Lady Ennismore and Julia were already in the breakfast-room, when
Christobelle and her father descended the following morning. Lord
Ennismore was seated with a decanter of water on the table before
him; and he had sundry bottles stationed round it, from which he
weighed certain powders, and immersed the whole in a goblet of water.
His lordship was too occupied to rise upon their entrance, but he
apologised for the apparent want of gallantry.
"Excuse me, Sir John Wetheral, and also I entreat your pardon, Miss
Wetheral, for my sitting posture; but I am, at this moment, preparing
my morning draught. I shall, however, have much pleasure in drinking
your health, when the preparation is completed."
"I will stand proxy to your words, my dear Augustus," said the
Countess; "I am anxious about the given quantities of the powders,
and entreat you to be careful in examining the measures. Three grains,
I know, is the proper quantity. Three grains of each. My dear Miss
Wetheral, I hope you slept well. Sir John, I am going to carry you with
me per force, round the park. Three grains only, my dear son."
"Thank you, my dear mother; I am very accurate: I have just concluded
my dose."
Lord Ennismore stood up with an air, which he intended should be
picturesque and gallant. His lordship held the goblet in one hand,
and a tea-spoon in the other, as he bowed low to Christobelle and her
father.
"I have the honour to drink to your welfare, as also to express our
pleasure at your conferring upon us the honour of your company." His
lordship then stirred the liquid into a state of effervescence, and
drank the contents of the goblet. Julia extended her hand to receive
the empty goblet, but the Countess prevented the action.
"No, my dear Julia, I will receive it from my son. I know you are not
fond of powders and effervescing draughts; young people seldom like
them. Let me take the glass from your husband." Her ladyship perceived
the goblet was not quite relieved of its contents. "My dear Augustus,
I am not easy. I wish I possessed the calmness of Julia, but I never
_shall_ be so self-possessed; I am always in little alarms about you.
You have left a wine-glassful in this goblet, and you will not feel its
beneficial effects."
Lord Ennismore's satisfaction was observable at the care expressed
by his mother's remarks. Julia was totally ignorant of any concealed
purpose lurking in her ladyship's alarm. She only smiled at her
mother's perfectly unwarranted fears, and playfully jested at their
unfounded use. The Countess patted Julia's cheek.
"My dear love, you cannot know a mother's agonising, though, perhaps,
foolish fears. A young wife is not aware of the nature of unpleasing
symptoms, such as I fear I see arising in my son's system. Sir John, I
think we may assert it as a fact, that a parent's anxiety is even more
keenly acute than a wife's alarm."
Sir John did not agree with her ladyship. He thought parental pangs
must be to every heart a bitter trial; but a wife's welfare, or a
husband's health, must be a paramount interest. To his idea, a mother's
affection must bow to that of a wife.
"You think so, Sir John?" The Countess smiled bewitchingly upon her
son. "I believe I did my duty to my lord; I think I devoted myself to
his wishes; but I surely feel a more intense love for my son. Perhaps,"
continued the Countess, sighing, "perhaps his very delicate health
interested my feelings too powerfully for my repose."
"I am, and must be," said his lordship, in most sententious tones,
"extremely fortunate in possessing a relation so interested in my
well-doing. I am sure my excellent wife feels for me a proper and
lively affection; but, as the Countess-dowager remarks, there is
want of reflection in the young, which only the more aged gain by
experience."
"My dear lord," exclaimed Julia, with gentle earnestness, "I should be
the only proper attendant; and I should be a most willing one, too; if
you would allow me to mix your medicines--but Lady Ennismore has so
frequently assured me...."
"Come, come, my sweet Julia, away with self-upbraidings, or upbraiding
of any nature! I bear witness to your worth and kindness; let us
proceed to despatch our breakfast, that I may claim Sir John's
company." The Countess allowed no pause in the conversation to enable
Julia to continue her observation.
"Sir John, I look forward to great commendations on your part. My son's
taste is admirably set forth in the new drive, which comprehends a
circuit of three miles. My dear Miss Wetheral, you have a fine lady's
appetite: surely Bedinfield will effect a change. I am sure my Julia
will enjoy an hour or two of chat with you, my young friend, while we
are absent. A little chat upon Wetheral topics. Julia talks with so
much fervour of her friends in Shropshire!"
"I wish they would all think of me with equal interest, and become
better correspondents," observed Julia, energetically.
