HAPPINESS.—THE DIAMOND-MERCHANT.
When Lord Ellingham took his leave of Lady Hatfield, the latter hurried
to her bed-chamber; and, locking the door behind her, sate down in an
arm-chair near the fire to ponder unconstrainedly upon the conversation
of the previous hour.
And that hour—what changes had it worked in respect to the mind and
prospects of this patrician lady!
"Oh! how generous and noble-hearted is my Arthur!" she mused inwardly:
"how boundless is his love for me! But is it possible that I am really
to become his wife? or am I the sport of a wild and delusive dream?
No—it is all true: I am awake—I see the various objects around me—there
is no confusion in my brain. Yes—it _is_ all true; and he will marry
me—he will make me his wife—in spite of——But let me avoid thinking of
the past! The future is now bright and glorious before me. My own
Arthur—whom I love so fondly, and who alone has ever possessed and will
possess my heart,—my own noble, generous Arthur has surmounted all
prejudice—flung aside all disgust—and has promised to make me happy! Oh!
not in the wildest of my dreams could I have imagined so much bliss. The
clouds which have so long hung heavily around the star of my destiny,
have been suddenly dispersed by one who views my heart aright—who
understands me—who knows my sad history, but recognises my
innocence—who, in a word, rises superior to all the prejudices which
shackle the world. Oh! dearest—dearest Arthur! how can I ever reward you
adequately for this generosity on your part? All the love which I bear
you—all the adoration I feel for you—all the devotion I shall manifest
towards you, will not repay the immense debt that I owe you! It is true
that I possess great wealth—that the services of my father to the State
induced his Majesty to create me a Peeress in my own right—and that I
have some pretensions to beauty:—all this is true—but it is not
sufficient to induce my noble-hearted Arthur to make me the partner of
his bed. No: for he himself is rich far beyond his desires—he also owns
a proud and ancient name—and England has daughters far lovelier than I.
But he loves me for myself—apart from all selfish considerations: and,
Oh! what bliss to be thus loved!"
Lady Hatfield sank her head upon her fair hand, and gave way to the new
and ineffable bliss which had so suddenly enveloped her in its halo.
At length another idea struck her.
"But my uncle—how could _he_ have known my secret?" she exclaimed aloud.
"And how did he discover it? Oh! he must have been aware of it from the
very first! The good—the kind-hearted man—never to have even appeared
to——"
Georgiana's reverie was interrupted by a hasty knock at her door.
She rose, unlocked it, and gave admission to her friend Julia.
"My dear Lady Hatfield," exclaimed Miss Mordaunt, her entire countenance
illuminated with joy, "congratulate me. It is all settled!"
"That you are to become Lady Blunt?" asked Georgiana, smiling.
"Yes, my dearest friend—Lady Blunt! How well it sounds! only think of
'_Lady Blunt_' upon a card—printed, for instance, in the old English
letter—or German text—or whatever it is. And then—'_Lady Blunt's
carriage!_'—and all that sort of thing! Really I am so happy—I don't
know whether to dance or sing—or both!"
"I am delighted to see you so happy, my dear Julia," said Lady Hatfield;
"and most sincerely do I congratulate you. But have you acted prudently
to accept Sir Christopher without communicating his proposal to your
relations?"
"I think that I am quite old enough to manage my own affairs in this
respect at least," answered Julia, laughing: "and yet—after all—I am not
so very old—only just thirty. Still it is high time to settle one-self
in life. But for the present, my dear Lady Hatfield, I must implore you
to keep my engagement a profound secret—for reasons which I will explain
in a few days——"
"I shall keep your secret, Julia, without seeking to learn your motives
until you may choose to communicate them," replied Georgiana. "And now I
am about to surprise you in respect to myself. Lord Ellingham has been
here this morning."
"So I heard from old Mason just now," said Miss Mordaunt. "But you knew
he would call, my dear friend, after leaving his card last night. And—if
you speak candidly—you will confess that you _hoped_ he would."
"I _did_ hope he would call, Julia," answered Georgiana; "but I could
_not_ imagine that our interview would have terminated——However," she
added, checking herself, and smiling joyously, "you must now
congratulate me; for in a few weeks I shall become the Countess of
Ellingham."
