Lady Anne Mellent was seated alone in her drawing-room, in the large
and handsome town-house which had been inhabited for many years by her
father and grandfather. She looked less gay--more thoughtful than
usual. Perhaps the weather might have some share in depressing; for
most people born in England are more or less barometers, and subject
to be raised or depressed by the state of the atmosphere.
Foreigners, I believe, generally imagine that the cause of two
Englishmen, as soon as they meet, beginning to talk of the weather, is
that they have nothing else to talk of; or that the variation of our
changeable climate is the most prominent fact in the natural history
of the land; or because the weather is the only open question, free
from all tinge of the party spirit which affects all other things in
our native country. But the real cause lies deeper. It is, that
in almost all instances the fibres of an Englishman's body are
affected by the changes of the weather, like the strings of a fine
instrument--more or less, of course, according to the constitution of
the individual. But still, as I have said, in most men it is so; and
the mind, being in tune or out of tune in consequence, emits sounds
accordingly.
Now, one of the strange vicissitudes of climate had taken place which
are so common under our skies. A day or two of fine, clear summer
weather had been succeeded by a morning covered with thick grey
clouds, while the east wind hurried a sort of dim and filmy mist
through the air, cutting to the marrow all who exposed themselves to
its influence. It was the true picture of a reverse of fortune--the
summer sun of prosperity clouded, dim uncertainty pervading the
atmosphere, and the cold and cutting blast of ingratitude, and
neglect, and contemptuous pity chilling the very soul.
Nevertheless, although I do not mean to say that Lady Anne Mellent was
not at all affected by the weather, yet her grave and meditative mood
had other, stronger causes. She had a great deal to think of just
then; and she leaned her fair brow upon her hand, the thick glossy
ringlets falling over her taper fingers, and her eyes fixed upon a
sheet of writing-paper, whereon her other hand was fancifully
sketching all sorts of strange figures. Her mind had nothing to do
with what her hand was about or what her eye was fixed upon. I do not
know what part or portion of the strange mixed whole, expressed by the
little monosyllable man, it is that occupies itself with trifles,
while the high spirits, the sensitive soul, and the intellectual mind
are engaged in reasonings deep of other, mightier things; but so it
often is, that when the brain and heart are most busy with strong
thoughts, something--I know not what--gives employment to the
corporeal faculties: just as a nurse amuses a sick child with
playthings while two learned doctors are consulting of its state.
Thus it was now with Lady Anne. Her mind saw not the things she was
drawing--the dancing men and women, the flowers, the fruits, the
trees, the wild and graceful arabesques, the ruined towns and castles,
the volutes, the capitals, the columns: she had not an idea of what
she was about; but, deep in some little chamber of the brain, with the
doors and windows closed, while Imagination held a taper and Memory
spread out a map before her, the mind sat and studied the chart of the
past, trying to lay out plans for carrying on into the unexplored
future the roads along which her destiny had hitherto run.
She was startled from her reverie by a servant opening the
drawing-room door and announcing Mr. Charles Marston; and, raising her
head, with a slight glow upon her cheek, she held out her hand to him
with frank and kindly greeting.
"Well, you have come to see me at length," she said, "and I suppose I
must take your yesterday's apologies in good part, especially as I
find that one of the two letters did arrive; and I have been reading
this morning all the nonsense it contains, with a great deal of
interest and satisfaction. There is nothing in the world like
nonsense, either for pleasure or amusement. Sense is so hard, so
square, and so sharp in the points, that it is always scratching one
somewhere. I am sure Adam and Eve must have been talking nonsense to
each other all day long in paradise, otherwise it would not have been
half so pleasant a place as it is represented."
Charles Marston took a seat by her side, with a very faint smile,
saying--
"I am afraid, dear Lady Anne, that I must give up nonsense for the
future, and devote myself to dull, hard, dry sense."
"Stir the fire, Charles Marston," replied his fair companion:
"the cold east wind has made you melancholy. Now, for the last
three-quarters of an hour I have myself been much more sober and
reflective than is at all proper and right, and I do not choose to be
encouraged in such bad habits by the seriousness of anybody else."
