"I have, Madam," said he, "and the generous compassion you have shown
made me hasten to acquaint you, that, upon reading my unhappy mother's
letter, he did not hesitate to acknowledge me."
"Good God," cried I, with no little emotion, "how similar are our
circumstances! And did he receive you kindly?"
"I could not, Madam, expect that he would; the cruel, transaction,
which obliged me to fly to Paris, was recent in his memory."
"And,-have you seen the young lady?"
"No, Madam," said he, mournfully, "I was forbid her sight."
"Forbid her sight!-and why?"
"Partly, perhaps, from prudence,-and partly from the remains of a
resentment which will not easily subside. I only requested leave
to acquaint her with my relationship, and to be allowed to call her
sister;-but it was denied me! 'You have no sister,' said Sir John,
'you must forget her existence.' Hard and vain command!"
"You have-you have a sister!" cried I, from an impulse of pity, which
I could not repress; "a sister who is most warmly interested in your
welfare, and who only wants opportunity to manifest her friendship
and regard."
"Gracious Heaven!" cried he, "what does Miss Anville mean?"
"Anville," said I, "is not my real name; Sir John Belmont is my
father,-he is your's,-and I am your sister!-You see, therefore, the
claim we mutually have to each other's regard; we are not merely bound
by the ties of friendship, but by those of blood. I feel for you,
already, all the affection of a sister; I felt it, indeed, before
I knew I was one.-Why, my dear brother, do you not speak?-do you
hesitate to acknowledge me?"
"I am so lost in astonishment," cried he, "that I know not if I
hear right!"-
"I have, then, found a brother," cried I, holding out my hand,
"and he will not own me!"
"Own you!-Oh, Madam," cried he, accepting my offered hand, "is it
indeed possible you can own me? -a poor, wretched adventurer! who so
lately had no support but from your generosity?-whom your benevolence
snatched from utter destruction?-Can you,-Oh, Madam, can you, indeed,
and without a blush, condescend to own such an outcast for a brother?"
"Oh, forbear, forbear," cried I, "is this language proper for a
sister? are we not reciprocally bound to each other?-Will you not
suffer me to expect from you all the good offices in your power?-But
tell me, where is our father at present?"
"At the Hot-Wells, Madam; he arrived there yesterday morning."
I would have proceeded with further questions, but the entrance of
Lord Orville prevented me. The moment he saw us, he started, and
would have retreated; but, drawing my hand from Mr. Macartney's,
I begged him to come in.
For a few moments we were all silent, and, I believe, all in equal
confusion. Mr. Macartney, however, recollecting himself said "I hope
your Lordship will forgive the liberty I have taken in making use of
your name."
Lord Orville, rather coldly, bowed, but said nothing.
Again we were all silent, and then Mr. Macartney took leave.
"I fancy," said Lord Orville, when he was gone, "I have shortened Mr.
Macartney's visit?"
"No, my Lord, not at all."
"I had presumed," said he, with some hesitation, "I should have seen
Miss Anville in the garden;-but I knew not she was so much better
engaged."
Before I could answer, a servant came to tell me the chaise was ready,
and that Mrs. Selwyn was enquiring for me.
"I will wait on her immediately," cried I, and away I was running;
but Lord Orville, stopping me, said, with great emotion, "Is it thus,
Miss Anville, you leave me?"
"My Lord," cried I, "how can I help it?-perhaps, soon, some better
opportunity may offer-"
"Good Heaven!" cried he, "do you take me for a Stoic! what better
opportunity may I hope for?-is not the chaise come?-are you not
going? have you even deigned to tell me whither?"
"My journey, my Lord, will now be deferred. Mr. Macartney has brought
me intelligence which renders it at present unnecessary."
"Mr. Macartney," said he, gravely, "seems to have great influence;-yet
he is a very young counsellor."
"Is it possible, my Lord, Mr. Macartney can give you the least
uneasiness?"
"My dearest Miss Anville," said he, taking my hand, "I see, and I
adore the purity of your mind, superior as it is to all little arts,
and all apprehensions of suspicion; and I should do myself, as well as
you, injustice, if I were capable of harbouring the smallest doubts of
that goodness which makes you mine forever: nevertheless, pardon me,
if I own myself surprised,-nay, alarmed, at these frequent meetings
with so young a man as Mr. Macartney."
"My Lord," cried I, eager to clear myself, "Mr. Macartney is my
brother."
"Your brother! you amaze me!-What strange mystery, then, makes his
relationship a secret?"
Just then Mrs. Selwyn opened the door. "O, you are here!" cried she:
"Pray, is my Lord so kind as to assist you in preparing for your
journey, or in retarding it?"
"I should be most happy," said Lord Orville, smiling, "if it were in
my power to do the latter."