"I do indeed congratulate you, my dearest Lady Hatfield," replied Miss
Mordaunt. "But upon my word, wonders will never cease. Here were you
only a few days ago rejecting the Earl in opposition to every thing like
common sense—and certainly against the wishes of your very best
friends——"
"Let us not talk of the past, Julia," interrupted Georgiana. "The future
opens so brightly before me, that I am almost dazzled by its brilliancy.
And I am happy—supremely happy—Oh! almost too happy!"
As she uttered these words, Georgiana threw herself into the arm-chair
which she had quitted for the purpose of giving admission to Miss
Mordaunt; and never did the beauty of her soul-speaking countenance
shine to greater advantage than at that moment.
And no wonder that even her friend, whose volatile disposition seldom
permitted her mind to settle its attention on subjects concerning
another, was struck by the loveliness of Lady Hatfield on this
occasion:—no wonder, we say, that Julia gazed with admiration for a long
time on that beauteous woman: for happiness seemed to have invested her
with new charms.
Her cheeks—lately so pale with mental anxiety and partial
indisposition—were now tinged with a warm carnation hue:—joy flashed
from her large liquid eyes, usually of so mild though lustrous a
languor;—and smiles played upon those rosy lips which were wont to
remain apart with serious expression.
* * * * *
The Earl of Ellingham, upon taking leave of Georgiana that morning,—but,
be it well understood, with the promise of returning to pass an hour or
two in the evening,—experienced that kind of heart-felt happiness which
requires a vent by means of imparting the fact of its existence to a
friend.
To the abode of Dr. Lascelles was the Earl accordingly hastening, when
he was suddenly accosted by a gentleman; who addressed him by name, and
whom in another moment he remembered to be Mr. Gordon, the
diamond-merchant.
"I beg your lordship's pardon for thus stopping you," said that
individual: "but I thought you might be gratified to learn that the
jewels which I lost so mysteriously, have been restored to me."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Arthur. "I am rejoiced to hear these tidings. And
now, I presume, you are fully convinced that Miss Esther de Medina was
entirely innocent of the theft so ridiculously imputed to her."
"On the contrary, my lord," answered the diamond-merchant: "I am more
than ever certain that Miss de Medina was the person who took them."
"Mr. Gordon," exclaimed the Earl indignantly, "I should have thought
that, after the investigation which took place at the office in Bow
Street, you would not have clung to an opinion so dishonourable—so
unjust towards an innocent young lady. Moreover, sir, I should have
conceived that my testimony to that young lady's character would have
dispelled any doubts which had still hung on your mind."
"That your lordship gave such testimony conscientiously, I cannot for an
instant question," was the firm but respectful answer. "At the same time
that your lordship was and is still deceived in that young lady, I am
confident."
[Illustration]
"Perhaps, sir," observed the Earl coldly, "you will have no objection to
communicate the reasons which have thus induced you to change your
opinion; for, if I remember rightly, you yourself declared, in the
public office, that you were satisfied there was some grievous mistake,
and that Miss de Medina was innocent of the deed imputed to her at
first."
"I admit, my lord," replied the diamond-merchant, "that I was staggered
by the singularity of the turn given to the proceedings when your
lordship appeared to speak in Miss de Medina's defence. But listen, my
lord, to the subsequent events which revived all my suspicions. Upon
leaving the Police-Court I returned home, but was scarcely able to
attend to my business, so bewildered was I by the occurrences of the
morning, and so annoyed was I also at the loss which I had so
mysteriously experienced. It was probably four o'clock in the afternoon,
when a lady was announced; and the moment she raised her veil, I
recognised Miss de Medina. You may conceive, my lord, how surprised I
was by this visit: but much greater was my astonishment, when she said
to me, without a single word of preface, '_Sir, what is the value of the
diamonds which you have lost?_'—'_Six hundred pounds_,' was my
answer.—Miss de Medina immediately drew forth a small packet from her
dress, and counted six Bank-notes, each of a hundred pounds, and which
she placed before me on the table,—'_Here is the amount, sir_,' she
said; and I offered her a receipt, which she however declined. For a few
moments she lingered—as if anxious to say something more: then, suddenly
turning away, she abruptly quitted the house."