"What can have made _you_ serious?" asked Charles Marston, in a tone
of doubt, his eyes fixed upon the paper on which Lady Anne had been
sketching. "Your gravity must have been somewhat frolicsome."
"Good heaven! did I draw all that?" she exclaimed, looking down at the
paper to which he pointed. "I was not in the least aware of it."
"Nay, then you must have been serious indeed," replied Charles
Marston, with a tone both of surprise and sympathy. "What can have
happened to oppress your light heart?"
"What can have happened to oppress yours, Charles?" rejoined Lady
Anne. "Something must have occurred, I am sure; for, though I have
known you from childhood, I never saw you in such a mood till now.
What is it?"
"A change of fortune, dear Lady Anne," he said, "implying the
relinquishment of the dearest and fondest hopes my heart ever
entertained--hopes and wishes which, though treated gaily, lightly
perhaps, were not the less deeply rooted, the less profoundly felt."
He paused for a moment, as if summoning strength to go on with a task
that nearly overpowered him, and she sat gazing on his face with a
look of anxious alarm. At length he proceeded--
"I have loved you, Lady Anne, deeply, sincerely, well, I can assure
you----"
"I know all that," she exclaimed, resuming for a moment her gay and
sparkling manner: "you told me so twelve months ago, in Rome; you told
me so years ago, when I was a foolish girl of thirteen; and I believed
you both times. What have I done that you should cease to love me
now?"
"Cease to love you!" exclaimed Charles Marston. "I love you
better--more dearly than ever: just as one prizes a jewel, the last
possession that one has, which he knows must be parted with soon."
"No, you do not love me," she said, "or you would not keep me in
suspense. What has happened, Charles?--tell me at once what has
happened."
"It can be done in very few words," he replied. "When I told you in
Rome how I loved you, I myself possessed a considerable fortune,
settled upon me by my father at the time of my mother's death--what
she inherited from her father. At that time I believed that, sooner or
later, very considerable wealth in addition must be mine; and,
although that fact could not change the difference between your rank
and mine, yet it in some degree justified me in seeking your hand, and
might have justified you in giving it to one who had known and loved
you, as you say, from childhood. Well, well!" he continued, seeing her
make an impatient gesture as if to hurry his tale; "the rest is soon
told. This morning, my uncle, in the most unkind and indifferent
manner, informed me that my father was a bankrupt. I need not tell
you, Lady Anne, who I think know me well, that my first act must be to
restore to my father the income he settled upon me. I will not,
indeed, throw my mother's fortune into the hands of his creditors, for
that I do not feel myself called upon to do; but the income of course
is his for his life."
"Well?" said Lady Anne, as if she did not see the deduction which he
would draw.
"I must, of course," continued Charles, "embrace some pursuit in order
to raise the fallen fortunes of my family. That is painful enough, for
one of my habits and character; but there remains the still more
painful task of abandoning those hopes which you once permitted me to
entertain, of giving you back every engagement and every promise you
made me, and nerving my mind to all that must follow."
"Nonsense!" exclaimed Lady Anne: "how long is it since you heard this
news?"
"Not an hour ago," he answered. "I determined to come hither at once,
and do what was right by you, though I passed nearly an hour in the
park, struggling with thoughts which well-nigh drove me mad."
"You should have come here directly," she answered, in a quiet tone,
"and I would have taught you to overcome such thoughts, by showing you
what weak and foolish thoughts they were. I was praising nonsense just
now; but what I meant was merry, not sad nonsense. Now, this is very
sad nonsense indeed. Do you pretend to know me?--do you pretend to
love me?--do you pretend to esteem me, and yet suppose that any
accidental change of circumstances, any mere pitiful reverse of
fortune, would justify me in my own eyes for wishing to withdraw from
engagements formed with as little consideration of wealth upon my part
as upon yours? I do you full justice, Charles, and believe that you
cared no more for my fortune when you asked my hand than I would do
for the crown of England. I believed, and do believe, that you would
have sought me for your wife, that you would still seek me for your
wife, if I had little or nothing; and you have done very wrong, even
for one moment to look upon this event except as a misfortune which
affects us both. I cannot treat this subject so lightly as I might do
most others, because I know what has occurred must be very painful
to you on your good father's account; but, thank God, what I do
possess, although not so large as is generally supposed, is still
affluence--nay, wealth. Make over your income to your father as you
propose. That will be abundant for him, and you will share mine."
