"Thus let me hold thee to my heart,
And every care resign;
And shall we never--never part,
Oh! thou my all that's mine."--GOLDSMITH.
Joy is as great an enemy to repose as anxiety. Amanda passed an almost
sleepless night, but her thoughts were too agreeably employed to allow
her to suffer from want of rest; early as she arose in the morning, she
was but a short time in the parlor before Lord Mortimer arrived. He
appeared with all the transports of his soul beaming from his eyes, and
was received by Amanda with tender and trembling emotion. He caught her
to his heart as a treasure restored to him by the immediate hand of
Heaven. He pressed her to it with silent ecstasy. Both for a few moments
were unable to speak; but the tears which burst from Amanda, and those
that stopped on the glowing cheeks of Lord Mortimer, expressed their
feelings more forcibly than any language could have done.
Amanda at length found utterance, and began to thank his lordship for
all the difficulties he had gone through in vindicating her fame. He
hastily stopped those effusions of gratitude, by bidding her ask her
heart whether he had not been serving himself as well as her by what he
had done.
From the soft confusion into which his transports threw her, Amanda
endeavored to recover herself by repairing to the breakfast table, on
which the good sisters had spread all the niceties (adapted for a
morning repast) which the convent could produce: but her hand was
unsteady, she spilt the tea in pouring it out, and committed twenty
blunders in helping Lord Mortimer. He laughed a little archly at her
embarrassment, and insisted on doing the honors of the table himself, to
which Amanda, with a deep blush, consented; but breakfast was little
attended to. Amanda's hand was detained in Lord Mortimer's, while his
eyes were continually turning towards her, as if to assure his heart
that, in the lovely evidence of his happiness, there was no deception;
and the tenderness Amanda had no longer reason to restrain beamed from
her looks, which also evinced her perfect sensibility of her present
felicity--a felicity heightened by her approving conscience testifying
she had merited it. The pure, the delightful satisfaction resulting from
this reflection gave such radiance to her complexion, that Lord Mortimer
repeatedly declared her residence at St. Catherine's had made her more
beautiful than ever. Twelve o'clock struck, and found them still
loitering over the breakfast table. "The nuns will think we have made a
tolerable feast," cried Lord Mortimer, smiling, while Amanda rose with
precipitation. "I need not," continued he, following her, "like Sterne,
ask nature what has made the meal so delicious; I need only ask my own
heart, and it will inform me, love and tenderness." Amanda blushed, and
they went together into the garden. She would have walked before the
windows of the convent, but Lord Mortimer forced her gently into a dark,
sequestered alley. Here their conversation became more connected than it
had been hitherto. The generous intentions of Lady Martha Dormer, and
the arrangements she had made for the reception and nuptials of Amanda,
were talked over. The marriage was to take place at Thornbury, Lady
Martha's seat; they were to continue there for a month after its
solemnization, and from thence to go to an estate of Lord Cherbury's for
the remainder of the summer; a house in one of the squares was to be
taken and prepared for their residence in winter, and Lady Martha Dormer
had promised, whenever she came to town, which was but seldom, she would
make their house her home, provided they would promise to spend every
Christmas, and three months at least in summer, with her at Thornbury.
Lord Mortimer said he had his choice of any of the earl's seats, but
chose none, from an idea of the Hall being more agreeable to Amanda. She
assured him it was, and he proceeded to mention the presents which Lady
Martha had prepared for her, also the carriages and retinue he had
provided, and expected to find at Thornbury against she reached it,
still asking if the arrangements he had made met her approbation.
Amanda was affected even to tears by the solicitude he showed to please
her; and he, perceiving her emotions, changed the discourse to talk
about her removal from St. Catherine's. He entreated her not to delay it
longer than was absolutely necessary to adjust matters for it. She
promised compliance to this entreaty, acknowledging that she but obeyed
her inclinations in doing so, as she longed to be presented to her
generous patroness, Lady Martha, and to her amiable and beloved Lady
Araminta. Lord Mortimer, delicately considerate about all which
concerned her, begged she would speak to the prioress to procure a
decent female, who should be a proper attendant for her in her journey.
They should travel together in one chaise, and he would follow them in
another. Amanda promised she would lose no time in making this request,
which, she had no doubt, would be successful.
