Julia essayed to rise, but her exhaustion was too
great; she could only press the hand of her faithful friend.
"Penelope, as you love me, never name even to myself the horrible
secret of my soul. Let it be for ever forgotten between us, and
strengthen me by your wise counsel and friendship, my own blessed
companion of once happy days!"
"Rest, rest, Julia," said Mrs. Spottiswoode, "and do not exert your
failing strength. I understand you. We will in future only speak of
calm days, and look forward to the sober pleasures of friendship. Among
your friends, the friends of your youth, Julia, there will be peace."
Lady Ennismore shook her head, and the tears which trickled through her
closed eyelids evinced her hopelessness of future tranquillity, but she
remained silent. Mrs. Spottiswoode kissed her pale cheek.
"Exert yourself no more, dearest Julia. I know all that is passing in
your heart, and its struggles for oblivion upon the past. Weep not,
my ill-used friend--my heart shall comfort you, and my love shall
heal the wounds of betrayed affection. You do not know the hearts
which are rallying round you, and are only waiting your convalescence
to declare themselves your sympathising and devoted friends. Be at
rest, my dearest Julia--I fear for the consequences of this weakening
conversation. Try to be composed and sleep, to quiet your poor friend's
alarms."
But the conversation had not weakened Lady Ennismore. Her spirit was
lightened by the knowledge that her secret was discovered, and that her
friend still loved and honoured her with unabated affection. It was a
relief to her heart, to feel assured that her friend did not judge her
severely; but that, with true friendship, she had poured balm upon her
broken hopes, and sympathised in her sufferings. The load of care which
pressed upon her mind and strength was cast upon the confiding friend
of her youth, whose consolations soothed and tranquillized the sorrow
which had consumed her. The husband, for whom she had quitted her home
and friends, had caused many miseries; but the hand of friendship had
supported her. What woe is not assuaged by that gentle and cheering
consolation!--that gift accorded by Providence to soften the ills of a
patient and submissive spirit!
Lady Ennismore wept silently for some time, but she did not weep with
the bitterness which destroys rest. Doubtless, her tears fell with
mingled feelings of joy and grief; doubtless, her heart was filled with
grateful thanks, that her destiny was yet cheered by the consolations
of tender and affectionate friends; doubtless, she wept to feel the
tears of Penelope upon her cheek; that Penelope Wycherly, whom _she_
had befriended in her hour of affliction, and who had shared with her
the joys and fears of childhood. No wonder Lady Ennismore wept! though
her emotion ceased to be of that distressing nature which gave her
friends so much pain to witness. It was weeping which relieved her
heart, and produced favourable results; for she became gradually more
tranquil, and her pale thin hand relaxing in its grasp, gave happy
assurance to Mrs. Spottiswoode that her unhappy friend slumbered.
When Dr. Darwin called again at Lidham, Lady Ennismore still slept
and lay composed. From that moment Julia's most distressing symptoms
disappeared, but she suffered from a languor which was oppressive;
a languor which pervaded mind and body to such a powerful degree,
that she scarcely seemed to exist. It had one excellent result. Lady
Ennismore ceased to suffer pain: it was a state apparently of perfect
torpor, caused by intense distress, and its tranquillity must be to her
enjoyment. She ceased to feel the extent of her misery.
Sir John Wetheral's visits to Lidham were of daily occurrence; he
longed to clasp his poor fugitive to his heart; but Lady Ennismore's
present situation required care, and all agitating interviews were
prohibited. It was only when the torpor which had seized upon her
became alarming by its continuance, that her father's presence was
advised, to try its effect upon her mind. If that interview did not
awaken her powers, it was feared that nothing henceforth would rouse
her from the stillness of death, till she forgot for ever the cares
which had disturbed her short pilgrimage. Mrs. Spottiswoode urged the
interview with anxious hope: she knew Julia's strong affections, and
she felt firmly convinced that if any earthly object _could_ rouse her,
it would be the sight of her indulgent parent. Sir John Wetheral was
accordingly summoned to appear unexpectedly before Lady Ennismore.
Julia was seated in her arm-chair, with her eyes fixed on the ground,
when Christobelle entered her chamber in the evening; but, as usual,
no sign of recognition took place. Miss Wetheral advanced towards her
sister, and offered her arm. "Julia, let us take one turn round the
room."
