"Think'st thou I'll make a life of jealousy,
To follow still the changes of the moon
With fresh surmises? No; to be once in doubt
Is to be resolved. But yet
I'll see before I doubt: when I doubt, prove,
And on the proof there is no more but this--
Away at once with love or jealousy."--SHAKSPEARE.
Lord Mortimer had, in reality, departed with sentiments very unfavorable
to Amanda. He had waited impatiently at St. Catherine's, in the fond
expectation of having all his doubts removed by a candid explanation of
the motives which caused her precipitate journey from Wales. His soul
sighed for a reconciliation: his tenderness was redoubled by being so
long restrained. The idea of folding his beloved Amanda to his bosom,
and hearing that she deserved all the tenderness and sensibility which
glowed in that bosom for her, gave him the highest pleasure; but when
the appointed hour passed, and no Amanda appeared, language cannot
express his disappointment. Almost distracted by it, he ventured to
inquire concerning her from Sister Mary; and, long after the friendly
nun had retired to the convent, continued to wander about the ruins,
till the shadows of night had enveloped every object from his view. "She
fears to come, then," exclaimed he, quitting the desolate spot,
oppressed with the keenest anguish; "she fears to come, because she
cannot satisfy my doubts. I witnessed her agitation, her embarrassment,
this morning, when I hinted at them. The mystery which separated us will
not be explained, and it is in vain to think we shall ever meet, as I
once flattered myself we should."
This thought seemed to strike at all his hopes. The distress and
disorder of his mind was depicted on his countenance, and escaped not
the observation and raillery of the marchioness and Lady Euphrasia; but
their raillery was in vain, and unanswered by him; he was absorbed in a
train of pensive reflections, which they had neither power to remove or
disturb.
Most unwillingly he accompanied them the ensuing day to a splendid
entertainment given purposely for them in the neighborhood. The
unexpected sight of Amanda, as she stood on a little elevated bank, to
avoid the carriage, caused a sudden emotion of surprise and delight in
his bosom. The utmost powers of eloquence could not have pleaded her
cause so successfully as her own appearance at that minute did. The
languor of her face, its mild and seraphic expression, her pensive
attitude, and the timid modesty with which she seemed shrinking from
observation, all touched the sensibility of Lord Mortimer, awakened his
softest feelings, revived his hopes, and made him resolve to seek
another opportunity of demanding an explanation from her. The sudden
color which flushed his cheeks, and the sparkling of his eyes, as he
looked from the carriage, attracted the notice of his companions. They
smiled maliciously at each other, and Lady Euphrasia declared, "She
supposed the girl was stationed there to try and attract admiration,
which, perhaps, her silly old father had told her she merited--or else
to meet with adventures." Lord Mortimer drew in his head, and the
contrast between her ladyship and the fair being he had been looking at,
never struck him so forcibly as at that moment, and lessened one as much
as it elevated the other in his estimation.
He wandered near the castle the next evening, in hopes of meeting
Amanda. His disappointment was diminished by seeing Ellen, who he was
confident, would be faithful to the message intrusted to her. With this
confidence he hastened to the rocks, every moment expecting the
appearance of Amanda. Her image, as it appeared to him the preceding
day, dwelt upon his imagination, and he forcibly felt how essential to
his peace was a reconciliation with her. An hour elapsed, and his
tenderness again began to give way to resentment. It was not Ellen, but
Amanda he doubted. He traversed the beach in an agony of impatience and
anxiety; a feverish heat pervaded his frame, and he trembled with
agitation. At length he heard the distant sound of the supper-bell at
Ulster Lodge, which never rang till a late hour. All hopes of seeing
Amanda were now given up, and every intention of meeting her at a future
period relinquished. She avoided him designedly, it was evident. He
would have cursed himself for betraying such anxiety about her, and his
wounded pride revolted from the idea of seeking another interview. "No!
Amanda!" he exclaimed, as he passed the castle, "you can no longer have
any claim upon me. Mysterious appearances in the most candid mind will
raise suspicions. In giving you an opportunity for accounting for such
appearances, I did all that candor, tenderness, sensibility, and honor
could dictate; and, instead of again making efforts to converse with
you, I must now make others, which, I trust, will be more successful,
entirely to forget you."
The next morning he accompanied the marquis in his barge to the frigate,
where he was agreeably surprised to find in the commander an old friend
of his, Captain Somerville, who returned to Ulster Lodge with his
visitors, and there, in a half jesting, half serious manner, asked Lord
Mortimer to accompany him on his intended cruise. This his lordship
instantly promised he would, with pleasure. He was completely tired of
the Roslin family, and was, besides, glad of an opportunity of
convincing Amanda he was not quite so fascinated to her as she perhaps
believed, by his quitting the neighborhood ere their departure. As he
descended to the boat, the sight of Amanda shook his resolution. She
seemed destined to cross his path, merely to give him disquietude. An
ardent wish sprung in his heart to address her, but it was instantly
suppressed, by reflecting how premeditately she had avoided him; pride,
therefore, prompted him to pass her in silence; yet, as the boat receded
from the shore, his eyes were riveted to the spot on which she stood,
and when he could no longer see her white gown fluttering in the wind,
he gave a sigh to the remembrance of the happy days he had passed with
her at Tudor Hall; and another to the idea, that such hours would never
more be enjoyed by him.
