Quando muovo le luci a mirar voi,
La forma che nel cor m'impressa Amore,
Io mi sento agghiacciar dentro e di fuore,
Al primo lampeggiar de' raggi moi.
A le nobil maniere affiso poi,
A le rare virtuti, al gran valore,
Ragionarmi pian piano, odo nel core[4].
ARIOSTO.
[Footnote 4:
When tremblingly I raise my eyes
To view that form, which in my breast
The hand of Love has deep impressed,
My shiv'ring frame, in sudden trance,
Congeals beneath thy lightning glance;
But soon my heart, in broken sighs,
Renews the tale it told before,
And, counting all thy beauties o'er,
Dwells on thy talents, virtues rare,
Thy mind so pure, thy form so fair,
Till even hope amid the whispers dies.
N. B. Freezing beneath a _lightning_ glance, in the original--a fair
example of Italian concetti.]
To account for the unexpected appearance of Lord Osselstone and
Mordaunt together at Lady Eltondale's party, it will be necessary
briefly to mention, that, soon after Augustus had left Mrs. Galton at
Bath, the Earl had arrived there, and accidentally renewed their
acquaintance. The frequent opportunity of intercourse, which all such
places afford, having produced a degree of unexpected association
between her and the Earl, it was not unnatural, that the nephew of the
one and the favourite of the other should frequently become the subject
of their discourse; and Mrs. Galton delighted in expatiating on the fine
character of her dear Augustus, with whom she kept up a constant and
confidential correspondence.
There were few characters so much respected by Lord Osselstone as that
of Mrs. Galton. Candour and simplicity were the qualities of all others,
which, by not calling forth from him the defensive armour of distrust
and penetration, left his heart more open to the impressions of real
worth. The Earl knew that on common subjects Mrs. Galton could have no
interest in appearing to him other than she really was; and on the
subject of Augustus in particular, though he sometimes mentally accused
her of exaggeration, he was perfectly convinced she was uniformly
sincere. She once, in her zealous friendship, communicated to his
Lordship a part of Augustus' correspondence with herself; and to this
transcript of his mind, which was incontestably written without design
of being read by a third person, did Lord Osselstone give more credit
than to her partial representation of the original.
The consequence of these communications became afterwards apparent.
Lord Osselstone soon removed to London; and one day meeting Augustus in
the street, he accosted him with so much of the _suaviter in modo_, that
his at first unbending pride was finally subdued. For never yet had Lord
Osselstone encountered a rock which he could not dissolve, though by
more dulcet means than those attributed to the Carthaginian hero; and
the Alpine snow, which had hitherto enveloped both uncle and nephew,
being once thawed, a frequency of intercourse, as unsought as unexpected
on the part of Mordaunt, had taken place between them: not that they
were yet intimate, or appeared likely to become so. A certain magic
circle seemed to surround Lord Osselstone; and though the politeness and
condescension of his manners attracted others to its very verge, there
was still a secondary, though invisible repulsive power, that forbade
approach beyond its well defined limits.
Augustus now received frequent invitations to Osselstone House, both
for large dinner parties, and for the still more flattering distinction
of a _tÍte ‡ tÍte_; but though he daily met with considerate and even
kind attentions from the Earl, he could not help still feeling he was
more his _patron_ than his _friend_. Lord Osselstone frequently
concluded a _tÍte ‡ tÍte_ dinner, in which he had exerted every charm of
conversation for the entertainment of his guest, at the same time
eliciting all the varied powers of understanding that guest possessed,
by proposing that he should accompany him to those higher circles of
fashion, which the Earl still occasionally frequented; and in those
crowded assemblies where there is so often "company without society, and
dissipation without pleasure," the heir to Lord Osselstone's earldom was
always welcome, even where the untitled Augustus Mordaunt would scarcely
have been noticed.