Charles Marston laid his hand upon hers, and gazed at her with deep
affection; but he still hesitated.
"Every one will say," he replied, "and your guardians above all, that
you have thrown yourself away upon a fortune-hunter."
"I am my own guardian," she answered, with a gay laugh: "thank God, on
the twenty-third of last month I arrived at the discreet age of
one-and-twenty. So you have no excuse, sir. I see clearly that you do
not wish to marry me; that you are fickle, faithless, and false to all
your vows; that you have fallen in love with some Greek, or some
Circassian, or some lady Turk. But I will have a distinct answer,
Charles Marston, before you quit this room. You shall say 'yes' or
'no.' If you say 'yes,' well and good--there is peace between us; but
if you say 'no,' I will prosecute you for a breach of promise of
marriage, and produce all your letters in open court. I can establish
a clear case against you; so think of the consequences before you
decide."
She spoke gaily and cheerfully; but when Charles's arm glided round
her waist, and he pressed his answer on her lips, Lady Anne's eyes
overflowed with tears.
"You have treated me very ill, Charles," she said, "and I shall not
forgive you for the next half-hour. How could you think so meanly and
so basely of me? Did I ever talk to you about settlements, or
stipulate for pin-money, or require that you should bring an equal
share to the housekeeping with myself? or did I set others on to do
that which I was ashamed to do? Fie, fie!--do not attempt to justify
it, for it was unjustifiable. I am glad of it, for one thing," she
added, dashing the tears from her eyes, and looking up with one of her
sparkling laughs. "If ever I want to tease you, it will give me
something to reproach you with. You shan't hear the last of it for
some time, I can assure you; and I'll tell dear Lady Fleetwood how
mercenary you are, and that you think marriage is merely a matter of
property--that people should be perfectly equal in that respect at
least. Then, how she will scold you! But now tell me all about it. Let
me hear how your delightful uncle communicated this pleasant
intelligence. He always puts me more in mind of the statue in 'Don
Giovanni' than anything of flesh and blood I ever saw. I will answer
for it, he told the whole as if he were an iceberg and every word were
snow."
"Something like it, indeed," answered Charles; "but yet there was a
keen, frosty wind coming from the iceberg, which was very cutting."
And he proceeded to give his fair companion a more detailed account of
his conversation with his uncle, taking care to avoid that part of the
discussion which had referred to Maria Monkton.
Women's eyes are very keen, however; and there is something
approaching to instinct in the clearness of their perceptions with
regard to everything where other women are concerned. It is only
jealousy that ever blinds them, and there they are as blind as the
rest of the world.
But Lady Anne was not jealous of Maria, and therefore she seemed to
divine in a moment what had been Mr. Scriven's principal scheme.
Charles had merely said, "He proposed to me several plans of action,
none of which suited me."
"One of them, I am sure," said Lady Anne, "was to marry your cousin
Maria. Dear Maria! how often people have settled that for her! But I
could tell good Mr. Scriven, even if you had been willing, his scheme
would not have succeeded. Maria is in love, Charles; Maria is in
love!"
Charles Marston started and looked surprised.
"With whom?" he exclaimed.
"Nay, it is hardly fair to tell you," replied Lady Anne, "and I will
keep you in suspense, as you kept me just now: moreover, I will tease
you about it, ungrateful man! Watch me well, Charles, for the next two
or three weeks; and if you see me flirt unconscionably with any man,
while Maria stands calm and self-satisfied by, be you sure that man is
her lover, and think that I am trying to win him from her, if you
dare."
Charles laid his hand upon hers, and gazed confidently into her eyes.