The family at Ulster Lodge were both mortified and disappointed by his
departure, though he, perceiving their displeasure, had endeavored to
lessen it, by promising to wait their arrival in Dublin, and return with
them to England. His departure seemed a tacit intimation that he was not
as much attached to Lady Euphrasia as they wished him to be. A suspicion
of this nature had, indeed, for some time pervaded their minds, and also
that his affections were elsewhere disposed of: they had reason to
believe that the person who possessed them dwelt in the vicinity of the
lodge, from the great alteration which took place in his manner,
immediately after his arrival at it. In hopes of discovering who this
was, they watched him critically at all the parties he frequented with
them, but soon found it was not the present, but the absent objects had
the power of exciting emotions in him. At the name of Amanda Fitzalan or
her father they observed him color, and frequently saw him contemplate
Castle Carberry, as if it contained a being infinitely dear to him; to
Amanda, therefore, they feared he was attached, and supposed the
attachment commenced at the Kilcorbans' ball, where they had noticed his
impassioned glances at this hated, because too lovely relation. The most
unbounded rage took possession of their souls; they regretted ever
having come to Ireland, where they supposed Lord Mortimer had first seen
Amanda, as Lord Cherbury had mentioned the children of Fitzalan being
strangers to him or his family. They knew the passions of Lord Cherbury
were impetuous, and that ambition was the leading principle of his soul.
Anxious for an alliance between his family and theirs, they knew he
would ill brook any obstacle which should be thrown in the way of its
completion, and therefore resolved, if Lord Mortimer, at their next
meeting, appeared averse to the wishes of his father, to acquaint the
earl with the occasion of his son's disinclination, and represent
Fitzalan and his daughter as aiding and abetting each other, in an
insidious scheme to entangle the affections of Lord Mortimer, and draw
him into a marriage; a scheme which, to a man of the world (as they knew
Lord Cherbury to be), would appear so very probable as to gain implicit
credit. This they knew would convert the esteem he felt for Fitzalan
into hatred and contempt; his favor would consequently be withdrawn, and
the father and child again sunk into indigent obscurity. To think that
Amanda, by dire necessity, should be reduced to servitude; to think the
elegance of her form should be disguised by the garb of poverty, and the
charms of her face faded by misery, were ideas so grateful, so ecstatic
to their hearts, that to have them realized, they felt they could with
pleasure relinquish the attentions of Lord Mortimer, to have a pretext
for injuring Fitzalan with his father: though not quite assured their
suspicions were well founded, they would never have hesitated
communicating them as such to Lord Cherbury; but for their own
satisfaction they wished to know what reason they had to entertain them.
Lady Greystock was the only person they observed on a footing of
intimacy with Amanda, and through her means flattered themselves they
might make the desired discovery. They therefore began to unbend from
their haughtiness, and make overtures for an intimacy with her;
overtures which she received with delight, and in their present
attention forgot their past neglect, which had given her such disgust.
As they became intimate with her, they were much amused by a shrewd
manner she possessed of telling stories, and placing the foibles and
imperfections of their visitors in the most conspicuous and ludicrous
light; particularly of such visitors as were not agreeable to them. With
the foibles of human nature she was well acquainted, also with the art
of turning those foibles to her own advantage. She perceived the
egregious vanity of the marchioness and Lady Euphrasia, and by
administering large portions of what Sterne styles the delicious essence
of the soul, to them, soon became an immense favorite. After an
injunction of secrecy, the marchioness communicated her fears relative
to Lord Mortimer and Amanda, which, she pretended, regard for one and
pity for the other, had excited; as an attachment either of an honorable
or dishonorable nature, she knew Lord Cherbury would never pardon. To
know, therefore, how far matters had proceeded between them, would be
some satisfaction, and might, perhaps, be the means of preventing the
ill consequences she dreaded. Lady Greystock was not to be imposed on;
she perceived it was not pity for Amanda, but envy and jealousy, which
had excited the fears of the marchioness. If Lord Mortimer was attached
to Amanda, from his sentiments and manner, she was convinced it was an
attachment of the purest nature. She carefully concealed her thoughts,
however, affected to enter into all the alarms of the marchioness, and,
as she saw she was expected to do, promised all in her power should be
done for discovering what attachment subsisted between his lordship and
Miss Fitzalan. For this purpose she began to grow constant in her visits
at Castle Carberry, often spending whole days in the most familiar
manner with Amanda, and endeavoring, by various methods, to beguile her
of the secrets of her heart. Sometimes she rallied her on her
melancholy; sometimes expressed pity for it in strains of the most
soothing tenderness; would frequently relate little fictitious and
embellished anecdotes of her own youth, in which she said she had
suffered the most exquisite misery, from an unfortunate entanglement;
would then advert to Lord Mortimer; express her wonder at his
precipitate departure, and her admiration of his virtues, declaring if
ever Lady Euphrasia gained his heart, which she much doubted, she must
be considered as one of the most fortunate of women.
Delicacy sealed the lips of Amanda and guarded her secret. She believed
her passion to be hopeless, and felt that to be offered consolation on
such a subject, would, to her feelings, be truly humiliating. But though
she could command her words, she could not her feelings, and they were
visibly expressed in her countenance. She blushed whenever Lord Mortimer
was mentioned; looked shocked if a union between him and Lady Euphrasia
was hinted at; and smiled if a probability was suggested of its never
taking place. Lady Greystock, at last, relinquished her attempts at
betraying Amanda into a confession of her sentiments; indeed, she
thought such a confession not very requisite, as her countenance pretty
clearly developed what they were; and she deemed herself authorized to
inform the marchioness that she was sure something had passed between
Lord Mortimer and Amanda, though what she could not discover, from the
circumspection of the latter. The marchioness was enraged, and more
determined than ever on involving Amanda in destruction, if Lord
Mortimer hesitated a moment in obeying the wishes of his father, by
uniting himself to Lady Euphrasia.