"Talking of correspondence," said the Countess, addressing Sir
John, "how few of our earliest friends ever continue to keep up the
delightful intercourse of extreme youth. So many new objects, so many
new perceptions! We rarely can long persevere in the course of our
early career."
"My daughter's friend makes the same remark. Miss Wycherly complains of
Julia's silence," observed Sir John.
"I have written frequently, papa," cried Julia, her whole figure
becoming animated with the subject. "I have even invited Penelope to
Bedinfield, without receiving an acceptation or denial. What can my
friend plead in extenuation of her neglect? I did expect to be summoned
to her marriage. I promised to attend her summons."
"You did not inform me of this arrangement, Julia," remarked the
Countess; "I was not aware of the intended pleasure of another visit
into Shropshire."
"I did not answer for _you_, dear mother. I was not aware at that time
of your intention to reside at Bedinfield. I only assured Penelope,
Lord Ennismore, and myself, would swell her train."
"You have changed your resolution, of course," said the Countess, in a
dry tone of voice.
"No, indeed: I should like to surprise Penelope. Papa, we will return
with you to Wetheral, if my lord has no objection."
"No plan can give me greater pleasure, my love. Let us return together,
if you please. If your ladyship will add your society, Wetheral will be
proud to receive you. Lady Wetheral will rejoice to see you."
"Oh! let us all return with papa," exclaimed Julia, turning to her
lord with eagerness; "let us all return with papa to dear Wetheral!"
"I am sensible of Sir John's politeness," returned his lordship, "more
particularly as change of air is beneficial to every constitution. I
shall with pleasure revisit Wetheral, if the Countess-dowager has no
engagements to prevent her quitting Bedinfield."
"My dear mother, you are not engaged? You will accompany us, won't
you?" said Julia, affectionately and eagerly.
"I am grieved that it is out of my power to accept Sir John's polite
invitation," replied the Countess, with much suavity.
"Oh! I am so sorry! but, my lord, _you_ will take me to Wetheral;
_you_ will return with me into Shropshire," continued Julia, anxiously
watching the stolid face of her dull lord. "You have no engagement,
Augustus?"
"None whatever, my dear Lady Ennismore," was his lordship's reply; "but
if my mother cannot postpone her engagements, we had perhaps better
defer our visit."
"I have every hope," said Sir John, bowing politely to the Countess,
"I have every hope that Lady Ennismore will yet favour us with her
company. Perhaps, upon a little consideration, one or two engagements
may give way, to do us honour."
"I will consult with my son," replied the Countess, with her most
bewitching smile. "A visit to Wetheral must be a pleasure too agreeable
to relinquish, if we can postpone less agreeable engagements. I shall
not fail to draw upon my invention for excuses in _one_ quarter. My
dear Julia, I hope we shall accomplish a visit to Wetheral. I hope my
lord's health will continue: but I do not like his pallid complexion
this morning."
"Do I look unwell?" asked his lordship, in an anxious tone, "do I
appear changed to-day, my dear mother?"
"I don't approve of that pale cheek, my dear son. Julia, do you notice
a little hectic spot--a very small spot, just upon the cheek-bone?"
Julia looked at her lord's leaden face. "No, I do not discover a spot,
I cannot perceive a hectic spot--do you, papa?"
"My dearest Julia, is it possible you cannot distinguish a little
feverish appearance? I see it from this distance, with great
uneasiness."
"Now, papa, you shall judge between us. Do you see any appearance of
spot or fever upon my lord's cheek?"
Sir John put on his glasses with an air of grave solemnity. "Am I
constituted judge in this matter?"
"Oh, yes, papa, you shall declare the precise state of the matter,"
exclaimed Julia, laughingly.
"No one must judge for _me_. No one can judge for a mother's quick
eye," said the Countess, playfully, "but still in the multitude of
counsellors there is wisdom; therefore, I should wish to hear Sir
John's opinion."
Sir John Wetheral examined Lord Ennismore's cheek with great command of
countenance: there was no spot, or even the slightest tinge of colour;
all was colourless, still, and heavy: dull, dismal, and disagreeable.
"My good lord," he said, "I am pleased to join my daughter in her
happy fearlessness; and still better pleased to be able to soothe her
ladyship's apprehensions. I think there is nothing alarming in your
cheek. Rather pale, but I can perceive no hectic tendency."