It may be supposed that Augustus received, with no little trepidation,
the card his uncle presented him with for Lady Eltondale's assembly. For
a moment he hesitated whether or not to accept it; but the thought of
being once more in the same room with Selina soon over-balanced his
wounded feelings. As he followed his uncle up the sumptuous stair-case
in Portman-square, while his heart fluttered between pleasure and
despondency, his mind had wandered back to the scenes of Deane Hall, and
"days long since gone by." By a natural illusion Selina's figure had
always floated before his fancy, as he had last seen it clothed in the
sable garb of woe, with the tear of regret resting on her pallid cheek.
How different was the blooming form that now presented itself, as at the
moment of his entering the room his eye intuitively singled her out from
the crowd that surrounded her. She stood like the queen of beauty
receiving the homage of all around, her eyes sparkling with animation,
her whole figure beaming in joy. "Good God, how lovely!" he
involuntarily exclaimed. But as his protracted gaze discovered the
alterations her manners and appearance had undergone in the few months
she had been under the tuition of Lady Eltondale, a cold chill ran
through his veins, as he recollected the possibility that her mind might
be equally changed; and renewing his scrutinizing glance, he shuddered
at the external improvement that had first extorted his admiration, and
sighed to think of the lovely artless girl, who would once have flown to
meet him with all the innocence of undisguised delight.
But though Augustus had thus instantly recognized Selina, though his
eyes had followed her every step, and watched her every motion, she had
not then discovered him. The moment she did perceive him, her first
impulse was to move towards the spot on which he stood. But she had
scarcely taken a few steps, when she as involuntarily stopped. She
became embarrassed, and had she been more experienced in the waywardness
of the human heart, she would better have known why, with conscious
timidity, she hesitated to approach him she was most delighted to
behold. Augustus watched her approach, and had advanced a few steps to
meet it, but misconstruing her delay, he turned away with a movement of
pique and ill defined jealousy, entering into apparently interesting
conversation with a very pretty girl who stood near him. At the moment
when Selina came near enough to overhear what he was saying, he was
busily employed in making gallant apologies to his new friend for not
having called upon her, though he acknowledged he had been six weeks in
town.
However he could not long keep his resolution, and he again turned to
speak to his "heart's best love;" but a pang had shot through Selina's
soul, as she had learned from his own lips that he had been so long in
town, and recollected that he had never called in Portman-square. She
therefore returned his address with a cold politeness, far, far
different from what her manner to him once had been; and advanced to
meet Lady Eltondale, who at that moment was bringing up Lord Osselstone
to introduce to her. His Lordship, at the request of the Viscountess,
led Selina towards the music-room, where the rest of the musical
performers were waiting to accompany her in her formidable undertaking.
The harp was to be her first exhibition, and the poor girl, intimidated
by the presence of so numerous an audience, and agitated by her
rencontre with Mordaunt, could scarcely bring her trembling fingers to
touch the strings with any degree of tolerable accuracy. But Lord
Osselstone stood beside her, and the calm and dignified support with
which he endeavoured to encourage her, assisted her in regaining some
degree of composure. As she advanced in her performance, her eye caught
the impassioned glance of Mordaunt, and her anxiety to exhibit to him
her newly acquired accomplishment lent her an unexpected force, which
enabled her to go through the fiery trial beyond her most sanguine
expectation. Her playing was of course applauded many degrees beyond its
real merit; but she quickly retreated from the flattery that at that
moment was indifferent to her. Her eyes instinctively sought Mordaunt's
with an anxious, timid, almost beseeching look. His rested on her
beautiful countenance with an expression no less unequivocal, and for
once they read aright each other's soul; and many months, nay years
passed away, before that mutual glance was obliterated from the mind of
either. Several minutes elapsed before Augustus could make his way up to
Selina, so closely was she surrounded by the unregarded throng; but when
he did reach her, one short sentence expressed his delighted surprise
at her new acquirement. "Do you think dear aunt Mary will be pleased
too?" whispered Selina. Before he could give any answer to this simple
query, gratifying as it doubly was by the sympathy it accidentally
expressed to his feelings at the moment, Lady Eltondale approached, and
applauded, in the strongest terms, her niece's performance. "Have you
also learned to sing, Selina?" said Augustus, as he turned over the
loose music that lay on the piano forte. Lady Eltondale hastily replied,
with a slight emphasis, "Miss Seymour practises Italian music
constantly:--Frederick will find, on his return, good singing is not
confined to Italy." A cold weight fell on Augustus's heart;--the visions
of happiness, that an instant before had fleeted over his mind, vanished
like a charm. He gave a deep sigh, and, seemingly without design, turned
towards Selina a duet that caught his eye. It was Mozart's arrangement
of Metastasio's beautiful words:--
"Ah! perdona al primo affetto,
Questo accento sconsigliato
Colpa fu d'un labbro usato
A cosi chiamarti ognor."
