_An Accorder_
Thus, self-confined and almost in an agony, Camilla remained for a
quarter of an hour, without any species of interruption, and in the
greatest amazement that Lionel forbore pursuing her, either with letter
or message.
Another violent ringing at the bell, but still without any carriage,
then excited her attention, and presently the voice and steps of Lionel
resounded upon the stairs, whence her name was with violence
vociferated.
She did not move; and in another minute, he was rapping at her chamber
door, demanding admittance, or that she would instantly descend.
Alarmed for her open letter and papers, she inquired who was in the
parlour.
'Not a soul,' he answered; 'I have left them all at the Rooms.'
'Have you returned, then, twice?'
'No. I should have been here sooner, but I met two or three old cronies,
that would not part with me. Come, where's your letter?'
'Have you not seen what I have written?'
Down upon this intimation he flew, without any reply; but was presently
back, saying he found nothing in the parlour, except a letter to
herself.
Affrighted, she followed him; but not one of her papers remained. The
table was cleared, and nothing was to be seen but a large packet,
addressed to her in a hand she did not know.
She rang to inquire who had been in the house before her brother.
The servant answered, only Sir Sedley Clarendel, who he thought had been
there still, as he had said he should wait till Mrs. Arlbery came home.
'Is it possible,' cried she, 'that a gentleman such as Sir Sedley
Clarendel, can have permitted himself to touch my papers?'
Lionel agreed that it was shocking; but said the loss of time to himself
was still worse; without suffering her, therefore, to open her packet,
he insisted that she should write another letter directly; adding, he
had met the Baronet in his way from the Rooms, but had little suspected
whence he came, or how he had been amusing himself.
Camilla now hung about her brother in the greatest tribulation, but
refused to take the pen he would have put into her hands, and, at last,
not without tears, said: 'Forgive me, Lionel! but the papers you ought
to have found would have explained--that I cannot write for you to my
uncle.'
Lionel heard this with the indignation of an injured man. He was
utterly, he said, lost; and his family would be utterly disgraced, for
ruin must be the lot of his father, or exile or imprisonment must be his
own, if she persisted in such unkind and unnatural conduct.
Terrour now bereft her of all speech or motion, till the letter, which
Lionel had been beating about in his agitation, without knowing or
caring what he was doing, burst open, and some written papers fell to
the floor, which she recognised for her own.
Much amazed, she seized the cover, which had only been fastened by a
wafer that was still wet, and saw a letter within it to herself, which
she hastily read, while a paper that was enclosed dropt down, and was
caught by Lionel.
_To Miss_ Camilla Tyrold.
Forgive, fairest Camilla, the work of the Destinies. I came hither
to see if illness detained you; the papers which I enclose from
other curious eyes caught mine by accident. The pathetic sisterly
address has touched me. I have not the honour to know Mr. Lionel
Tyrold; let our acquaintance begin with an act of confidence on his
part, that must bind to him for ever his lovely sister's.
Most obedient and devoted
SEDLEY CLARENDEL.
The loose paper, picked up by Lionel, was a draft, upon a banker, for
two hundred pounds.
While this, with speechless emotion, was perused by Camilla, Lionel,
with unbounded joy, began jumping, skipping, leaping over every chair,
and capering round and round the room in an ecstasy.
'My dearest Lionel,' cried she, when a little recovered, 'why such joy?
you cannot suppose it possible this can be accepted.'
'Not accepted, child? do you think me out of my senses? Don't you see me
freed from all my misfortunes at once? and neither my father grieved,
nor my mother offended, nor poor numps fleeced?'
'And when can you pay it? And what do you mean to do? And to whom will
be the obligation? Weigh, weigh a little all this.'
Lionel heard her not; his rapture was too buoyant for attention, and he
whisked every thing out of its place, from frantic merriment, till he
put the apartment into so much disorder, that it was scarce practicable
to stir a step in it; now and then interrupting himself to make her low
bows, scraping his feet all over the room, and obsequiously saying: 'My
sister Clarendel! How does your La'ship do? my dear Lady Clarendel, pray
afford me your La'ship's countenance.'