Lord Ennismore turned anxiously towards his mother. Her eyes were fixed
apprehensively upon him: he turned towards Julia; she was engaged with
the merrythought of a chicken. He again turned to the Countess.
"My dear mother, you are not satisfied with Sir John Wetheral's
opinion: I see you think I am unwell, and you are always watching me,
therefore, you understand my constitution better than any one can do. I
don't think I am very well this morning. I could almost fancy my head
was uncomfortable."
"You never give way to fancy, my dear son, therefore, you are not
well. I can read the expression of your poor heavy eyes this morning:
I am very uneasy." The Countess rose with some perturbation from the
breakfast-table.
Lord Ennismore rose also. "Excuse me, Sir John Wetheral, excuse me,
Miss Wetheral, if I appear abrupt in quitting your company. I will
retire, if you please, this morning; I certainly feel very unwell, and
a few hours quiet will be calming. Pray don't rise, Lady Ennismore; my
mother will give me her assistance to my apartments; my dear mother,
will you be so kind as to give me an audience?"
Julia rose, and offered her arm to Lord Ennismore, but he again
declined her assistance. The Countess approached with exultation in her
looks and manner; but soft words were upon her lips.
"I believe we old people are better fitted for nurses, my dear Julia.
Your alarm, perhaps, would be greater than my own upon any emergency,
but an old head is more used to critical situations. My dearest love,
will you accompany our friends into the sitting-room, and then join
us; you will be very anxious to see the effect of my old-fashioned
remedies. My dear Sir John, I will see you again to arrange our drive."
Lord Ennismore quitted the breakfast-room with a look of real
dejection. His valet, who had been summoned, followed his lordship,
as he leaned upon the arm of the Countess. Her implied suspicions had
taken such deep root in the weak mind of her son, that his imagination
led him to believe he was seriously ill. His lordship walked softly,
with the air of a person who felt assured he had been suddenly seized
with an alarming and painful malady: his person shrunk into greater
insignificance, his eye wore a more heavy expression--he was the
perfect illustration of Molière's "Malade Imaginaire," as he walked
gently across the grandly-proportioned apartment. What a creature to
possess a wife so lovely as Julia, and to be the representative of the
earldom of Ennismore! to own the baronial halls of Bedinfield, and
write himself a man!
Sir John Wetheral would not let Julia depart when they entered the
sitting-room. He made her take a seat by his side upon the sofa, and he
held her hand, while he gazed fondly upon her. Julia smiled, and asked
him "if he was examining the hectic appearances upon _her_ cheek."
"No, my child, here are no symptoms of green and yellow melancholy; you
look well, Julia, therefore, you _must_ be happy."
"Yes, papa, I am indeed happy. Lady Ennismore spoils me, and will not
let me stir from her side, 'lest the winds of heaven should blow too
roughly on my cheek.' She is all kindness."
"And Lord Ennismore is indulgent, Julia, and makes you happy?"
"I wish he would not take so much medicine, papa; otherwise, he never
contradicts me in anything. I cannot think it wholesome to take such a
quantity of medicine. The Countess encourages him, I think."
"You love him, Julia?"
"Yes, pretty well, papa. Mamma told me I should like him better and
better every day, when I was once married, but I can't say that is
quite the case. I like Lord Ennismore, though: he never offends
me, except in the quantity of pills and powders. I don't like him
_better_, but then I don't think I like him worse."
"You are anxious to visit Wetheral again, my love?"
"Indeed, papa, I am. I want to find out why my friends have been
silent. Mamma has behaved very ill: she has never written me a line,
though I addressed her every month. I can't imagine what my friends are
made of. The Countess warned me of all this."
"What can Lady Ennismore prophecy, who is so distantly known to your
friends, Julia?"
"She tells me, papa, that every body is envious of my marriage, and
that my friends will fall away, because all youthful friendships are
hollow. Penelope has, indeed, proved how little my letters interest
her."
"Indeed, Julia," exclaimed Christobelle, "Miss Wycherly has not
received one letter from Bedinfield. She told me so very sorrowfully at
Hatton."
"I cannot think that," returned her sister. "The Countess herself
took my letters to seal, and order them to be put into the post-bag.
Penelope must have received them, but she is preparing for her
marriage, and Charles Spottiswoode engrosses her attention."
"No, indeed, Julia; remember Miss Wycherly's message by papa."
