"What are these words? These seeming flowers? Maids to call them,
'Love in idleness.'"
The following day at noon, as the Count Sobieski was crossing
Cavendish Square to keep his appointment in Harley Street, he was met
by Lady Sara Ross. She had spoken with the Misses Dundas the night
before, at the masquerade, where discovering the pretty Euphemia
through the dress of Eloisa, her jealous and incensed heart could not
withstand the temptation of hinting at the captivating Abelard she
had selected to direct her studies. Her ladyship soon penetrated into
the situation of Euphemia's heated fancy, and drew from her, without
betraying herself, that she expected to see her master the following
day. Stung to the soul, Lady Sara quitted the rooms, and in a
paroxysm of disappointment, determined to throw herself in his way as
he went to her rival's house.
With this hope, she had already been traversing the square upwards of
half an hour, attended by her maid, when her anxious eye at last
caught a view of his figure proceeding along Margaret Street. Hardly
able to support her tottering frame, shaken as it was with contending
emotions, she accosted him first: for he was passing straight onward,
without looking to the right or the left. On seeing her ladyship, he
stopped, and expressed his pleasure at the meeting.
"If you _really_ are pleased to meet me," said she, forcing a
smile, "take a walk with me round the square. I want to speak with
you."
Thaddeus bowed, and she put her arm through his, but remained silent
for a few minutes, in evident confusion. The count recollected it
must now be quite two. He knew the awkwardness of making the Misses
Dundas wait; and notwithstanding his reluctance to appear impatient
with Lady Sara, he found himself obliged to say--
"I am sorry I must urge your ladyship to honor me with your commands,
for it is already past the time when I ought to have been with the
Misses Dundas."
"Yes," cried Lady Sara, angrily, "Miss Euphemia told me as much; but,
Mr. Constantine, as a friend, I must warn you against her acts, as
well as against those of another lady, who would do well to correct
the boldness of her manner."
"Whom do you mean, madam?" interrogated Thaddeus, surprised at her
warmth, and totally at a loss to conjecture to whom she alluded.
"A little reflection would answer you," returned she, wishing to
retreat from an explanation, yet stimulated by her double jealousy to
proceed: "she may be a good girl, Mr. Constantine, and I dare say she
is; but a woman who has promised her hand to another ought not to
flirt with you. What business had Miss Egerton to command you to wear
an English dress. But she must now see the danger of her conduct, by
your having presumed to obey her."
"Lady Sara!" exclaimed the count, much hurt at this speech, "I hardly
understand you; yet I believe I may venture to affirm that in all
which you have just now said, you are mistaken. Who can witness the
general frankness of Miss Egerton, or listen to the candid manner
with which she avows her attachment to Mr. Montresor, and conceive
that she possesses any thoughts which would not do her honor to
reveal? And for myself," added he, lowering the tone of his voice, "I
trust the least of my faults is presumption. It never was my
character to presume on any lady's condescension; and if dressing as
she approved be deemed an instance of that kind, I can declare, upon
my word, had I not found other motives besides her raillery, my
appearance should not have suffered a change."
"Are you sincere, Mr. Constantine?" cried Lady Sara, now smiling with
pleasure.
"Indeed I am, and happy if my explanation have met with your
ladyship's approbation."
"Mr. Constantine," resumed she, "I have no motive but one in my
discourse with you,--friendship." And casting her eyes down, she
sighed profoundly.
"Your ladyship does me honor."
"I would have you to regard me with the same confidence that you do
Lady Tinemouth. My father possesses the first patronage in this
country, I therefore have it a thousand times more in my power than
she has to render you a service."
Here her ladyship overshot herself; she had not calculated well on
the nature of the mind she wished to ensnare.
"I am grateful to your generosity," replied Thaddeus, "but on this
head I must decline your kind offices. Whilst I consider myself the
subject of one king, though he be in a prison, I cannot accept of any
employment under another who is in alliance with his enemies."
Lady Sara discovered her error the moment he had made his answer;
and, in a disappointed tone, exclaimed, "Then you despise my
friendship!"
"No, Lady Sara; it is an honor far beyond my merits; and any
gratitude to Lady Tinemouth must be doubled when I recollect that I
possess such honor through her means."
"Well," cried her ladyship, "have that as you will; but I expect, as
a specimen of your confidence in me, you will be wary of Euphemia
Dundas. I know she is artful and vain; she finds amusement in
attracting the affections of men; and then, notwithstanding her
affected sensibility, she turns them into a subject for laughter."
"I thank your ladyship," replied the count; "but in this respect I
think I am safe, both from the lady and myself."
"How," asked Lady Sara, rather too eagerly, "is your heart?"--She
paused and looked down.
"No, madam!" replied he, sighing as deeply as herself: but with his
thoughts far from her and the object of their discourse; "I have no
place in my heart to give to love. Besides, the quality in which I
appear at Lady Dundas's would preclude the vainest man alive from
supposing that such notice from any lady there to him could be
possible. Therefore, I am safe, though I acknowledge my obligation to
your ladyship's caution."