Nothing could be less pleasant to Camilla than raillery which pointed
out, that, even by the unreflecting Lionel, this action could be
ascribed to but one motive. The draft, however, had fallen into his
hands, and neither remonstrance nor petition, neither representation of
impropriety nor persuasion, could induce him to relinquish it; he would
only dance, sing, and pay her grotesque homage, till the coach stopt at
the door; and then, ludicrously hoping her Ladyship would excuse his
leaving her, for once, to play the part of the house-maid, in setting
the room to rights, he sprang past them all, and bounded down the hill.
Mrs. Arlbery was much diverted by the confusion in the parlour, and Miss
Dennel asked a thousand questions why the chairs and tables were all
thrown down, the china jars removed from the chimney-piece into the
middle of the room, and the sideboard apparatus put on the chimney-piece
in their stead.
Camilla was too much confounded either to laugh or explain, and hastily
wishing them good-night, retired to her chamber.
Here, in the extremest perturbation, she saw the full extent of her
difficulties, without perceiving any means of extrication. She had no
hope of recovering the draft from Lionel, whom she had every reason to
conclude already journeying from Tunbridge. What could she say the next
day to Sir Sedley? How account for so sudden, so gross an acceptance of
pecuniary obligation? What inference might he not draw? And how could
she undeceive him, while retaining so improper a mark of his dependence
upon her favour? The displeasure she felt that he should venture to
suppose she would owe to him such a debt, rendered but still more
palpable the species of expectation it might authorise.
To destroy this illusion occupied all her attention, except what was
imperiously seized upon by regret of missing Edgar, with whom to consult
was more than ever her wish.
In this disturbed state, when she saw Mrs. Arlbery the next morning, her
whole care was to avoid being questioned: and that lady, who quickly
perceived her fears by her avoidance, took the first opportunity to say
to her, with a laugh, 'I see I must make no inquiries into the gambols
of your brother last night: but I may put together, perhaps, certain
circumstances that may give me a little light to the business: and if,
as I conjecture, Clarendel spoke out to him, his wildest rioting is more
rational than his sister's gravity.'
Camilla protested they had not conversed together at all.
'Nay, then, I own myself still in the dark. But I observed that
Clarendel left the Rooms at a very early hour, and that your brother
almost immediately followed.'
Camilla ventured not any reply; and soon after retreated.
Mrs. Arlbery, in a few minutes, pursuing her, laughingly, and with
sportive reproach, accused her of intending to steal a march to the
altar of Hymen; as she had just been informed, by her maid, that Sir
Sedley had actually been at the house last night, during her absence.
Camilla seriously assured her, that she was in her chamber when he
arrived, and had not seen him.
'For what in the world, then, could he come? He was sure I was not at
home, for he had left me at the Rooms?'
Camilla again was silent; but her tingling cheeks proclaimed it was not
for want of something to say. Mrs. Arlbery forbore to press the matter
further; but forbore with a nod that implied _I see how it is_! and a
smile that published the pleasure and approbation which accompanied her
self-conviction.
The vexation of Camilla would have prompted an immediate confession of
the whole mortifying transaction, had she not been endued with a sense
of honour, where the interests of others were concerned, that repressed
her natural precipitance, and was more powerful even than her
imprudence.
She waited the greatest part of the morning in some little faint hope of
seeing Lionel: but he came not, and she spent the rest of it with Mrs.
Berlinton. She anxiously wished to meet Edgar in the way, to apologise
for her non-appearance the preceding evening; but this did not happen;
and her concern was not lessened by reflecting upon the superior
interest in her health and welfare, marked by Sir Sedley, who had taken
the trouble to walk from the Rooms to Mount Pleasant to see what was
become of her.
She returned home but barely in time to dress for dinner, and was not
yet ready, when she saw the carriage of the Baronet drive up to the
door.
In the most terrible confusion how to meet him, what to say about the
draft, how to mention her brother, whether to seem resentful of the
liberty he had so unceremoniously taken, or thankful for its kindness,
she had scarce the force to attire herself, nor, when summoned down
stairs, to descend.
