EVELINA IN CONTINUATION. Oct. 6th.
AND now, my dearest Sir, if the perturbation of my spirits will allow
me, I will finish my last letter from Clifton Hill. This morning,
though I did not go down stairs early, Lord Orville was the only
person in the parlour when I entered it. I felt no small confusion
at seeing him alone, after having so long and successfully avoided
such a meeting. As soon as the usual compliments were over, I would
have left the room, but he stopped me by saying, "If I disturb you
Miss Anville, I am gone."
"My Lord," said I, rather embarrassed, "I did not mean to stay."
"I flattered myself," cried he, "I should have had a moment's
conversation with you."
I then turned back; and he seemed himself in some perplexity: but,
after a short pause, "You are very good," said he, "to indulge my
request; I have, indeed, for some time past, most ardently desired
an opportunity of speaking to you."
Again he paused; but I said nothing, so he went on.
"You allowed me, Madam, a few days since, you allowed me to lay
claim to your friendship,-to interest myself in your affairs,-to call
you by the affectionate title of sister;-and the honour you did me,
no man could have been more sensible of; I am ignorant, therefore,
how I have been so unfortunate as to forfeit it:-but, at present,
all is changed! you fly me,-your averted eye shuns to meet mine,
and you sedulously avoid my conversation."
I was extremely disconcerted at this grave, and but too just
accusation, and I am sure I must look very simple;-but I made no
answer.
"You will not, I hope," continued he, "condemn me unheard; if there
is any thing I have done,-or any thing I have neglected, tell me,
I beseech you, what, and it shall be the whole study of my thoughts
how to deserve your pardon."
"Oh, my Lord," cried I, penetrated at once with shame and gratitude,
"your too, too great politeness oppresses me!-you have done nothing,-I
have never dreamt of offence-if there is any pardon to be asked it
is rather for me, than for you to ask it."
"You are all sweetness and condescension!" cried he, "and I flatter
myself you will again allow me to claim those titles which I find
myself so unable to forego. Yet, occupied as I am, with an idea
that gives me the greatest uneasiness, I hope you will not think
me impertinent, if I still solicit, still intreat, nay implore, you
to tell me, to what cause your late sudden, and to me most painful,
reserve was owing?"
"Indeed, my Lord," said I, stammering, "I don't,-I can't,-indeed,
my Lord,-"
"I am sorry to distress you," said he, "and ashamed to be so
urgent,-yet I know not how to be satisfied while in ignorance,-and
the time when the change happened, makes me apprehend,-may I, Miss
Anville, tell you what it makes me apprehend?"
"Certainly, my Lord."
"Tell me, then,-and pardon a question most essentially important
to me;-Had, or had not, Sir Clement Willoughby any share in causing
your inquietude?"
"No, my Lord," answered I, with firmness, "none in the world."
"A thousand, thousand thanks!" cried he: "you have relieved me from a
weight of conjecture which I supported very painfully. But one thing
more; is it, in any measure, to Sir Clement that I may attribute the
alteration in your behaviour to myself, which, I could not but observe,
began the very day after his arrival at the Hot Wells?"
"To Sir Clement, my Lord," said I, "attribute nothing. He is the last
man in the world who would have any influence over my conduct."
"And will you, then, restore to me that share of confidence and favour
with which you honoured me before he came?"
Just then, to my great relief,-for I knew not what to say,-Mrs.
Beaumont opened the door, and in a few minutes we went to breakfast.
Lord Orville was all gaiety; never did I see him more lively or more
agreeable. Very soon after, Sir Clement Willoughby called, to pay
his respects, he said, to Mrs. Beaumont. I then came to my own room,
where, indulging my reflections, which, now soothed, and now alarmed
me, I remained very quietly, till I received your most kind letter.
Oh, Sir, how sweet are the prayers you offer for your Evelina! how
grateful to her are the blessings you pour upon her head!-You commit
me to my real parent,-Ah, Guardian, Friend, Protector of my youth,-by
whom my helpless infancy was cherished, my mind formed, my very life
preserved,-you are the Parent my heart acknowledges, and to you do
I vow eternal duty, gratitude, and affection!
I look forward to the approaching interview with more fear than hope;
but, important as is this subject, I am just now wholly engrossed
with another, which I must hasten to communicate.
I immediately acquainted Mrs. Selwyn with the purport of your
letter. She was charmed to find your opinion agreed with her own,
and settled that we should go to town to-morrow morning: and a chaise
is actually ordered to be here by one o'clock.
She then desired me to pack up my clothes; and said she must go
herself to make speeches and tell lies to Mrs. Beaumont.