Lord Mortimer presented her with a very beautiful embroidered purse,
containing notes to the amount of five hundred pounds. Amanda blushed
deeply, and felt her feelings a little hurt at the idea of being obliged
to Lord Mortimer for everything. He pressed her hand, and in a voice of
soothing tenderness, told her he should be offended if she did not, from
this moment, consider her interest inseparable from his. The notes, he
said, of right belonged to her, as they amounted to but the individual
sum he had already devoted to her use. He requested she would not curb
in the least her generous spirit, but fulfil, to the utmost extent, all
the claims which gratitude had upon her. The benevolent sisters of St.
Catherine's were the foremost in the list of those who had conferred
obligations upon her, and he desired she would not only reward them
liberally at present, but promise them an annual stipend of fifty
pounds.
Amanda was truly delighted at this. To be able to contribute to the
comfort of those who had so largely promoted hers, was a source of
exquisite felicity. Lord Mortimer presented her with his picture, which
he had drawn in London for that purpose. It was a striking likeness, and
most elegantly set with brilliants, which formed, a cipher upon a plait
of hair at the back. This was indeed a precious present to Amanda, and
she acknowledged it was such. Lord Mortimer said, that "in return for it
he should expect hers at some future time;" but added, smiling, "I shall
not heed the shadow till I procure the substance." He also gave her a
very beautiful ring, with an emblematical device, and adorned in the
same manner as his picture, which Lady Martha had sent as a pledge of
future friendship; and he now informed her, "that her ladyship,
accompanied by Lady Araminta, intended meeting them at Holyhead, that
all due honor and attention might be paid to her adopted daughter."
In the midst of their conversation the dinner-bell rang from the
convent. Amanda started, and declared she had not supposed it half so
late. The arch smile which this speech occasioned in Lord Mortimer,
instantly made her perceive it had been a tacit confession of the
pleasure she enjoyed in their _tete-à-tete_.
She blushed, and telling him she could not stay another moment, was
hurrying away. He hastily caught her, and holding both her hands,
declared she should not depart, neither would he to his solitary dinner,
till she promised he might return to her early in the evening. To this
she consented, provided he allowed her to have the prioress and Sister
Mary at least at tea. This was a condition Lord Mortimer by no means
liked to agree to, and he endeavored to prevail on her to drop it; but
finding her inflexible, he said she was a provoking girl, and asked her
if she was not afraid that, when he had the power, he would retaliate
upon her for all the trials she put his patience to. But since she would
have it so, why, it must be so to be sure, he said; but he hoped the
good ladies would have too much conscience to sit out the whole evening
with them. That was all chance, Amanda said. The bell again rang, and he
was forced to depart.
She took the opportunity of being alone with the prioress for a few
minutes, to speak to her about procuring a female to attend her in her
journey. The prioress said she doubted not but she could procure her an
eligible person from the neighboring town, and promised to write there
that very evening, to a family who would be able to assist her
inquiries.
Both she and Sister Mary were much pleased by being invited to drink tea
with Lord Mortimer. He came even earlier than was expected. Poor Amanda
was terrified, lest her companions should overhear him repeatedly asking
her, whether they would not retire immediately after tea. Though not
overheard, the prioress had too much sagacity not to know her departure
was desired; she, therefore, under pretence of business, retired and
took Mary along with her.
Amanda and Lord Mortimer went into the garden. He thanked her for not
losing time in speaking to the prioress about her servant, and said that
he hoped, at the end of the week at farthest, she would be ready to
begin her journey. Amanda readily promised to use all possible dispatch.
They passed some delightful hours in rambling about the garden, and
talking over their felicity.
The prioress's expectation was answered relative to a servant. In the
course of two days she produced one in every respect agreeable to
Amanda, and things were now in such forwardness for her departure, that
she expected it would take place as soon as Lord Mortimer had mentioned.
His time was passed almost continually at St. Catherine's, never leaving
it except at dinner-time, when he went to Castle Carberry. His residence
there was soon known, and visitors and invitations without number came
to the castle, but he found means of avoiding them.
Amanda, laughing, would often tell him he retarded the preparations for
her journey by being always with her; this, he said, was only a pretext
to drive him away, for that he rather forwarded them by letting her lose
no time.
