Harleigh, confused, disconcerted, remained motionless; but when the
conscious Juliet would have glided silently past him, he entreated for a
moment's audience.
'Oh no, Mr Harleigh, no!' she cried: 'these are scenes and alarms, that
must be risked no more!--'
She was hurrying away; but, upon his saying, 'Hear me, at least, for
Elinor!' she turned back.
His eye, now reproached even her compliance; but he rapidly communicated
his opinion, that the conference demanded by Elinor ought, in prudence,
for the present, to be avoided; since, while she had still some
favourite object in view, life, would, unconsciously, be still
supported. Time, thus, might insensibly be gained, not only for eluding
her fatal project, but happily, perhaps, for taming the dauntless
wildness that made her, now, seem to stand scoffingly at bay, between
life and death.
Juliet saw nothing to oppose to this statement, and thanking him that,
at least, it liberated her, was again hastening away.
'Hold, hold!' cried he, stopping her: 'it is not from me that it must
liberate you! Elinor has ratified the restoration of your word--'
'Oh, were that all!--' she cried, hastily; but, stopping short, deeply
blushing, 'Mr Harleigh,' she added, 'compel me not to repeat
declarations that cannot vary!--Aid me rather, generously,--kindly,
shall I say?--aid me,--to fly, to avoid you,--lest you become
yourself ...' her voice faltered as she pronounced, 'the most fatal of
my enemies!'
The penetrated Harleigh, charmed, though tortured, saw her eyes
glittering with tears; but she forced her way past him, and took refuge
in her chamber.
There, in deep anguish, she was sinking upon a chair, when she received
the gentle balm of a letter from Gabriella, written with exstatic joy at
the prospect of their re-union.
This decided her plan of immediate escape to London, under a full
conviction that Harleigh, to obviate any calumnious surmizes from her
disappearance, would studiously shew himself in the world; however
cautiously he might avoid any interview with Elinor.
The shock of Juliet, at this unfortunate intrusion, somewhat abated,
when she reflected that confirmed hopelessness might, perchance, lead
Elinor to acquiescence in disappointment; for hopelessness, equally with
resignation,--though not so respectably,--terminates all struggles
against misfortune.
She now, therefore, seized an opportunity, when she knew Mrs Ireton to
be engaged with Mrs Maple, for going forth to secure a place in some
machine, for a journey to London on the following morning.
This office performed, she thought, while returning home, that she
perceived, though at a considerable distance, Harleigh.
In the dread of some new conflict, she was planning to seek another way
back, when recollecting that she had his bank-notes in her work-bag, she
judged that she might more promptly return them at this accidental
meeting, than in the house of Mrs Ireton.
She slackened, therefore, her pace, and, taking out her ever ready
packet, turned round, as the footstep approached, gravely and calmly to
deliver it; when, to her utter surprize, she faced Lord Melbury.
Pleasure emitted its brightest hues in the tints of her cheeks, at sight
of the marked respect that chastened the visible delight with which she
was looked at and accosted by the young peer. 'How fortunate,' he cried,
'am I to meet with you thus directly! This moment only I dismount from
my horse. I have a million of things to say to you from Aurora, if you
will have the goodness to hear them; and I have more at heart still my
own claim upon your patience. When may I see you for a little
conversation?'
The pleasure of Juliet was now severely checked by perplexity, how
either to fulfil or to break her engagement. Observing the change in her
countenance, and her hesitation and difficulty to answer, Lord Melbury,
whose look and air changed also, said, in a tone of concern, 'Miss Ellis
has not forgotten her kind promise?'
'Your lordship is extremely good, to remember either that or me; yet I
hope--'
'What does Miss Ellis hope? I would not counteract her hopes for the
world; but surely she cannot be so cruel as to disappoint mine? to make
me fear that she has changed her opinion? to withdraw her amiable
trust?'
'No, my lord, no! not a moment could I hesitate were trust alone in
question! but the hurry of this instant,--the impossibility of detailing
so briefly, and by an imperfect account--'
'And why an imperfect account? Why, dear Miss Ellis, since you have the
kindness to believe I may be trusted, not confide to me the whole
truth?'
'Alas, my lord! how?--where?'