When I went down stairs to dinner, Lord Orville, who was still in
excellent spirits, reproached me for secluding myself so much from
the company. He sat next me,-he would sit next me,-at table; and he
might, I am sure, repeat what he once said of me before, that he
almost exhausted himself in fruitless endeavours to entertain me;
-for, indeed, I was not to be entertained: I was totally spiritless
and dejected; the idea of the approaching meeting,-and Oh, Sir,
the idea of the approaching parting,-gave a heaviness to my heart
that I could neither conquer nor repress. I even regretted the half
explanation that had passed, and wished Lord Orville had supported
his own reserve, and suffered me to support mine.
However, when, during dinner, Mrs. Beaumont spoke of our journey,
my gravity was no longer singular; a cloud instantly overspread the
countenance of Lord Orville, and he became nearly as thoughtful and
as silent as myself.
We all went together to the drawing-room. After a short and
unentertaining conversation, Mrs. Selwyn said she must prepare for
her journey, and begged me to see for some books she had left in
the parlour.
And here, while I was looking for them, I was followed by Lord
Orville. He shut the door after he came in, and, approaching me with
a look of anxiety, said, "Is this true, Miss Anville, are you going?"
"I believe so, my Lord," said I, still looking for the books.
"So suddenly, so unexpectedly must I lose you?"
"No great loss, my Lord," cried I, endeavouring to speak cheerfully.
"Is it possible," said he gravely, "Miss Anville can doubt my
sincerity?"
"I can't imagine," cried I, "what Mrs. Selwyn has done with these
books."
"Would to Heaven," continued he, "I might flatter myself you would
allow me to prove it!"
"I must run up stairs," cried I, greatly confused, "and ask what she
has done with them."
"You are going, then," cried he, taking my hand, "and you give me not
the smallest hope of your return!-will you not, then, my too lovely
friend!-will you not, at least, teach me, with fortitude like your own,
to support your absence?"
"My Lord," cried I, endeavouring to disengage my hand, "pray let
me go!"
"I will," cried he, to my inexpressible confusion, dropping on one
knee, "if you wish to leave me!"
"O, my Lord," exclaimed I, "rise, I beseech you, rise!-such a posture
to me!-surely your Lordship is not so cruel as to mock me!"
"Mock you!" repeated he earnestly, "no I revere you! I esteem and
I admire you above all human beings! you are the friend to whom my
soul is attached as to its better half! you are the most amiable,
the most perfect of women! and you are dearer to me than language
has the power of telling."
I attempt not to describe my sensations at that moment; I scarce
breathed; I doubted if I existed,-the blood forsook my cheeks,
and my feet refused to sustain me: Lord Orville, hastily rising,
supported me to a chair, upon which I sunk, almost lifeless.
For a few minutes, we neither of us spoke; and then, seeing me recover,
Lord Orville, though in terms hardly articulate, intreated my pardon
for his abruptness. The moment my strength returned, I attempted to
rise, but he would not permit me.
I cannot write the scene that followed, though every word is
engraven on my heart; but his protestations, his expressions, were
too flattering for repetition: nor would he, in spite of my repeated
efforts to leave him, suffer me to escape:-in short, my dear Sir,
I was not proof against his solicitations-and he drew from me the
most sacred secret of my heart!
I know not how long we were together; but Lord Orville was upon his
knees, when the door was opened by Mrs. Selwyn!-To tell you, Sir,
the shame with which I overwhelmed, would be impossible;-I snatched
my hand from Lord Orville,-he, too, started and rose, and Mrs. Selwyn,
for some instants, stood facing us both in silence.
At last, "My Lord" said she, sarcastically, "have you been so good
as to help Miss Anville to look for my books?"
"Yes, Madam," answered he, attempting to rally, "and I hope we shall
soon be able to find them."
"Your Lordship is extremely kind," said she, drily, "but I can by
no means consent to take up any more of your time." Then looking on
the window-seat, she presently found the books, and added, "Come,
here are just three, and so like the servants in the Drummer, this
important affair may give employment to us all." She then presented
one of them to Lord Orville, another to me, and taking a third herself,
with a most provoking look, she left the room.
I would instantly have followed her; but Lord Orville, who could not
help laughing, begged me to stay a minute, as he had many important
matters to discuss.
"No, indeed, my Lord, I cannot,-perhaps I have already stayed too
long."
"Does Miss Anville so soon repent her goodness?"
"I scarce know what I do, my Lord,-I am quite bewildered!"
"One hour's conversation," cried he, "will, I hope, compose your
spirits, and confirm my happiness. When, then, may I hope to see you
alone?-shall you walk in the garden to-morrow before breakfast?"
"No, no, my Lord; you must not, a second time, reproach me with making
an appointment."
"Do you then," said he, laughing, "reserve that honour only for
Mr. Macartney?"
"Mr. Mccartney," said I, "is poor, and thinks himself obliged to me;
otherwise-"
"Poverty," cried he, "I will not plead; but, if being obliged to you
has any weight, who shall dispute my title to an appointment?"
"My Lord, I can stay no longer,-Mrs. Selwyn will lose all patience."
"Deprive her not of the pleasure of her conjectures,-but tell me,
are you under Mrs. Selwyn's care?"
