CHAPTER XIII.

It is scarcely necessary to observe, that Sir James's researches proved

fruitless.

By the time he returned to the house the alarm was becoming serious.

Indeed it was beginning to be an ascertained thing, not only that Louisa

was missing, but that Henry Lindsey had also disappeared, which latter

circumstance afforded a solution of the young lady's absence by no means

agreeable to her family. The news spread quickly, and every one was

looking amazingly amused, except they happened to meet the eye of Lady

Arden or Mrs. Dorothea, when they thought it necessary to quench their

smiles; and if they were particular friends, add a few inches to the

length of their faces.

It was now very late, and the rooms were thinning fast, though many were

induced to delay their departure by the spur and zest which so fair an

opportunity of making ill-natured comments had given to conversation.

Yet who can say that we do not live in a good-natured considerate world,

when we can assert, as an incontestable fact, that poor little Sir

James, as soon as it was whispered about that his intended bride had

gone off with his brother, received the sweetest possible smiles from

several young ladies, who had scarcely taken any notice of him ever

since his engagement had been generally known. What but the most

generous compassion for the forsaken baronet could have dictated so

sudden a change of manner.

Had it not been for this untoward accident, Mrs. Dorothea would have

insisted on setting up another and another quadrille, _ad infinitum_;

for the pride of a dance is in how late you can keep it up, however

tired of it host and hostess, chaperons, musicians, and dancing

gentlemen may be; as to young ladies, they are never tired of dancing,

except they _don't dance_.

Mrs. Dorothea, however, now courteseyed to her retreating guests with an

anxious countenance, and an absent manner, without making any attempt to

dissuade them from _running away_, as she would have designated their

departure, but for the real _run away_, which caused her very serious

uneasiness: first on her niece's account, and secondly on her own; for

she was mortified beyond expression to think that her grand party, which

had cost her so much trouble, and would cost her so much money, should

have been so sadly broken up.

She need not however, good lady, so far as her party was concerned, have

afflicted herself; for it was pronounced the next day to have been so

enlivened by the elopement that it was quite delightful.

Willoughby and Alfred, having ascertained that a chariot and four, the

horses' heads to the east, had been seen driving off from the Montpelier

gates the night before at a furious rate, set out in pursuit on the road

thus indicated. They soon, however, lost all traces of the fugitives,

and after an absence of two or three days, returned to Cheltenham. Lady

Arden had by this time received a letter announcing the marriage, and

begging pardon, and so forth. There was therefore nothing more to be

done, and Willoughby accordingly repaired to Lady Palliser's, to inquire

after the health of Caroline. As he crossed the little lawn, he observed

great ladders set up against the front of the house, and persons within

and without apparently employed in cleaning the windows. The hall door

was open, and a slatternly looking woman, not the least like a servant,

on the steps, washing them down and rubbing them white with a stone. He

knocked, and another woman, who was crossing the hall at the moment,

armed with a broom and a duster, threw them aside, came forward, and

asked him if he was wanting the lodgings. "They will not be quite ready

for coming into before twelve o'clock to-morrow," she continued, without

waiting for a reply; then fancying that Willoughby looked disappointed,

she added, "If you're particular about coming in to-night, sir, I'll set

more hands to work, and see what can be done; but the family only left

this morning, and they kept so many servants, that there is no saying

all there's to do after them; for as for servants, as I _sais_, they

always makes more work than three masters, or their mistresses either,

which was the cause why I was endeavouring to assist a little myself

just with dusting the book-shelves."

"Has Lady Palliser then left Cheltenham, or only changed her house?"

asked Willoughby.

"Oh, left Cheltenham, sir. Her ladyship was not likely to change from my

house while she staid, if it had been seven years. Indeed, situation and

all, where could she be so well, except it were next door, which also

belongs to me. Sixteen guineas a week, sir, is the lowest farthing I can

take! Indeed they should have been twenty, but you seem such a nice

civil spoken gentleman that----"

"Thank you," interrupted Willoughby, "I don't want the house; it was

Lady Palliser I was inquiring for."

"And where were your eyes that you didn't see the bill on the window; as

if I'd nothing to do but stand talking to you!" and away she flounced.

During Caroline's protracted illness, Willoughby had had some

uncomfortable misgivings; not that he had confessed his feelings even to

himself, yet he had thought that during convalescence, he might have

been permitted to see a lady to whom he now considered himself

betrothed. True, he had frequently been admitted, and been received very

graciously by Lady Palliser; and on such occasions he had tried to feel

satisfied with the excuse that Caroline had not yet been able to quit

her room. He had addressed to Caroline very many and very tender _billet

doux_; to all of which he had received very gracious and encouraging

replies, though written by Lady Palliser, to spare, as he supposed, the

invalid the fatigue of being her own amanuensis. This was all perfectly

proper, yet though he told himself so again and again, he could not help

feeling that some more direct communication would be much more

satisfactory.

So sudden a recovery as was implied by this journey, undertaken too

during the few days of his absence, seemed so strange, that every

painful feeling was instantly increased tenfold. Yet he knew not what to

apprehend; suspense, however, becoming wholly intolerable, he resolved

to set out immediately for ----shire.

He did so within an hour, but without communicating any of his doubts or

fears even to Alfred. As soon as Willoughby had set off, Alfred also

hastened to quit Cheltenham, where every object, and every circumstance,

which used formerly to yield him delight, was fraught with the most

miserable associations.

He went to Arden; nor could he have chosen a better retreat: for the

instantaneous effect of a sight of its well-known scenes was for a time

to give to the feelings and affections of childhood and boyhood a most

salutary preponderance over the newer and more vivid, but far less

uniformly happy sensations of the last few months.

Dilemmas of Pride, (Vol 2 of 3) · 第 13 / 25 章