Lady Ennismore rose without speaking, and mechanically took the arm of
Christobelle, but she did not raise her eyes. Miss Wetheral spoke again.
"Julia, look there!"
Lady Ennismore's eye slowly followed the direction of her sister's
hand, which pointed towards the door. A scream burst from her lips, as
she beheld her father standing before her, and she flew into his arms.
The sight of her father _did_ rouse every recollection!
It is needless to dwell upon a scene so fraught with distress, or to
describe the affecting interview. It would be painful to repeat Lady
Ennismore's self-upbraidings, or to recount her father's soothing,
and most parental words of comfort. He welcomed his Julia to his
heart and home, with endearments which went deep into her grateful
heart, and spoke peace to her broken spirit. It was a scene which Mrs.
Spottiswoode and Christobelle never forgot. The tears they shed that
evening bore testimony to their deep emotion.
When Sir John Wetheral and his daughter became more tranquil, Mrs.
Spottiswoode would have terminated the interview, but Julia clung
to her father's arm, and would not be separated from him. She would
now, she said, open her heart to those so dear to her, that the work
of a long absence might be confided to her parent's breast, and he
should judge if her flight was rashly done. Mrs. Spottiswoode feared a
relapse; but Julia would not hear of rest. "Let me speak now, Penelope,
while my spirit is equal to the task. I may be ill, but my story must
be told; my father must be told; it will be a relief to know I need
recur to the past no more. Let me speak _now_, Penelope."
Lady Ennismore recapitulated the events which had taken place since her
father's visit to Bedinfield, and described her distress at finding
he had departed without bidding her farewell. "Her mother-in-law had
assured her so calmly that they _would_ depart, and declined remaining
another day to ascertain my lord's sudden attack, that she could not
disbelieve the assertion, and the thought had given her severe pain.
Profound silence, too, rested upon the transactions at Wetheral; not
once had she received a letter from the home which professed to love
her so tenderly. Not once did they acknowledge the numberless letters
she had written, to entreat their consideration, and to implore them to
answer her anxieties.
"After her father's departure from Bedinfield, as she thought, so
coldly, so unkindly! her heart sank, and she became gloomy. Her lord
received her as a stranger into his apartments during an illness of
long continuance, while the Dowager remained stationed by his side,
and her spirits could not endure the insulting banishment. She prayed
to visit her home, to see again her friend Miss Wycherly, to ask the
reason of their silence, and demand their withdrawn affection. Her
request was refused; but it was done so gently, so persuasively by her
mother-in-law, that she could only weep while she acquiesced in their
wishes to remain at Bedinfield.
"She began to fear Lord Ennismore did not love her; she began to
suspect the politeness of his mother, whose manners had so long blinded
her reason by their soft fascinations, but who had never, in a single
instance, yielded to her wishes, or considered her rights as the
real mistress of Bedinfield. That unchangingly-polite and flattering
suavity had proved the firmest bar to her happiness; for it had left
her without the power of complaint, while her heart was wrung with
disappointed feelings. They had carried her almost broken-hearted to
Florence."
Julia stopped; deep sighs burst from her bosom, and her head fell
upon the shoulder of Mrs. Spottiswoode: her father became powerfully
agitated; and Christobelle wept, without the power of controlling her
tears. Lady Ennismore proceeded:--
"At Florence, a complete separation was silently effected between Lord
Ennismore and herself. His lordship confined himself entirely to his
suite of apartments, and months often elapsed without an interview.
Sometimes he accompanied them into public, but he would retire
complaining from the exertion; and, though her own spirits demanded
retirement, and even solitude, his lordship's commands were imperative
upon her to appear with his mother at all the diversions where English
families attended.
"She became at length a mere machine in the hands of the Dowager
Countess. Without one friend to consult--absent from her nearest
relations--unable to speak the language of the country--melancholy and
careless of existence, she followed her mother-in-law into society
without enjoyment, and retired from it without satisfaction. Her days
became a blank, and she passed hours in silent weeping. At length
an Englishman was introduced to her by the Dowager, who pitied her
situation, and sought to amuse her heavy hours with news of her native
land. He told her he had seen her sister Clara's marriage with Sir
Foster Kerrison in the papers, and he had also seen the mention of
her death. By this statement alone she knew that Clara was no more.