"I cannot understand it all," replied Julia, as the tears rushed to her
eyes; "I love all my friends dearly, but now I am Countess of Ennismore
not a soul thinks of me, to keep up a correspondence. Mamma told me
that rank bought every thing, yet I cannot purchase a line from my own
home, 'to bid God bless me.' I am very unhappy about it sometimes,
only Lady Ennismore comforts me, and says she loves me for a hundred
friends."
"Think no more of it, my love, we shall be all united at Wetheral soon,
and you shall lecture Penelope before us in conclave." Sir John pressed
Julia to him as he spoke. She smiled through her tears.
"Oh, you are _all_ included in my coming lecture! You are _all_
delinquents! I thought I should have fainted when I heard of your
arrival yesterday, so unexpectedly! I was flying down to you, but dear
Lady Ennismore arrested my flight. She made me lie down, and take some
of my lord's horrid drops. She advised me, too, to receive you in the
drawing-room; it was more becoming my station, and your demerits. I
forgot station and demerits, when I heard your dear name, papa." She
threw her arms round her father's neck, and proceeded. "What care I
for any one, like my own dear papa? I know I should be fonder of Lord
Ennismore if he was not always mixing up draughts and lotions, and if
he was more with me; but his rooms are near Lady Ennismore, and mine
are in the left wing of this immense place."
"You do not mean to infer, my love, that you have separate apartments!"
said her father, starting up from the sofa. "Four months of matrimony,
and a separation already, Julia!"
"Oh, that's an old affair now, papa. Lord Ennismore had his rooms
prepared near Lady Ennismore these three months, because he thought she
understood the pennyweights and grains better than I do. I only see my
lord at meals, and he is extremely attentive to me then, I must say;
but I cannot like him as I should do if he consulted _me_ about his
medicines. I should learn the weights and measures in time, you know."
Sir John walked to the window, without making any reply. The Countess
entered the room at the moment; she spoke kindly and feelingly to her
daughter; at the same time taking both her hands, and pressing them
with affectionate solicitude.
"My dear love, my lord is inquiring for you: he feels better, much
better, but I have decided upon sending for Dr. Anstruther. He wishes
you to sit with him; he inquires for Julia upon all occasions, and I
am now come for you. My son is full of regrets," added her ladyship,
turning towards her guests, "that he should feel one of his little
seizures at this particular moment, when he wished to do the honours of
Bedinfield; but he deputes me to act for him. He has insisted upon my
ordering the _barouchette_, to drive Miss Wetheral and yourself to the
plantations. My dear son will hope to be perfectly well at dinner: he
is quite nervous about the plantations."
Sir John appeared too engrossed with his own emotions to reply; but he
bowed to her ladyship's speech. She turned to Christobelle.
"My dear young friend, we shall return to luncheon, therefore, as my
daughter remains with her husband, you will, probably, be glad to
accompany us in our drive. We shall set out in half an hour."
Christobelle promised herself little pleasure in the drive, since Julia
would not be with them, but she would prepare to attend her ladyship's
summons. The two ladies then proceeded towards the hall. Julia looked
back at her father, as he seated himself near Christobelle, and smiled.
"Papa, I shall find out about the letters from Lady Ennismore. I am
sure Penelope is wrong!"
"What is this little affair, Julia?" asked Lady Ennismore, with
peculiar quickness.
"My friends say they have received no letters from Bedinfield, my dear
mother. _You_ know I wrote, for you were kind enough to seal my long
crossed epistles. You told me they would serve me so!"
"I have often known fluctuations in correspondence among young people,
my love. I used to fancy in my youth that I was particularly ill-used;
but, when I look back, I perceive it was circumstances which over-ruled
many events."
Lady Ennismore continued speaking to Julia, but the distance prevented
the substance of her remarks reaching her friends. Before the speech
concluded, however, they had gained the door, which Lady Ennismore
closed after their transit, and the subject was never more renewed. A
heavy sigh from her father arrested Christobelle's attention. She asked
him if he was ill.
"Not in body, my dear child: my mind alone is wretched."
"Oh, why, papa?" she exclaimed, in surprise; "what makes you wretched
in this beautiful place of Julia's? and Julia herself so well and
happy!"
"There is no happiness with that dangerous woman, and that feeble son!"
said her father, as he paced the room. "There is no peace for my poor
child--ignorance, ignorance is her only earthly chance! Why was I so
weak, so deluded, to marry my poor child to a wretched idiot?"
"Papa," Christobelle uttered gently--"dear papa, who are you meaning?"