'In some parlour,--in the garden,--any where.--'
'Ah, my lord, what I have to say must be uninterrupted; unheard but by
yourself; and--I can command neither a place nor a moment free from
intrusion!'--
'Sweet Miss Ellis!--sweet injured Miss Ellis! I know, I have witnessed
the unworthiness of your treatment. Even Aurora, with all her
gentleness, has been as indignant at it, nearly, as myself. All our
wonder is how you bear it!--We burn, we expire to learn what can urge so
undue a subjection. But I have not obtruded myself upon you only for
myself; I have galloped hither to prepare you,--and to entreat you not
to be uneasy,--and to save you from any surprize, by acquainting you
that my uncle Denmeath--'
He stopt short, as if thunderstruck. Juliet, alarmed, looked at him, and
saw that, in bending over her, to name, in a lower voice, his uncle, his
eyes had caught the direction of her packet, "For Albert Harleigh, Esq."
Shocked at the evidently unpleasant effect which this sight produced,
and covered with blushes at the suspicions to which it might give rise,
Juliet hastily exclaimed, 'Oh my lord! I must no longer defer my
explanation! any, every risk will be preferable to the loss of your
esteem!'
Delight, enchantment again were depicted on the countenance, as they
seized the faculties of the young peer; and, involuntarily, his eager
hands were stretching forwards to seize hers, when he perceived, just
approached to them, pale, agitated, and with the look of some one taken
suddenly ill, Harleigh.
The colour of Juliet now rose and died away alternately, from varying
sensations of shame and apprehension; to which the deepest confusion
soon succeeded, as she discerned the contrast of the cheeks, whitened by
pale jealousy, of Harleigh; with those of Lord Melbury, which were
crimsoned with the reddest hues of sudden suspicion, and painful
mistrust.
Harleigh, with a faint and forced smile, bowed, but stood aloof: Lord
Melbury seemed to have not alone his sentiments, but his faculties held
in suspension.
Juliet, with cruel consciousness, perceived that each surmized something
clandestine of the other; and the immense importance which she annexed
to their joint good opinion; and the imminent danger which she saw of
the double forfeiture, soon re-invigorated her powers, and, addressing
herself with dignity, though in a tone of softness, to Lord Melbury, 'If
you judge me, my lord, from partial circumstances,' she cried, 'I have
every thing to apprehend for what I value more than words can express,
your lordship's approbation of the favour with which I am honoured by
Lady Aurora Granville; but let me rather hope,--suffer me, my lord, to
hope, that by the opinion I have formed of the honour of your own
character, you will judge,--though at present in the dark,--of the
integrity of mine!'
Turning then from him, as, touched, electrified, he was beginning, 'I
have always judged you to be an angel!'--she would have presented her
packet to Harleigh; though without raising her eyes, saying, 'Mr
Harleigh has so long;--and upon so many occasions, honoured me with
marks of his esteem,--and benevolence,--that I flatter myself,--I
think,--I trust--'
She stammered, confused; and Harleigh, who, from the moment that Lady
Aurora had been mentioned, had recovered his complexion, his
respiration, and his strength; recovered, also, his hopes and his
energy, at sight of the embarrassment of Juliet. Not doubting, however,
what were the contents of the packet, he held back from receiving it;
though with a smile that conveyed the most lively expression of grateful
delight, at her palpable anxiety to preserve his esteem.
'Nay, you must take your property!' she resumed, with attempted
cheerfulness; yet blushing more deeply every moment, at thus betraying
to Lord Melbury that she had any property of Mr Harleigh's to return.
'I will take your commands in every shape in which they can be framed,'
cried Harleigh, gaily; 'but you must not refuse to grant me, at the same
time, directions for their execution.'
The interest with which Lord Melbury listened to what passed, was now
mingled with undisguised impatience: but Juliet could not endure to
satisfy him; could not support letting him know, that she retained
money of Harleigh's in her hands; nor yet bear to suffer Harleigh, now
the address had been seen, to leave it still in her possession:
hesitating, abashed, she turned from one to the other, with looks at
Lord Melbury that seemed appealing for forbearance; and to Harleigh with
down-cast eyes, that had not force to encounter his, but that were
expressive of distress, timidity, and fear of misconstruction.
This pause, while it astonished and perplexed Lord Melbury, gave rise,
in Harleigh, to the most flattering emotions. Her disturbance was,
indeed, visible, and cruelly painful to him; but, since their meeting in
the church-yard, the severity of her reserve had seemed shaken, beyond
her power, evident as were her struggles, to call back its original
firmness. The more exquisitely he felt himself bewitched by this
observation, the more fondly he desired to spare her delicacy, by
concealing, though not repressing his hopes; but his eyes, less under
his controul than his words, air, or address, spoke a language not to be
doubted of tenderness, and sparkled with lustrous happiness, Juliet felt
their beams too powerfully to mistake, or even to sustain them. Her head
dropt, her eye-lids nearly closed; blushing shame tingled in her cheeks,
and apprehension and perturbation trembled in every limb.