No letter from England announced it, no intimation from her family
informed her of a sister's loss. She stood alone in the midst of her
greatness. There were none to do her a kindness, or to offer her the
consolation which was tendered to the humblest individual; none save
that Englishman spoke to her of home; none save him came forth from the
crowd, to speak of her country and her friends."
Julia's emotion increased, and she was nearly fainting, but she waved
away all assistance. "Let me say what I have to communicate, my dear
friends, and then I will be silent for ever on all that is past. Ah!
my dear papa, you told me I was signing your misery, when I would not
listen to your words. You told me you would rather follow my silent
remains to the grave than see me the wife of Ennismore. Would to Heaven
I _had_ died! I should now be at rest."
Sir John Wetheral pressed his unhappy daughter to his bosom, and
promised her rest under his own protection, and in the society of
her friends. He wished her to defer her hapless story till time had
somewhat recruited her strength; she was too weak to proceed in
detailing miseries which must distress and exhaust her powers. He
entreated her, for his sake and her own, to recur no more to the past.
"Let me proceed," cried Lady Ennismore, "and judge me not hardly; judge
me as Penelope judged me, kindly and graciously. I saw little of my
husband--never, in private. Lady Ennismore could have effected any
thing with her son, but she smiled at my repinings, and did not comfort
me. She urged me to be gay, to shake off gloomy thoughts in wild
amusement, and smile as others smiled. She sought Colonel Neville's
society, and domesticated him in our palace. Wherever we went, he went
also; and our home was the home of Neville."
Lady Ennismore sunk upon her knees before her father, and clasped his
hands.
"As I live to breathe again my native air, and see the forms I love,
I do believe she wished me to become the prey of evil passions, and
fall a victim to her arts! I do believe she trusted I might be thrust
for ever from her sight, and become the vile thing which would banish
me eternally from a husband's presence. But I was enabled to withstand
temptation. I prayed for strength to endure my destiny: and, when I
dared not confide in my own efforts--when my heart was distracted, and
my principles tottered, then I knew I should find help at Lidham; for
Penelope told me, in sickness or in sorrow, her home should be my home;
and I have flown to her for safety."
Poor suffering Julia! How she trembled as her father raised her from
her suppliant attitude, and called her his long-suffering, virtuous
child! How gratefully she raised her eyes in silent prayer, when her
father gloried in her principles, and said he loved her with a parent's
deepest affection and pride, for the danger she had so religiously
withstood. Yes, he blessed her for the firmness she had evinced, for
the virtuous conduct which had not deserted her, and for the prayerful
spirit which had led her to seek refuge in her God, instead of throwing
herself into the arms of man. How did a father's blessing soothe the
lacerated heart of the ill-used Julia!
From the hour of her confession, Lady Ennismore became more tranquil;
and, though her constitution had received a powerful shock, it was
hoped that time would bring back some portion of her once excellent
health. Sir John Wetheral resolved to escort his daughters to their
home as soon as Lady Ennismore could endure a removal; and, under
the shelter of the parental roof, Julia would feel protected from
the sorrows which had darkened her married life. There she would be
surrounded by her friends, and in its sanctuary she would feel no
more the slights and insults which had pressed so heavily upon her
affectionate heart. Mrs. Spottiswoode's near neighbourhood, and the
friendship which had formed so conspicuous a part of her character,
would throw a halo of consolation round the futurity of Julia; and when
her father and her friends congregated round her, the breath of public
opinion dared not whisper a thought injurious to her honour.
As Lady Ennismore slowly recovered the tone of her mind, her anxiety
to hear of her family increased, and she was gradually informed of the
changes which had taken place. Her ladyship had greatly wondered at
Lady Wetheral's absence from her room, and she mourned sincerely to
hear her mother's shattered health kept her closely confined at the
castle. Clara's death was also detailed to her, and Lady Ennismore wept
to hear that her sister had striven with evil days. She dwelt with
constant and painful interest upon her short career.
It seemed that Clara and herself had been doomed to woe; and, though
she smiled to think of Isabel's happiness, and loved to hear of the
contentment of Hatton, her ladyship's thoughts flew back to the direful
scenes at Ripley, and sorrowed for the early death of Lady Kerrison.
