In the evening, when Willoughby was preparing to go to Lady Palliser's,
he received a miniature note from her ladyship, saying, that Caroline's
cold was so much worse that she was not able to leave her room, which
untoward circumstance compelled them to resign the pleasure of seeing
him that evening.
He was of course much disappointed. The next morning, and for several
succeeding ones, he called regularly; sometimes saw Lady Palliser,
sometimes not; but Caroline was still invisible, being confined to her
apartment by severe indisposition. Alfred, who felt that his fate was
now sealed, longed for the quiet of Arden; and on the pretext of
shooting, had proposed going thither. But Mrs. Dorothea would not hear
of his leaving Cheltenham till after her party; and Lady Arden wished
him, if possible, to be present at his sister Jane's marriage. Our
kind-hearted hero therefore, the least selfish of beings, though
fatigued by the perpetual effort to force his spirits imposed by
society, consented to remain for the present.
Madeline, in pursuance of the prudent resolve she had formed, received
Mr. Cameron's attentions in so amiable a manner, that he became very
shortly a declared and received lover, and the happiest of men. She too,
was for the present, or at least thought herself quite happy. Being the
least striking of the family she had hitherto had rather an humble
opinion of her personal attractions; she was therefore highly flattered
and gratified by Mr. Cameron's absolute adoration. Her imagination too,
dazzled by anticipations somewhat resembling the Arabian Nights'
Entertainments, learnt to revel in the prospect of splendours heaped on
splendours, as offerings at the shrine of her own charms; while, never
having entertained a preference for any one else, her better feelings
also found a pleasing resting place, in the thoughts of the promised
fond devotion of her future husband. She could now sit like one really
in love, and muse with delight on the prospect of the accomplishment of
her every wish--the indulgence of her every whim--the worship of her
very faults, which she flattered herself she was securing for life by
marrying Mr. Cameron. In short, she was in high spirits; and in such
good humour with fate, that she even began to think she should not have
been half so happy had she been about to marry a younger man, who would
have met her on more equal terms; or, had he been a man of fortune,
would have thought perhaps that he was doing her the favour.
Louisa's mind, on the contrary, was in a very unsettled state. Sir James
had proposed to her more than once. He had certainly not been accepted,
but he had as certainly not been rejected with any thing like rational
decision. But people did not seem to think it necessary to be rational
with poor Sir James. She had told him, it is true, again and again, in a
pert and childish manner, that she never would marry him; but she had
laughed the while, and he had taken it all in good part, saying, that
the girls liked to be tantalising. He had asked her at length for the
measure of her finger: she had given him that of her wrist. With this he
had repaired to a jewellers.
The shopman had assured him there must be some mistake; but at the same
time recommended his taking the lady a very splendid bracelet, which
was, he added, a present that should always precede the presentation of
the ring.
Though Sir James was by no means careless of his money in general, he
was now too much in love to give prudential considerations a thought; he
therefore allowed the man to put up the highest priced bracelet in his
whole collection. Its beauty pleased Louisa, and she was silly enough to
accept and wear it: nay, Sir James himself was allowed to clasp it on
her arm. This produced a scene with Henry: for our little baronet, vain
of his unusual munificence, had kept the circumstance no secret. Louisa,
beginning to fear she was getting entangled with a man whom she could
not seriously decide on accepting, was vexed and out of spirits, and
consequently staid at home that evening from the walks, on pretext of a
headache.
Henry, always violent and imprudent, the moment he saw that she was not
of the walking party, quitted the promenade, and repaired to Laden
Arden's villa.
It was late and almost quite dark when, unannounced, he entered the
drawing-room from the lawn by an open French window.
Louisa, who was alone and had flung herself on a sofa, thus taken by
surprise, had but time to rise partially from her reclining position.
He approached. It so happened that though the apartment was without
lights, a stray beam from a lamp at the distance of the little lawn
gate, was caught and reflected, as Louisa moved her arm, by the bright
jewels of the luckless bracelet.
Henry seized the arm with the fierceness of a highwayman, wrenched the
snap, and flung the bracelet to the further end of the room; then
suddenly calmed by a sense of shame and contrition at his own brutal
violence, stood petrified without attempting to utter a syllable. Louisa
rose proudly. "By what authority, Mr. Lyndsey," she exclaimed, "have you
dared to offer me this insult?" While speaking she was crossing the room
to ring the bell and order the intruder to be shown out. Guessing her
intention, he started from his state of stupor, flew to intercept her,
flung himself at her feet, seized both her hands, and leaning his face
against them, sobbed violently.
"Hear me!" he exclaimed in broken accents. "My ruffianly, my wholly
unjustifiable conduct, was at least unpremeditated; I had no thought of
even uttering a reproach. I entered here but to bid you an eternal
farewell! Louisa, I am a miserable, a desperate man----I am about to
quit England for ever."
Louisa, who was speaking at the same time, was commanding him to quit
her presence instantly, or suffer her to reach the bell; but when he
mentioned quitting England for ever, her voice became less firm. Yet she
persisted in telling him that he must be gone--that she must not incur
the unjust suspicion of having remained at home to receive his highly
improper visit. How soon such commands were obeyed is not precisely
known; when the party however returned from the walks Louisa was alone,
though in manner strange and abstracted, and in a state of agitation so
great, that when requested, as the only one who had not a bonnet to
remove, to make tea, the small bunch of keys fell twice from her
trembling fingers ere she could contrive to open the caddy; while every
other part of the simple ceremony was performed in an equally bungling
and insufficient manner: from all which it seems scarcely more than fair
to infer, that whether the scene concluded in a reconciliation or a last
farewell, the lady had had but little time to compose her nerves between
the departure of her lover and the entrance of her friends.