"Only for the present, my Lord."
"Not a few are the questions I have to ask Miss Anville: among them,
the most important is, whether she depends wholly on herself, or
whether there is any other person for whose interest I must solicit?"
"I hardly know, my Lord, I hardly know myself to whom I most belong."
"Suffer, suffer me, then," cried he, with warmth, "to hasten the time
when that shall no longer admit a doubt!-when your grateful Orville
may call you all his own!"
At length, but with difficulty, I broke from him. I went, however, to
my own room, for I was too much agitated to follow Mrs. Selwyn. Good
God, my dear Sir, what a scene! surely the meeting for which I shall
prepare to-morrow cannot so greatly affect me! To be loved by Lord
Orville,-to be the honoured choice of his noble heart,-my happiness
seemed too infinite to be borne, and I wept, even bitterly I wept,
from the excess of joy which overpowered me.
In this state of almost painful felicity I continued till I was
summoned to tea. When I re-entered the drawing room, I rejoiced much
to find it full of company, as the confusion with which I met Lord
Orville was rendered the less observable.
Immediately after tea, most of the company played at cards,-and
then-till supper time, Lord Orville devoted himself wholly to me.
He saw that my eyes were red, and would not let me rest till he
made me confess the cause; and when, though most reluctantly, I had
acknowledged my weakness, I could with difficulty refrain from weeping
again at the gratitude he expressed.
He earnestly desired to know if my journey could not be postponed! and
when I no, entreated permission to attend me to town.
"Oh, my Lord," cried I, "what a request!"
"The sooner," answered he, "I make my devotion to you in public,
the sooner I may expect, from your delicacy, you will convince the
world you encourage no mere danglers."
"You teach me, then, my Lord, the inference I might expect, if
I complied."
"And can you wonder I should seek to hasten the happy time, when
no scruples, no discretion will demand our separation? and the most
punctilious delicacy will rather promote, than oppose, my happiness
in attending you?"
To this I was silent, and he re-urged his request.
"My Lord," said I, "you ask what I have no power to grant. This
journey will deprive me of all right to act for myself."
"What does Miss Anville mean?"
"I cannot now explain myself; indeed, if I could, the task would be
both painful and tedious."
"O, Miss Anville," cried he, "when may I hope to date the period of
this mystery? when flatter myself that my promised friend will indeed
honour me with her confidence?"
"My Lord," said I, "I mean not to affect any mystery,-but my affairs
are so circumstanced, that a long and most unhappy story can alone
explain them. However, if a short suspense will give your Lordship
any uneasiness,-"
"My beloved Miss Anville," cried he, eagerly, "pardon my
impatience!-You shall tell me nothing you would wish to conceal,-I
will wait your own time for information, and trust to your goodness
for its speed."
"There is nothing, my Lord, I wish to conceal,-to postpone an
explanation is all I desire."
He then requested, that, since I would not allow him to accompany
me to town, I would permit him to write to me, and promise to answer
his letters.
A sudden recollection of the two letters which had already passed
between us occurring to me, I hastily answered, "No, indeed, my Lord!-"
"I am extremely sorry," said he, gravely, "that you think me too
presumptuous. I must own I had flattered myself, that, to soften the
inquietude of an absence, which seems attended by so many inexplicable
circumstances, would not have been to incur your displeasure." This
seriousness hurt me; and I could not forbear saying, "Can you indeed
desire, my Lord, that I should, a second time, expose myself, by an
unguarded readiness, to write to you?"
"A second time! unguarded readiness!" repeated he; "you amaze me!"
"Has your Lordship then quite forgot the foolish letter I was so
imprudent as to send you when in town?"
"I have not the least idea," cried he, "of what you mean."
"Why then, my Lord," said I, "we had better let the subject drop."
"Impossible!" cried he, "I cannot rest without an explanation!"
And then, he obliged me to speak very openly of both the letters: but,
my dear Sir, imagine my surprise, when he assured me, in the most
solemn manner, that, far from having ever written me a single line,
he had never received, seen, or heard of my letter!
This subject, which caused mutual astonishment and perplexity to us
both, entirely engrossed us for the rest of the evening; and he made
me promise to show him the letter I had received in his name to-morrow
morning, that he might endeavour to discover the author.
After supper, the conversation became general.
And now, my dearest Sir, may I not call for your congratulations upon
the events of this day? a day never to be recollected by me but with
the most grateful joy! I know how much you are inclined to think well
of Lord Orville; I cannot, therefore, apprehend that my frankness to
him will displease you. Perhaps the time is not very distant, when
your Evelina's choice may receive the sanction of her best friend's
judgment and approbation,-which seems now all she has to wish!
In regard to the change in my situation which must first take place,
surely I cannot be blamed for what has passed! the partiality of Lord
Orville must not only reflect honour upon me, but upon all to whom
I do, or may belong.
Adieu, most dear Sir, I will write again when I arrive at London.