The remembrance of Clara drew Julia's contemplations from her own
exclusive situation; and her tears would flow, to think of the sister
whose temper could not brook the calls upon its patience. How different
had been their fate, yet how alike in misery! She herself had borne
daily and hourly provocations with unfailing submission, while Clara
had spurned to tax her patience under trials, and died beneath her
roused disgusts. Both had suffered--both had fallen; but Clara had
burst the bonds which fettered her happiness, and she was resting in
her early grave; while _she_ was doomed to exist a widowed wife, and
struggle under contumely!
When Lady Ennismore heard of Christobelle's engagement, she threw her
arms around her youthful sister, and pressed her to her bosom, but she
could not wish her joy.
"Chrystal," she said, with a look of sadness, "I can wish no one joy
when they quit their home, for I was congratulated by all my friends,
yet my portion was the cup of bitterness! I know Sir John Spottiswoode
is worthy--at least, it is reported so--but it is all uncertainty.
When we quit our father's house, we know not what we do!"
"But I am not marrying for wealth or title, Julia; I am engaged to a
man whose claims to my affection is his worth and excellence!"
Christobelle stood in distress at her inadvertent speech; for worlds
she would not have bruised a broken reed; for worlds she would not
wound the heart of her suffering sister. But Lady Ennismore was too
high-minded to believe a blow was aimed at her own conduct.
"It is true, Chrystal, you say it truly. You _have_ chosen a good
and kind-hearted man, and your fate will not be like mine. I _can_,
therefore, wish you joy. May you know only indulgence, and be as Isabel
and Anna Maria are! I can wish you no higher felicity. But I have
caused much trouble, for you have devoted your time to a poor creature
who feels deeply the kindness of her friends, and who grieves to
separate the happy. Where is Sir John Spottiswoode?"
Sir John Spottiswoode was at Alverton. He devoted the period of
Christobelle's constant attendance upon Lady Ennismore, to the
arrangement of his affairs in Worcestershire; and when Julia's health
released her sister from the cares of a sick room, Christobelle was to
recal him. Miss Wetheral was easier also when she knew her lover was
not near her. She could give undivided attention to her poor Julia,
when she did not hear his step lingering in the gallery, or distinguish
his voice under the windows, in conversation with his brother. On both
sides it was a relief to part at once, till they could meet in peace.
Their mutual comfort was destroyed by the knowledge that, though under
the same roof, they could only meet in short and hurried interviews;
and Christobelle rejoiced when her friend summoned resolution to visit
Alverton.
Charles Spottiswoode also departed with his brother for a short season,
and Lidham was the scene of perfect tranquillity during the distressing
illness of Lady Ennismore. For the sake of Mr. Spottiswoode, who so
generously relinquished his lady's society to her unfortunate friend,
Sir John Wetheral hastened to withdraw with his daughters from Lidham,
and Lady Ennismore sighed to see again the home of her early happiness,
and to find repose in the once gay halls of Wetheral. Christobelle was,
therefore, deputed to recal Sir John Spottiswoode, and she was charged
also to summon him to Wetheral Castle. Ere he could arrive, Julia would
be re-established in her father's house, and the painful events which
had taken place would, it was hoped, become softened by time, and the
society of her early friends.
Lady Ennismore could not be expected to forget that "such things were;"
but there was blessedness in feeling that her youthful error had not
been accompanied by guilt, and that her sorrows could not be past hope,
since she was free from self-reproach. She had endeavoured to perform
the duties of a wife--she had keenly felt the influence which separated
her from her husband's love--and every art had failed to render her
faithless to her vows. In all these reflections there was consolation,
and Julia's reward was in the love and esteem of her numerous and
attached friends.
Sir John Wetheral wrote a calm and powerful appeal to the heart
of the feeble-minded Lord Ennismore. He spoke of "his daughter's
sufferings--her forbearance--and her return to the protection denied
by her husband. He informed him of his resolution to protect that
daughter whose fame must suffer by his barbarous treatment; and never
more would he allow her to return to the man who had so deeply injured
her feelings, and her spotless reputation. He begged to say all future
intercourse must end for ever between the families of Ennismore and
Wetheral."