Lady Sara was satisfied with the first part of this answer. It
declared that his heart was unoccupied; and, as he had accepted her
proffered friendship, she doubted not, when assisted by more frequent
displays of her fascinations, she could destroy its lambent nature,
and in the end light up in his bosom a similar fire to that which
consumed her own.
The unconscious object of all these devices began internally to
accuse his vanity of having been too fanciful in the formation of
suspicions which on a former occasion he had believed himself forced
to admit. Blushing at a quickness of perception his contrition now
denominated folly, he found himself at the bottom of Harley Street.
Lady Sara called her servant to walk nearer to her; and telling
Thaddeus she should expect him the next evening at Lady Tinemouth's,
wished him good-morning.
He was certain that he must have stayed at least half an hour beyond
the time when he ought to be with the sisters. Anticipating very
haughty looks, and perhaps a reprimand, he knocked at the door, and
was again shown into the library. Miss Euphemia was alone.
He offered some indistinct excuse for having made her wait; but
Euphemia, with good-humored alacrity, interrupted him.
"O pray, don't mind; you have made nobody wait but me, and I can
easily forgive it; for mamma and my sister chose to go out at one, it
being May-day, to see the chimney-sweepers dine at Mrs.
Montague's.[Footnote: This was a gay spectacle, and a most kind act
to these poor children, who thus once a-year found themselves
refreshed and happy. They resorted to the green court-yard of Mrs.
Montague's house every May-day, about one o'clock, dressed in their
gala wreaths, and sporting with their brushes and shovels, where they
found a good dinner, kind words from their hostess and her guests,
and each little sweep received a shilling at parting. On the death of
Mrs. Montague, this humane and pleasurable spectacle ceased.] They
did as they liked, and I preferred staying at home to repeat my
lesson."
Thaddeus, thanking her for her indulgence, sat down, and taking the
book, began to question her. Not one word could she recollect. She
smiled.
"I am afraid, madam, you have never thought of it since yesterday
morning."
"Indeed, I have thought of nothing else: you must forgive me. I am
very stupid, Mr. Constantine, at learning languages; and German is so
harsh--at least to my ears! Cannot you teach me any other thing? I
should like to learn of you of all things, but do think of something
else besides this odious jargon! Cannot you teach me to read poetry
elegantly?--Shakspeare, for instance; I doat upon Shakspeare!"
"That would be strange presumption in a foreigner?"
"No presumption in the least," cried she; "if you can do it, pray
begin! There is Romeo and Juliet."
Thaddeus pushed away the book with a smile.
"I cannot obey. I understand Shakspeare with as much ease as you,
madam, will soon do Schiller, if you apply; but I cannot pretend to
read the play aloud."
"Dear me, how vexatious!--but I must hear you read something. Do,
take up that Werter. My sister got it from the Prussian ambassador,
and he tells me it is sweetest in its own language."
The count opened the book.
"But you will not understand a word of it."
"I don't care for that; I have it by heart in English; and if you
will only read his last letter to Charlotte, I know I can follow you
in my own mind."
To please this whimsical little creature, Thaddeus turned to the
letter, and read it forward with a pathos natural to his voice and
character. When he came to an end and closed the volume, the cadence
of his tones, and the lady's memory, did ample justice to her
sensibility. She looked up, and smiling through her watery eyes,
which glittered like violets wet with dew, drew out her perfumed
handkerchief, and wiping them, said--
"I thank you, Mr. Constantine. You see by this irrepressible emotion
that I feel Goethe, and did not ask you a vain favor."
Thaddeus bowed, for he was at a loss to guess what kind of a reply
could be expected by so strange a creature.
She continued--
"You are a German, Mr. Constantine. Did you ever see Charlotte?"
"Never, madam."
"I am sorry for that; I should have liked to have heard what sort of
a beauty she was. But don't you think she behaved cruelly to Werter?
Perhaps you knew him?"
"No, madam; this lamentable story happened before I was born."
"How unhappy for him! I am sure you would have made the most charming
friends in the world! Have you a friend, Mr. Constantine."
The count looked at her with surprise. She laughed at the expression
of his countenance.
"I don't mean such friends as one's father, mother, sisters and
relations: most people have enough of them. I mean a tender,
confiding friend, to whom you unbosom all your secrets: who is your
other self--a second soul! In short, a creature in whose existence
you forget your own!"
Thaddeus followed with his eyes the heightened color of the fair
enthusiast, who, accompanying her rhapsody with action expressive as
her words, had to repeat her question, "Have you such a friend?"
before he found recollection to answer her in the negative.
The count, who had never been used to such extravagant behavior in a
woman, would have regarded Miss Euphemia Dundas as little better than
insane had he not been prepared by Miss Egerton's description; and he
now acquiesced in the young lady's desire to detain him another hour,
half amused and half wearied with her aimless and wild fancies. But
here he was mistaken. Her fancies were not aimless; his heart was the
game she had in view, and she determined a desperate attack should
make it her own, in return for the deep wounds she had received from
every tone of his voice, whilst reading the Sorrows of Werter.