"Extraordinary!" cried the Earl of Ellingham. "And yet——"
"One instant, my lord," interrupted Mr. Gordon: "the most mysterious
part of the whole transaction is yet to be revealed to you. Not ten
minutes had elapsed from the moment of Miss de Medina's departure, when
a person, whom I remembered to have seen in the court, was announced. I
do not know whether your lordship observed at the office a man of florid
complexion—light curly hair—red whiskers—and dressed in a sporting
suit——"
"I not only observed him," replied the Earl; "but from the description
subsequently given by one of my servants, whom I questioned after my
return home from the police-office, I have every reason to believe that
the individual whom you describe was the bearer of a letter which had
induced me to hasten to Bow Street to give my testimony in proof of Miss
de Medina's innocence."
"And does your lordship know that man?" inquired the diamond-merchant.
"I never saw him, to my knowledge, until that day, when the attention he
appeared to devote to the proceedings attracted my notice—although he
was in the midst of the crowd congregated near the door. But please to
continue your own narrative."
"This individual, my lord, of whom we have been speaking," returned Mr.
Gordon, "was the person introduced to my office a few minutes after the
departure of Miss de Medina. He seated himself in a free and easy,
off-hand manner, and said, '_I think I can give you some little
information concerning the diamonds which you have lost._'—'_Indeed!_' I
exclaimed: and, anxious to hear what he was about to state, I said
nothing relative to the visit of Miss de Medina and the payment of the
amount at which the lost jewels were valued.—'_Yes_,' he continued: and,
with the utmost coolness, he produced a pistol from one pocket and a
small parcel, wrapped up in brown paper, from the other.—'_What is the
meaning of this strange conduct?_' I demanded, glancing towards the
weapon which the man held in his hand.—'_Oh! it is soon explained_,' he
said. '_This pistol is merely to defend myself in case you should take
it into your head to give me into the charge of a constable on suspicion
of being connected with the person who stole your property: and as for
the parcel, open it, and see what it contains._'—Thus speaking, he
tossed the packet across the table to me, crossed his legs, and began to
hum a tune. I opened the parcel; and to my surprise perceived the
diamonds which I had lost.—'_Is the set complete?_' asked the
man.—'_Quite perfect_,' I replied in the most unfeigned astonishment at
the singularity of the whole proceedings. '_But how does it happen_,' I
continued,'_that you have come to restore them to me, when a quarter of
an hour has scarcely elapsed since Miss de Medina herself called and
paid me six hundred pounds at which they are valued?_'—It now appeared
to be the man's turn to be surprised: but, in another moment, he
exclaimed,'_Oh! I understand it all._'—'_What do you understand?_' said
I: '_for I must candidly confess that I understand nothing of the whole
transaction, which is one involved in the deepest mystery_.'—'_So let it
remain_, he cried abruptly: '_and now mark me_,' he added in a slower
and more impressive tone; '_beware how you ever utter a word derogatory
to the honour of Esther de Medina_.' And he quitted the apartment,
leaving me in possession of my jewels and of the six hundred pounds
also."
"This narrative is so singular, Mr. Gordon," said the Earl of Ellingham,
"that were you not a respectable merchant, and that you can have no
possible interest in amusing me with a fiction, I should not believe the
portion which relates to Miss de Medina."
"I declare before my Maker," ejaculated the diamond-merchant solemnly,
"that I have not exaggerated one tittle of my history. I have even more
to state. The restoration of my property convinced me that I had no
right to retain the money which Miss de Medina had paid to me as a
recompense for its loss. I therefore determined to give it back to her.