In due time a note was received, in the handwriting of the
Dowager-countess, bearing these concise sentences:--
"The Dowager-countess of Ennismore regrets that the increased disorder
of her son, Lord Ennismore, must compel her to become his amanuensis.
The flight of Lady Ennismore is best known to herself; and the flight
of Colonel Neville, at the same period, is also best understood by her
ladyship. Lord Ennismore is content to remain deserted by his lady,
and his mother will endeavour to supply her place by devoted attention
to his offended and outraged feelings. Lady Ennismore is happy, if
not respectable, in being upheld by her friends. The families of
Bedinfield and Wetheral will meet no more."
This note was dated from Florence, and its contents were withheld from
Julia. It would have caused the wounds of her heart to bleed afresh. It
was better for her peace of mind, to remain in ignorance of Neville's
flight, and to be unconscious of the remark which pointed at her fame.
Julia declined seeing even Mrs. Pynsent, till her nerves had recovered
their tone by long quiet, and till she had seen her mother. It would be
a painful meeting with Anna Maria, because their last interview was at
the altar, and that event had sealed their lives to prospects strangely
opposed to each other. Anna Maria had given her vows to the man whom
Julia rejected, and her lot was cast in a goodly heritage. She was a
happy wife--a happy mother--and her children were growing up round her,
under happy auspices: but Julia had returned home, to be protected
from those who had vowed to love and honour her. It would be a very
overpowering and painful meeting; it would force recollections upon her
mind, fatal to her tranquillity; and the first sight of Anna Maria's
happy face would, for some time, overthrow the placidity which she had
acquired under the gentle soothings and support of Mrs. Spottiswoode.
Julia contemplated the meeting with alarm, and in tears.
Mrs. Spottiswoode accompanied Sir John Wetheral and Christobelle, as
they escorted Lady Ennismore to the home of her singlehood. Julia did
not speak during the little journey; but her eyes filled with tears,
as they rested on each well-known object in her route. Her emotion
was excessive as the carriage entered the Lodges of Wetheral, and the
avenue produced a thousand reminiscences of the past, which occasioned
a strong hysteric. But there were those near her who tempered the blow
to the sufferer, and softened her regrets by kind commiseration. Her
father's voice alone appeared to fail in bringing calm to her heart.
"Let me not hear that voice!" she exclaimed, "for it brings to my
mind how mournfully it implored me to avoid repentance! Every thing
I see remains unchanged; it is only Clara and myself who were doomed
to sink into death and wretchedness! My mother--cruel mother!--it is
all my mother!" Oppressed with grief, Julia sank into silence, and she
suffered herself to be carried into the rooms which once constituted
the sleeping apartments and dressing-room of herself and Anna Maria.
Julia placed her hand upon her heart, but she did not give utterance
to her thoughts, as she glanced round upon well-remembered furniture,
and fixed her eyes upon the large mirror which had reflected her gay
appearance upon her bridal-morn. Mrs. Spottiswoode, her bridesmaid,
stood by her; and her father held her hand, as he had affectionately
held it when she kneeled to receive his blessing as Julia Ennismore.
This powerful picture of the past affected her heart. She threw herself
at her father's feet.
"Forgive me!--forgive my obstinate presumption, papa! I feel how
truly you spoke! how blindly I followed my own judgment! This is a
bitter stroke to me! All are here who did not advocate my ambitious
choice!--but where are they who told me I should be greatly envied?
Where is my mother, who prophecied worldly happiness, and told me I was
right to persevere? Who assured me of bright realities, and years of
happy freedom?"
Julia rose from her kneeling attitude, and the expression of her eyes
was fearfully wild, as she held out her hands to her father.
"Why did she tell me my father loved lowly things, and could not
comprehend a woman's heart? Why did she tell me Ennismore was easily
influenced, and that a wife's word would supersede a mother's
management? Has it been so? Have I not suffered scorn, and ridicule,
and banishment, in silence? Have I not endured a thousand regrets--a
thousand struggles--a thousand insults?"
Julia paused as her eye again wandered over the mirror, and she saw
the reflection of her own wasted figure and pale countenance. For one
moment her whole attention was engrossed by the change which had taken
place in her person. She gazed at her thin form, and raised her hands
to examine the wasted fingers which had lost their once plump roundness
and extreme beauty. She then fled from the apartment.