Perceiving, and adoring, her inability to find utterance, Harleigh, with
subdued rapture, yet in a tone that spoke of his feelings to be, at
length, in harmony with all his wishes, was gently beginning an entreaty
that she would adjourn this little dispute to another day, when the
words, 'Well! if here i'n't the very person we were talking off!'
striking his ears, he looked round, and saw Miss Bydel, accompanied by
Mr Giles Arbe; whose approach had been unheeded by them all, from the
deep interest which had concentrated their attention to themselves.
'Why, Mrs Ellis,' she continued, 'why what are you doing here? I should
like to know that. I've just had a smart battle about you with my good
friend, Mr Giles. He will needs have it, that you paid all your debts
from a hoard that you had by you, of your own; though I have told him I
dare say an hundred times, at the least, I must needs be a better judge,
having been paid myself, for my own share, by that cross-grained
Baronet, who's been such a good friend to you.'
The sensations of Juliet underwent now another change, though shame was
still predominant; her fears of exciting the expectations she sought to
annul in Harleigh, were superseded by a terrour yet more momentous, of
giving ground for suspicion, not alone to himself, but to Lord Melbury,
that, while fashioning a thousand difficulties, to accepting the
assistance that was generously and delicately offered by themselves, she
had suffered a third person, that person, also, a gentleman, to supply
her pecuniary necessities. She breathed hard, and looked disordered, but
could suggest nothing to say; while Harleigh and Lord Melbury stood as
if transfixed by disturbed astonishment.
'Well! I protest,' resumed Miss Bydel, 'if here i'n't another of the
people that we were talking of, Mr Giles! for I declare it's Mr
Harleigh, that I was telling you, you know, my good friend, was the
person that made poor Miss Joddrel make away with her herself, because
of his skimper-scampering after Mrs Ellis, when she had that swoon!
which, to be sure, had but an out of the way look; for the music would
have taken care of her. Don't you think so yourself, my dear?'
The most painful confusion again took possession of Juliet; who would
silently have walked away, had not Miss Bydel caught hold of her arm,
saying, 'Don't be in a hurry, my dear, for you shan't be chid; for I'll
speak for you myself to Mrs Ireton.'
'I am mighty glad to hear that Sir Jaspar is your friend, my pretty
lady,' said the smiling Mr Giles; 'and I am mighty glad, too, that you
have persuaded him to help to pay your debts. He's a very good sort of
man, where he takes; and very witty and clever. Though he is crabbed,
too; rather crabbed and waspish, when he i'n't pleased. He always scolds
all the men: and, indeed, the maids, too, when they a'n't pretty, poor
things! And they can't help that: else, I dare say, they would. Yet, I
am afraid, I don't like them quite so well myself, neither, in my heart,
when they are ugly; which is but hard upon them; so I always do them
double the good, to punish myself. But I'm prodigiously sorry you should
have taken to that turn of running in debt, my dear, for it's the only
thing I know to your disadvantage; for which reason I have never named
it to a single soul; only it just dropt out, before I was aware, to Miss
Bydel; which I am sorry enough for; for I am afraid it will be but hard
to her, poor lady, to keep it to herself.'
'What do you mean by that Mr Giles?' cried Miss Bydel, angrily. 'Do you
want to insinuate that I don't know how to keep a secret? I should be
glad to know what right you have to fleer at a person about that, when
you blab out every thing in such a manner yourself! and before these two
gentlemen, too; who don't lose a word of what passes, I can tell you!'
'True! Good! You are right there, Mrs Bydel! I did not think of that, I
protest. However, these two gentlemen have too much kindness about them,
to repeat a thing that may hurt a young person just coming, as one may
say, into the world, for she is but a chicken; and my lord, here, who
looks younger still, is scarcely more than an egg. So you may be sure he
has no guile in him, for he seems almost as innocent as herself.
However, my pretty lady, if you have still any more debts, new or old,
only tell me who you owe them to, and I'll run and fetch all the people
here; and we'll join together to discharge them at once; for Mr Harleigh
is always at home when he is doing good; and this young nobleman can't
begin too soon to learn what he is rich for: so you can never be in
better hands for taking up a little money. When we settled the last
batch, you had no debt left but to Mrs Bydel; and, as the Baronet has
paid her, she's off our hands. So tell me whether there is any new one
that you have been running up since?'
Wounded, and nearly indignant at this demand, 'None!' Juliet
spontaneously answered; when catching a glance at Lord Melbury, who
involuntarily looked down, his purse and the fifteen guineas of Lady
Aurora, rushed upon her memory, and filled her again with visible
embarrassment.