He did not hear her speak; her father apparently forgot her presence,
for he continued walking.
"To give way to a woman's tears, when my judgment recoiled at the
union, was folly, was wickedness. My heart will feel this, for I knew
it was wrong, yet I sanctioned it by my presence. My poor Julia!--my
poor, poor girl!"
Christobelle could not bear to hear her father's self-reproach; she
went to him and took his hand.
"Papa," she said, "don't say you have done wrong; you never did wrong
to any body. We all say how good and kind you are to us."
He stopped and looked earnestly at her.
"I have brought you up, Chrystal, with very different principles. I do
not think _you_ will bring me in sorrow to the grave. I think you will
not sell yourself to perjury and ambition, as others have done."
"I will never do what you tell me not to do, papa."
"I hope not--I hope not, my child. I tell you not to marry a selfish,
heartless man, as Clara and Julia have done, to secure wealth and rank,
which they will never enjoy in peace--which they will never enjoy in
respectability. It is a hard fate, but even the young must endure it
if they barter peace for riches. God help them! their poor mother has
done this, and I did not act a father's part by them!" Sir John seated
himself, and Christobelle knelt by him, and held his hand to her lips,
and kissed it repeatedly. He was recalled to recollection by this
movement, and he raised her from the attitude she had chosen, to a seat
by her side.
"My dear Chrystal, never repeat the remarks to any third person, which
you have heard now from my lips. Remember the trust I have in your
youth, because you have been my companion, and have learned to be
silent, and to think a parent's word sacred. You will understand my
distress of mind at a future period; but at this moment the knowledge
of my suffering would be incomprehensible to you. In your steadiness of
character I hope for much comfort hereafter."
Christobelle did indeed hope to be his comfort in age, as he had been
her shield in youth. Her words were simple, and her expressions were
uttered with untutored energy, but they were sincere in feeling. His
society, his kindness, his information, had been her happiness; for
they had shielded her from a mother's reproaches, and her increasing
loss of self-command. They had preserved her from ambitious feelings,
by withdrawing her from her mother's influence; and, by offering her
the calm pleasures of his study, instead of consigning her first young
days to the infected air of Thompson's room, and Thompson's arguments,
Christobelle had known only indulgence and gentle treatment. How
could she help loving this estimable parent, or fail to make his
slightest wish the law of her heart? She did promise--and redeemed
that promise--that she would never breathe to a human being the
conversations which he entrusted to her sacred keeping.
Lady Ennismore was true to her appointment. She did the honours of
the new drive with infinite grace, and conversed with Sir John upon
every subject with fluent and astonishing information. Her ladyship
appeared quite equal to guide the destinies of Bedinfield. Every
improvement originated with herself, however carefully she subscribed
Lord Ennismore's name to the plans; and her perfect acquaintance with
agricultural economy proved her equal to the task of superintending
her son's immense property. Christobelle was delighted with the polite
tact of her manners, as she directed her conversation from John to
herself. It is assuredly a great gift to possess that polite ease, and
well-directed attention, which gives a flattering unction to the vanity
of all who receive its plastic touch. It is the wand of a fairy which
turns words into the pearls and diamonds of the little tale--which does
so delightfully
"Wash, and comb, and lay us down softly."
No one could exceed Lady Ennismore in that most fascinating, most
dangerous gift of attraction. Christobelle felt under its spell,
bound towards her by the silent and potent effects of soothed
vanity. She felt she was of equal consideration with her father in
Lady Ennismore's eyes; for her opinions were elicited, and listened
to with marked attention. Christobelle was raised above the level
of her understanding--she was gratified--she was delighted with
Lady Ennismore. The dull drive which had been anticipated, passed
pleasantly, even rapidly, to her charmed feelings; and Sir John
confessed to her, that he could not feel surprised at her ladyship's
powerful influence over the unsuspicious and gentle heart of Julia.
Lady Ennismore was equally fascinating at luncheon. She did not partake
of the delicacies which tempted the eye, and impelled appetite; but her
lively conversation almost recompensed them for the absence of Julia,
whose excuses she tendered. "Lord Ennismore was certainly very unwell;
he was suffering much pain in the head. His dear Julia never left her
son when he had those wretched attacks. He could not endure her to be a
moment from his sight; but she had deputed her to give her best love
to both dear relations, whom she hoped to meet at dinner, or at least,
in the evening."