"You cannot make me jealous if you would," he said; "I know you too
well."
"And yet you would not condescend to give Colonel Middleton a letter
to me," replied Lady Anne, with a meaning smile.
"Simply because I did not feel myself entitled to take such a
liberty," replied Charles Marston, "without at least telling him our
relative situation towards each other, which you forbade me to mention
to any one till you were of age. So, so, then! Frank Middleton is the
man of Maria's heart, is he? It must have been very rapid, or I must
have misunderstood her; for I think she told me he had only delivered
my letter the day before yesterday."
"Oh! he conquers exceedingly quickly," exclaimed his fair companion.
"It is quite true he only delivered the letter the day before
yesterday, and yet Maria is over head and ears in love with him, and
will marry him, as you will see. I was introduced to him the same day;
and, though not quite in love with him, do you know, my dear Charles,
I was so smitten that I asked him to dine with me yesterday, which he
accordingly did. We had the pleasantest evening possible, quite
_tête-à-tête_; for, although good old Mrs. Brice sat out the dinner
very patiently, yet she went to her own room as usual immediately
after, and left him to make me a proposal if he thought fit. He did
not do it, which, after all the encouragement I gave him, was very
singular; but you men are the most ungrateful creatures in the
world--of that I am convinced. There, now--make the most of it, for
you shall not have one word of explanation from me till I think fit;
and you shall see me go on every day with this Colonel Middleton as
wildly and as madly as I please, without being in the least
jealous--unless I permit you."
Charles caught her in his arms, exclaiming in his old, gay, reckless
tone, "I defy you, little tormentor! I have a great mind to punish you
for your sauciness by kissing you till you carry the marks upon your
lips and cheeks all over London." But then, gently relaxing his
embrace, he added in a softer and sadder tone, "After the proofs of
love you have given me, dear Anne, I could not doubt you, do what you
would; and in despite of all you say, I know you would not pain me for
a moment, even by a word or look."
"Be not pained then, dear Charles," she answered; "and be sure that
for whatever you see I have a motive, and a strong one."
"I shall see very little, I fear," replied Charles Marston; "for,
except during a short morning visit here, and an occasional party at
dear aunt Fleetwood's, I shall seldom meet with you till I have forced
my way into the gay world again, after an eighteen months' absence,
which is quite sufficient to make all the affectionate people in
London forget one."
"Come here and dine every day, if you will," replied Lady Anne,
laughing. "I care not who knows it now, and only cared before,
Charles, because I hate lectures, and dislike opposition when I am
determined to have my own way. If you meet Frank Middleton here, you
will, of course, be very civil to him; and if I want to speak to him
alone, I can take him into another room, you know."
"Of course--of course," answered Charles, in the same tone of light
_badinage_; "but I have another task upon my hands, which I must now
run away to fulfil--that of nursing my poor friend Winkworth."
This announcement called forth questions, which again required
replies; and after hearing the whole story, Lady Anne exclaimed--
"Get him well as soon as possible, for I intend to make you all come
down and spend a happy week with me in the country--either at Harley,
or Belford, or Caermarthen, or somewhere--Lady Fleetwood, and Maria,
and you, and Middleton, and Mr. Winkworth, and all. I took a great
liking to that old man, Charles, so you must engage him for me."
Charles Marston promised to obey; and after a few more words, with
which, perhaps, the reader may have little to do, he was taking his
departure, and had already reached the door of the drawing-room, when
Lady Anne called him back.
"Charles! Charles!" she said, "I want to speak to you. And now,
remember, I am talking seriously for once in my life: I am going to
make a declaration, so remember it. It is somewhat unusual, and rather
the reverse of what ordinarily takes place; but no matter. I love you
truly and sincerely, and none but you;" and she laid her hand
affectionately upon his arm, adding, "I never shall love any other;
and I say this because your confidence, without any wish on my part to
put it to the proof, may be tried somewhat severely."
"It will stand the test," answered Charles Marston. "I were unworthy
of your love, dear Anne, if I could doubt you for a moment."