'Good! good!' cried the pleased Mr Giles: 'you could not tell me better
news. But are there any poor souls, then, that you forgot to mention in
our last reckoning? Are there any old debts that you did not count?'
Inexpressibly hurt at a supposition so offensive to her sense of
probity, Juliet hastily repeated, 'No, Sir, there are none!' but, in
raising her head, and encountering the penetrating eyes of Harleigh, the
terrible recollection of the capital into which she had broken, and of
the large sum so long his due, struck cold to her heart; though it burnt
her cheeks with a dye of crimson.
Yet were these sensations nearly nugatory, compared with those which she
suffered the next instant, when Miss Bydel, suddenly perceiving the
direction upon the packet, read aloud 'For Albert Harleigh, Esq.'
Her exclamations, her blunt, unqualified interrogatories, and the
wonder, and simple ejaculations of Mr Giles Arbe, filled Juliet with a
confusion so intolerable, that she forced her arm from Miss Bydel, with
intention to insist upon publicly restoring the packet to Harleigh; but
Harleigh, confounded himself, had advanced towards the house, which,
frequently as they had stopt, they now insensibly reached; but from
which he would most willingly have retrograded, upon seeing Ireton
issue, laughing, into the portico.
The laugh of Ireton, whose gaiety was always derision, and whose
derision was always scandal, though it was innocently echoed by the
unsuspicious Mr Giles, was as alarming to the two gentlemen and to
Juliet, as it was offensive to Miss Bydel; who pettishly demanded, 'Pray
what are you laughing at, Mr Ireton? I should like to know that. If it
is at me, you may as well tell me at once, for I shall be sure to find
it out; because I always make a point of doing that.'
Ireton, seizing upon Harleigh, exclaimed 'What, Monsieur le Moniteur!
still hankering after our mysterious fair one?' when, perceiving the
wishes of Juliet, to pass on, he wantonly filled up the door-way.
Harleigh, who, also, could not but guess them, though he dared not look
at her, hoped, by delaying her entrance, to catch a moment's discourse:
but the youthful Lord Melbury, deeming all caution to be degrading, that
interfered with protection to a lovely female, openly desired that
Ireton would stand aside, and let the ladies enter the house.
'Most undoubtedly, my lord!' answered Ireton, making way, with an air of
significant acquiescence.
Miss Bydel, with a warm address of thanks to his lordship, whose
interference she received as a personal civility, said, 'This is like a
gentleman, indeed, my lord, and quite fit for a lord to do, to take the
part of us poor weak women, against people that keep one standing out in
the street, because they think of nothing but joking;' and then, telling
Juliet to follow her, 'I can do no less,' she added, as she entered the
hall, 'than be as good as my word to this poor young music-maker, to
save her a chiding, poor creature, for staying, dawdling, out so long;
when ten to one but poor Mrs Ireton has wanted her a hundred times, for
one odd thing or another. But I shall take all the fault upon myself for
the last part of the job, because I can't deny but I held her a minute
or two by the arm. But what she was gossipping about before we came up
to her, my good friend Mr Giles and I, is what I don't pretend to say;
though I should like to know very well; for it had but an odd
appearance, I must own; both your gentlemen having been talked of so
much, in the town, about this young person.'
The most pointed darts of wit, and even the poisoned shafts of malice,
are less disconcerting to delicacy, than the unqualified bluntness of
the curious under-bred; for that which cannot be imputed to a spirit of
sarcasm, or a desire of shining, passes, to the bye-standers, for
unvarnished truth. As such, the intimation of Miss Bydel was palpably
received by Ireton, and by Mr Giles; though with malevolent wilfulness
by the one, and, by the other, with the simplest credulity; while Lord
Melbury, Harleigh and Juliet, were too much ashamed to look up, and too
much confounded to attempt parrying so gross an attack.
Yet both Lord Melbury and Harleigh, urged invincibly by a desire of
knowing in what manner Juliet was to be patronized by her loquacious
mediatrix, and how they might themselves fare in the account,
irresistibly entered the mansion; though marvelling, each, at the
curiosity, and blaming the indiscretion of the other.
To avoid the aspersion of making a clandestine retreat, Juliet had
decided, however painful to her might be such an exertion, openly to
relinquish her situation with Mrs Ireton; but she by no means felt equal
to risking the irascibility of that lady before so many witnesses.
Nevertheless, when she would have glided from the party, Miss Bydel,
again seizing her arm, called out, 'Come, don't be afraid, Mrs Ellis:
I've promised to take your part, and I am always as good as my word;'
and then dragged, rather than drew her into the drawing-room; closely
attended by Lord Melbury, Harleigh, Mr Giles Arbe, and Ireton.