This distress was but increased upon her entrance, by the sight and the
behaviour of the Baronet; whose address to her was so marked, that it
covered her with blushes, and whose air had an assurance that spoke a
species of secret triumph. Offended as well as frightened, she looked
every way to avoid him, or assumed a look of haughtiness, when forced by
any direct speech to answer him. She soon, however, saw, by his
continued self-complacency, and even an increase of gaiety, that he only
regarded this as coquetry, or bashful embarrassment, since every time
she attempted thus to rebuff him, an arch smile stole over his features,
that displayed his different conception of her meaning.
She now wished nothing so much as a prompt and positive declaration,
that she might convince him of his mistake and her rejection. For this
purpose, she subdued her desire of retreat, and spent the whole
afternoon with Mrs. Arlbery and the Dennels in his company.
Nevertheless, when Mrs. Arlbery, who had the same object in view, though
with a different conclusion, contrived to draw her other guests out of
the apartment and to leave her alone with Sir Sedley, modesty and shame
both interfered with her desire of an explanation, and she was hastily
retiring; but the Baronet, in a gentle voice, called after her, 'Are you
going?'
'Yes, I have forgotten something....'
He rose to follow her, with a motion that seemed purporting to take her
hand; but, gliding quickly on, she prevented him, and was almost at the
same moment in her own chamber.
With augmented severity, she now felt the impropriety of an apparent
acceptance of so singular and unpleasant an obligation, which obviously
misled Sir Sedley to believe her at his command.
Shocked in her delicacy, and stung in her best notions of laudable
pride, she could not rest without destroying this humiliating idea; and
resolved to apply to Edgar for the money, and to pay the Baronet the
next day. Her objections to betraying the extravagance of Lionel, though
great and sincere, yielded to the still more dangerous evil of letting
Sir Sedley continue in an errour, that might terminate in branding her
in his opinion, with a character of inconsistency or duplicity.
Edgar, too, so nearly a brother to them both, would guard the secret of
Lionel better, in all probability, than he would guard it himself; and
could draw no personal inferences from the trust and obligation when he
found its sole incitement was sooner to owe an obligation to a ward of
her father, than to a new acquaintance of her own.
Pleased at the seeming necessity of an application that would lead so
naturally to a demand of the counsel she languished to claim, she
determined not to suffer Sir Sedley to wait even another minute under
his mistake; but, since she now could speak of returning the money, to
take courage for meeting what might either precede or ensue in a
conference.
Down, therefore, she went; but as she opened the parlour door, she heard
Sir Sedley say to Mrs. Arlbery, who had just entered before her: 'O,
fie! fie! you know she will be cruel to excruciation! you know me
destined to despair to the last degree.'
Camilla, whose so speedy re-appearance was the last sight he expected,
was too far advanced to retreat; and the resentment that tinged her
whole complexion shewed she had heard what he said, and had heard it
with an application the most offensive.
An immediate sensibility to his own impertinence now succeeded in its
vain display; he looked not merely concerned, but contrite; and, in a
voice softened nearly to timidity, attempted a general conversation, but
kept his eyes, with an anxious expression, almost continually fixed upon
her's.
Anger with Camilla was a quick, but short-lived sensation; and this
sudden change in the Baronet from conceit to respect, produced a change
equally sudden in herself from disdain to inquietude. Though mortified
in the first moment by his vanity, it was less seriously painful to her
than any belief that under it was couched a disposition towards a really
steady regard. With Mrs. Arlbery she was but slightly offended, though
certain she had been assuring him of all the success he could demand:
her way of thinking upon the subject had been openly avowed, and she did
justice to the kindness of her motives.
No opportunity, however, arose to mention the return of the draft; Mrs.
Arlbery saw displeasure in her air, and not doubting she had heard what
had dropt from Sir Sedley, thought the moment unfavorable for a
_tête-à-tête_, and resolutely kept her place, till Camilla herself,
weary of useless waiting, left the room.