But I was unacquainted with her residence. Then I recollected that your
lordship had stated that Mr. de Medina had become your tenant for a
house and small estate about seven miles from London. I immediately
repaired to your lordship's residence in Pall Mall to inquire the
address of Mr. de Medina; but you were not at home. Your valet, however,
furnished me with the information I required; and on the following
morning I proceeded to Finchley. I called at the house to which I had
been directed, and learnt that Mr. de Medina and his daughter did not
intend to settle there until the Spring; but from the servant in charge
of the premises I ascertained where Mr. de Medina resided in town. I
accordingly returned to London, and forthwith repaired to Great Ormond
Street, where I obtained an interview with Miss de Medina. Her father
was out—a circumstance which, on the occasion, appeared to give her
pleasure; because she asked the servant who announced me, whether Mr. de
Medina were in his study; and on receiving a reply to the effect that he
had gone out a few minutes previous to my arrival, she was evidently
relieved of some anxiety. I communicated the nature of my business; but
when I mentioned the particulars of the visit I had received from the
light-haired gentleman, her countenance suddenly assumed so singular an
expression that I can scarcely define its meaning. It was not alarm
alone—nor surprise—nor shame—nor sorrow, which her looks denoted; but a
feeling composed of all those sentiments blended together. Then, when I
explained to her that this man had restored my lost diamonds, her
countenance suddenly assumed an expression of joy. I handed her the six
hundred pounds, which she received; and then—as on the occasion of her
visit to me the preceding evening—she seemed anxious to make some
remark, to which she could not, however, give utterance. The silence
became awkward—and I took my leave. Your lordship now knows all."
"And can you for one moment imagine that Esther de Medina was the person
who stole your diamonds?" exclaimed Lord Ellingham: "or that she was in
any way connected with that man who restored them to you?"
"My belief is that she parted with them in some way to that man,"
answered Mr. Gordon; "and that her father most probably gave her the
money to recompense me for my loss; but that when she paid it, she was
unaware that the man had the intention of restoring the jewels."
Lord Ellingham made no answer: for there suddenly flashed upon his mind
a reminiscence which staggered him.
The reader will recollect that when Mr. de Medina encountered his
daughter at the police-court, he said to her, "_Oh! Esther—Esther, I can
understand it all. You have brought this upon yourself!_" These words
were overheard at the time by Lord Ellingham: but they had since escaped
his memory—or else failed to make any very deep impression upon him,—his
own mind, since that day, having been a prey to much acute anxiety,
suspense, and conflicting feelings, on account of Lady Hatfield.
But now, when he recalled those words, and considered them in all their
significance,—when he pondered upon the tale which he had just heard
from the lips of the diamond-merchant,—when he remembered that the man
who had restored those jewels was doubtless the same who had conveyed to
Pall Mall the letter which so mysteriously urged him to hasten to the
police-court and give his testimony in Esther's defence,—he began to
share Mr. Gordon's belief that there must be some connexion between that
florid, light-haired man and Miss de Medina.
At the same time, Lord Ellingham was convinced that Esther had _not_
stolen the diamonds; or that, if she had, Mr. Gordon had mistaken the
hour of the day, if not the day itself, on which such theft was
committed. Because Arthur remembered, beyond all possibility of error,
that from two o'clock on the afternoon until near eleven o'clock at
night, on the day specified by the diamond-merchant, Esther was engaged
in visiting the house which her father had hired from him (Lord
Ellingham), and which was situate about a mile beyond Finchley. Arthur
himself accompanied Mr. de Medina and Esther on that occasion; and
Esther was never absent from his sight, save perhaps for a few minutes
at a time, during the interval above named.
There was a profound mystery somewhere: and though the Earl was not
characterised by any feeling of impertinent curiosity, yet he longed to
clear up the doubts and misgivings which had at length arisen in his
mind. He entertained the greatest respect for Mr. de Medina, and—until
now—the same sentiment towards Esther, whom he had hitherto looked upon
as a model of purity, amiability, and innocence. He therefore felt
grieved—vexed—disappointed—annoyed, for the honour of the human race,
and especially for the credit of the female sex, to think it possible
that he had been so grossly deceived in that beautiful Jewess.
He walked slowly along, the diamond-merchant by his side.
"Well, my lord," said the latter, at length breaking the protracted
silence, "what is your opinion now?"
"I confess that I am bewildered," was the reply. "But I shall not judge
hastily. In the meantime, I pray you so far to suspend your opinion upon
the subject as to avoid the utterance of aught prejudicial to Miss de
Medina's character; and if I succeed in fathoming this mystery, the fact
of that young lady's guilt or innocence shall be duly communicated to
you."
The diamond-merchant bowed respectfully, and departed in another
direction; while Lord Ellingham continued his way towards Grafton
Street.