But Julia did not appear at the promised hour. "Lord Ennismore's
symptoms increased. Dr. Anstruther was of opinion his patient was
preparing for another of those alarming attacks. She greatly feared
Julia would be confined to a sick room many days, but her son was so
eagerly bent upon receiving every thing from Julia's hand--so attached
to his lady, it was delightful to witness such conjugal affection. Lord
Ennismore almost increased the disorder, by regretting his inability to
see his agreeable guests: the next visit to Bedinfield, her ladyship
trusted, would be free from such a painful interruption of intercourse."
The evening passed away, and Julia did not appear. It _did_ seem
strange that she could not make her escape to her family for a quarter
of an hour. Why was Lord Ennismore so anxious for his lady's society,
so very much attached as his mother represented him to be, and yet
allow her apartments to remain at such a distance from his own? Why
was not his attachment manifested in that love for her society which
would make them inseparable, like the Boscawens, like the Pynsents,
nay, even like the unhappily assorted Kerrisons? Surely, Julia might
be replaced by the anxious mother, while she visited at intervals her
own father! Christobelle was infinitely astonished at Julia's complete
seclusion with Lord Ennismore, for she knew her strong affection to
her own family, and the little anxiety she could suffer for a man whom
she professed to like "pretty well!" This was not love, to compel that
devotion of time and thought to her husband's comforts which Anna Maria
would have shown to her honest-hearted and beloved Tom Pynsent. It was
a line of conduct Christobelle could not comprehend, and her father did
not enlighten her on the subject, when she expressed her sentiments
to him at parting for the night. He doubtless felt and understood the
whole system pursued by the Dowager Countess to sustain her power at
Bedinfield; but Christobelle was too young to be initiated in the wiles
of the human heart, and she wept to think her sister could absent
herself so long from those who loved her, and who had journeyed so far
to enjoy her presence.
The second morning's meal was ungraced by Julia still. Lord Ennismore
was even "seriously" indisposed; and her ladyship spoke with feeling,
and at great length, of her own parental anxiety. Her mind was torn
to pieces with agitation and alarm. She fancied sometimes, the mild
air of the South of Italy would be necessary to the recovery of her
son's health. Julia would be so confined at Bedinfield, she thought.
The bright climate of Rome or Naples would be beneficial to both her
children, and, perhaps, brace her own nerves. She had talked to Dr.
Anstruther upon the subject, and he quite went with her in her ideas of
Rome. "What did her dear Sir John think?"
Sir John could form no opinion. He was not acquainted with the nature
of the attacks which afflicted Lord Ennismore, and Julia's health was
excellent, if he was to judge by her blooming and healthy complexion.
"True, my dear sir; Julia does indeed give evidence of health, and a
tranquil mind. I am most happy in the knowledge, indeed in her own
assurance, that her heart is free from care. I have spoken to her this
morning, and she seems delighted with the prospect of a continental
tour. I am very uneasy about my son."
"Have you had medical advice from town, Lady Ennismore?"
"No: Dr. Anstruther is remarkably clever. My son, as well as myself,
pin our faith upon his advise. I am never easy without Dr. Anstruther.
We could not consult a more intelligent medical adviser."
"As I purpose leaving Bedinfield early to-morrow morning, your ladyship
may perhaps...."
"My dear friend, you must not quit us in this hurried way! Surely
you do not leave Bedinfield so soon!" The Countess spoke in tones of
regret, but her eyes betrayed her pleasurable feelings. "I must mourn
my son's illness, since it removes you from us. The next visit must
be at some moment more favourable to all parties. This has been an
unfortunate occurrence. I must lament this very unfortunate occurrence."
"I wish to see my daughter before I quit Bedinfield," said Sir John
Wetheral, with seriousness of look and manner. "I must see my daughter
before I return to Wetheral: probably she will not be so closely
confined to-day."
"I hope not--I will try to hope not," replied the Countess; "but
my fears will not allow me to be tranquil. When our breakfast is
concluded, I will visit our invalid again, and, if possible, release
my dear Julia. She is very watchful and attentive, dear creature. I
cannot wonder at Ennismore's anxiety to have her with him. We will see
what this hour has produced."