Following her then to her chamber, 'My dear Miss Tyrold,' she cried, 'do
not let your extreme youth stand in the way of all your future life. A
Baronet, rich, young, and amiable, is upon the very point of becoming
your slave for ever; yet, because you discover him to be a little
restive in the last agonies of his liberty, you are eager, in the
high-flown disdain of juvenile susceptibility, to cast him and his
fortune away; as if both were such every-day baubles, that you might
command or reject them without thought of future consequence.'
'Indeed no, dear madam; I am not actuated by pride or anger; I owe too
much to Sir Sedley to feel either above a moment, even where I think
them ... pardon me!... justly excited. But I should ill pay my debt, by
accepting a lasting attachment, where certain I can return nothing but
lasting, eternal, unchangeable indifference.'
'You sacrifice, then, both him and yourself, to the fanciful delicacy of
a first love?'
'No, indeed!' cried she blushing. 'I have no thought at all but of the
single life. And I sincerely hope Sir Sedley has no serious intentions
towards me; for my obligations to him are so infinite, I should be
cruelly hurt to appear to him ungrateful.'
'You would appear to him, I confess, a little surprising,' said Mrs.
Arlbery, laughing; 'for diffidence certainly is not his weak part.
However, with all his foibles, he is a charming creature, and
prepossession only can blind you to his merit.'
Camilla again denied the charge, and strove to prevail with her to
undeceive the Baronet from any false expectations. But she protested she
would not be accessary to so much after-repentance; and left her.
The business now wore a very serious aspect to Camilla. Mrs. Arlbery
avowed she thought Sir Sedley in earnest, and he knew she had herself
heard him speak with security of his success. The bullfinch had gone
far, but the draft seemed to have riveted the persuasion. The bird it
was now impossible to return till her departure from Tunbridge; but she
resolved not to defer another moment putting upon her brother alone the
obligation of the draft, to stop the further progress of such dangerous
inference.
Hastily, therefore, she wrote to him the following note:
_To Sir_ Sedley Clarendel, _Bart._
SIR,
Some particular business compelled my brother so abruptly to quit
Tunbridge, that he could not have the honour to first wait upon you
with his thanks for the loan you so unexpectedly put into his
hands; by mine, however, all will be restored to-morrow morning,
except his gratitude for your kindness.
I am, sir, in both our names,
your obliged humble servant,
CAMILLA TYROLD.
MOUNT PLEASANT,
Thursday Evening.
She now waited till she was summoned down stairs to the carriage, and
then gave her little letter to a servant, whom she desired to deliver it
to Sir Sedley's man.
Sir Sedley did not accompany them to the Rooms, but promised to follow.
Camilla, on her arrival, with palpitating pleasure, looked round for
Edgar. She did not, however, see him. She was accosted directly by the
Major; who, as usual, never left her, and whose assiduity to seek her
favour seemed increased.
She next joined Mrs. Berlinton; but still she saw nothing of Edgar. Her
eyes incessantly looked towards the door, but the object they sought
never met them.
When Sir Sedley entered, he joined the group of Mrs. Berlinton.
Camilla tried to look at him and to speak to him with her customary
civility and chearfulness, and nearly succeeded; while in him she
observed only an expressive attention, without any marks of presumption.
Thus began and thus ended the evening. Edgar never appeared.
Camilla was in the utmost amaze and deepest vexation. Why did he stay
away? was his wrath so great at her own failure the preceding night,
that he purposely avoided her? what, also, could she do with Sir Sedley?
how meet him the next morning without the draft she had now promised?'
In this state of extreme chagrin, when she retired to her chamber, she
found the following letter upon her table:
_To Miss_ Camilla Tyrold.
Can you think of such a trifle? or deem wealth so truly
contemptible, as to deny it all honourable employment? Ah, rather,
enchanting Camilla! deign further to aid me in dispensing it
worthily!
SEDLEY CLARENDEL.
Camilla now was touched, penetrated, and distressed beyond what she had
been in any former time. She looked upon this letter as a positive
intimation of the most serious designs; and all his good qualities, as
painted by Mrs. Arlbery, with the very singular obligation she owed to
him, rose up formidably to support the arguments and remonstrances of
that lady; though every feeling of her heart, every sentiment of her
mind, and every wish of her soul, opposed their smallest weight.