Selina read the couplet, and casting her eyes over the following verse,
coloured deeply at the application she involuntarily made of it. Lady
Eltondale, who in the mean time had narrowly watched her changing
countenance, roused her from her reverie by introducing to her at that
moment Lord George Meredith, who was one of the young men who had been
loudest in Miss Seymour's praise. His compliments were now however
disregarded, as Selina looked anxiously round for Mordaunt--but he had
disappeared. She fancied he had retired to one of the adjoining rooms,
and made many excuses not only to her companions, but even to herself,
for restlessly sauntering through them all. Sometimes she recollected
she had left her fan behind; another time she persuaded herself Lady
Eltondale wanted her;--but still the object she really sought was not to
be found. By degrees she became painfully convinced he was actually
gone. "It is very odd he should go away so abruptly," thought she; "I
had a thousand things to say to him about aunt Mary." And then a
confused idea occurring, that the pretty flirting girl, she had seen him
talking to, had said something about going to a ball after Lady
Eltondale's party, she mechanically retraced her steps, and finding she
too had departed, a sickening depression came over her, and she retired
to the boudoir to recover herself. But she was not long permitted to
rest in peace:--Sir James Fenton, who, led by Lady Eltondale, entered
the room laughing with all the exaggerated action that became his
character, though not his figure, exclaimed, "Where is the Syren? Where
is the goddess of the night?" Then on perceiving Selina, he resigned the
arm of the Viscountess with a low bow, and singing with ludicrous tone
and gesture, "_Dove sei amato bene_," advanced to Miss Seymour, who,
half dragged, half led, was re-conducted to the music-room.
But the feeling which had supported her in her last effort was now no
more. The duet, of which Mademoiselle Omphalie had loudly boasted, was
to commence, and Selina exerted herself to the utmost in its execution;
but her voice faltered, and before she got half way through it, she
burst into tears. Her distress, which was thus evidently unfeigned, now
made her nearly as many friends as her charms had before procured her
admirers; while Lady Eltondale easily persuaded every body except
herself, that it could only arise from timidity, and therefore forbore
to join the general request that the effort might be renewed; while Sir
James exclaimed, in all the hyperbole of compliment,
"Sweet harmonist, and beautiful as sweet,
And young as beautiful, and soft as young!"
Meantime Lord. Osselstone had advanced towards Selina, and there was
always something so dignified in his appearance, that those who did not
know him involuntarily made way for him; and all those who were
acquainted with him did so mechanically. He at first addressed the
trembling girl in the language of compliment, but finding her real
agitation was not to be soothed by the sovereign balm of flattery, he
gradually turned the conversation on Mrs. Galton. Her eyes then beamed
with gratitude for his praise, which she believed could not then be
insincere; and in her tell-tale countenance and artless expressions, he
read a heart not yet practised in the world's wiles. The company began
to separate before their conversation ended; and as Selina, on her
wakeful pillow, recalled to her mind this evening of promised pleasure,
she sighed to think, that those few calm moments she had passed with
Lord Osselstone were the only ones, on which she could reflect with any
tranquillity.