Breakfast was concluded in silence. The Countess lost her lively flow
of spirits, and Sir John did not contribute his usual portion of
pleasant conversation. The trio gradually became silent and sad, and
Lady Ennismore, politely expressing her hopes that they should yet
alter their intention of leaving Bedinfield, rose to visit her son. She
hoped Julia might return to them, when she was with the dear invalid,
to take her place; but, if a short time intervened, she trusted they
would find amusement in the stores of the library, or in perambulating
the grounds. All and every thing was at their command.
The father and daughter were alone for some hours. Each moment, as it
sped rapidly on, was full of hope that Julia was on her way to gladden
their sight, and delight their hearts; but, as time were on, they
feared some evil accident had befallen the unfortunate Lord Ennismore.
The door at last opened, and the same attendant, who appeared at their
entrance into Bedinfield, again presented herself.
"The Countess of Ennismore regrets the necessity of her absence, Sir
John, but she cannot quit my lord's apartment. I am deputed to bear
her compliments, and the regret of the young Lady Ennismore. The
Countess commands me to say the carriages are at your disposal, and her
ladyship trusts you will excuse her presence till the hour of dinner."
"I fear his lordship is very unwell," observed Sir John, fixing
his eyes upon the unwelcome messenger with an expression of strong
disbelief in her statement; but she avoided meeting his gaze.
"I am commanded to unfold my message to Sir John Wetheral, but I was
not authorised to speak beyond its purport. I must now return to her
ladyship."
"Stay one instant," resumed Sir John, "and take back my answer. Tell
your lady, I will not occupy the time and services, which appear
to be required on Lord Ennismore's part. I will order my carriage
immediately; but I wish for one moment to take leave of my daughter,
Lady Ennismore, ere I leave her to the mournful task of watching by her
patient. My daughter and myself are useless, since our exertions cannot
benefit Lord Ennismore. I wish to see my daughter, if you please; and I
shall be obliged by your conveying my wishes to one of her people."
The attendant of Lady Ennismore retired, and they were again two hours
without receiving any interruption. The carriage had been some moments
at the door, and Sir John was walking up and down the room with hasty
steps, when a note was presented to him, upon a silver waiter, by Lady
Ennismore's footman.
"My dear Sir John,
"I cannot wonder at your flight--this is a place of sorrow and
sickness, unfit for the healthy and happy. May we meet soon again!
Julia and myself dare not quit for a moment our beloved and suffering
invalid--he is in great torment.
"Yours most truly,
"E. ENNISMORE."
Sir John Wetheral rang the bell: a brief pause, and the footman
reappeared.
"Is Dr. Anstruther at this moment in the house?"
"I believe the doctor is now with my lord, Sir John."
"I wish to see Dr. Anstruther the instant he quits Lord Ennismore's
apartment."
The servant bowed, and disappeared.
"This is hopeless and helpless," observed Sir John; "I can only
increase Julia's distress, by remaining at Bedinfield. What use will
it be to inquire into the machinations of the Countess, except to reap
bitterness, and perceive my inability to rouse the torpid character of
her son. My poor Julia's fate depends upon that artful woman's will. It
is vain to look on, and witness that which I cannot control."
"But Lord Ennismore is very ill, papa," exclaimed the sorrowing
Christobelle. "Lord Ennismore is very ill, and Julia cannot leave him
to bid us farewell! Will he die, papa?"
Sir John made no reply to the hurried question. He was struggling with
his own emotions. He led his daughter in silence through the file of
footmen in the hall to the entrance-door, where his carriage waited,
already packed and surmounted by Taylor. Hornby advanced to inform
him of Dr. Anstruther's departure from Bedinfield; he had driven away
before Sir John's message had been delivered to him. Sir John made no
remark; he handed Christobelle into the carriage, and ordered the door
to be closed: he did not enter it himself. Christobelle entreated him
to join her. "My dear papa, where are you going to ride?"
"In the rumble, my love: the air will do me good. Take Taylor inside."
The exchange was made quickly. Sir John took possession of the rumble,
which enabled him to commune with his own thoughts in silence, and
they quitted for ever the magnificent home, which Julia's fatal
ambition had preferred to the happy days of her singlehood, in the less
courtly domain of Wetheral Castle. They left, for ever, the towers
of Bedinfield, its wooded hills, its calmly beautiful and luxuriant
scenery: they never more beheld its ancient walls, or visited the home
of Julia's choice. In ten days after Sir John Wetheral's return into
Shropshire, the Bedinfield establishment, including Dr. Anstruther,
were on their road to Florence, and it was said Lord Ennismore's health
had compelled the sudden and silently arranged movement.