Lord Mortimer, on coming to Amanda one evening as usual, appeared
uncommonly discomposed, his face was flushed, and his whole manner
betrayed agitation. He scarcely noticed Amanda; but seating himself,
placed his arm upon a table, and leaned his head dejectedly upon it.
Amanda was inexpressibly shocked--her heart panted with apprehension of
ill; but she felt too timid to make any inquiry. He suddenly knit his
brows, and muttered between his teeth, "Curse on the wretch!"
Amanda could no longer keep silence. "What wretch," she exclaimed, "or
what is the meaning of this disorder?" "First tell me, Amanda," said he,
looking very steadfastly at her, "have you seen any stranger here
lately?" "Good Heaven!" replied she, "what can you mean by such a
question? But I solemnly assure you I have not." "Enough," said he,
"such an assurance restores me to quiet; but, my dear Amanda," coming
over to her, and taking her hands in his, "since you have perceived my
agitation, I must account to you for it. I have just seen Belgrave; he
was but a few yards from me on the Common when I saw him; but the mean
despicable wretch, loaded as he is with conscious guilt, durst not face
me. He got out of my way by leaping over the hedge which divides the
Common from a lane with many intricate windings. I endeavored, but
without success, to discover the one he had retreated through." "I see,"
said Amanda, pale and trembling, "he is destined to make me wretched. I
had hoped indeed that Lord Mortimer would no more have suffered his
quiet to be interrupted by him; it implies such a doubt," said she,
weeping, "as shocks my soul! If suspicion is thus continually to be
revived, we had better separate at once, for misery must be the
consequence of a union without mutual confidence." "Gracious Heaven!"
said Lord Mortimer, "how unfortunate I am to give you pain. You mistake
entirely, indeed, my dearest Amanda, the cause of my uneasiness. I swear
by all that is sacred, no doubt, no suspicion of your worth, has arisen
in my mind. No man can think more highly of a woman than I do of you;
but I was disturbed lest the wretch should have forced himself into your
presence, and lest you, through apprehension for me, concealed it from
me."
This explanation calmed the perturbation of Amanda. As an atonement for
the uneasiness he had given her, she wanted Lord Mortimer to promise he
would not endeavor to discover Belgrave. This promise he avoided giving,
and Amanda was afraid of pressing it, lest the spark of jealousy, which
she was convinced existed in the disposition of Lord Mortimer, should be
blown into a flame. That Belgrave would studiously avoid him she
trusted, and she resolved that if the things that she had deemed it
necessary to order from the neighboring town were not finished, to wait
no longer for them, as she longed now more than ever to quit a place she
thought dangerous to Lord Mortimer. The ensuing morning, instead of
seeing his lordship at breakfast, a note was brought to her couched in
these words:
TO MISS FITZALAN.
I am unavoidably prevented from waiting on my dear Amanda this
morning, but in the course of the day she may depend on either
seeing or hearing from me again. She can have no excuse now on
my account about not hastening the preparations for her journey,
and when we meet, if I find that her time has not been employed
for this purpose, she may expect a severe chiding from her
faithful
MORTIMER.
This note filled Amanda with the most alarming disquiet. It was evident
to her that he was gone in pursuit of Belgrave. She ran into the hall to
inquire of the messenger about his master, but he was gone. She then
hastened to the prioress and communicated her apprehensions to her.
The prioress endeavored to calm them, by assuring her she might be
convinced that Belgrave had taken too many precautions to be discovered.
Amanda's breakfast, however, remained untouched, and her things
unpacked, and she continued the whole morning the picture of anxiety,
impatiently expecting the promised visit or letter. Neither came, and
she resolved to send, after dinner, the old gardener to Castle Carberry
to inquire about Lord Mortimer. While she was speaking to him for that
purpose, the maid followed her into the garden, and told her there was a
messenger in the parlor from Lord Mortimer. She flew thither, but what
words can express her surprise when the supposed messenger, raising a
large hat, which shadowed his face, and removing a handkerchief, which
he had hitherto held up to it, discovered to her view the features of
Lord Cherbury? She could only exclaim, "Gracious Heaven! has anything
happened to Lord Mortimer?" ere she sunk into a chair in breathless
agitation.