Lord Westhaven first entered the room where his wife was, whose alarming
apprehensions at Emmeline's long stay were by this time extreme.
'Our Emmeline is returned, my love,' said he, 'and has met with no
accident.'
Lady Westhaven eagerly embracing her, reproached her tenderly for her
long absence. But then observing how pale she looked, and the fatigue
and oppression she seemed to suffer, her Ladyship said--
'Surely you have been frightened--or you are ill? You look so faint!'
'She is a little surprised,' interrupted Lord Westhaven, seeing her
still unable to answer for herself. 'She has brought us a visitor whom
we did not expect. My brother Godolphin landed just as she was returning
home.'
At this intelligence Lady Westhaven could express only pleasure. She had
never seen Godolphin, who was now introduced, and received with every
token of regard by her Ladyship, as well as by the Baron and Mrs. St.
Alpin; who beheld with pleasure another son of their sister, and beheld
him an honour to their family.
Bellozane, however, saw his arrival with less satisfaction. He
remembered that Emmeline had been, as she had told him, well acquainted
with Godolphin in England; and recollected that whenever he had been
spoken of, she had always done justice to his merit, yet rather evaded
than sought the conversation. Her extraordinary agitation on his
arrival, which was such as disabled her from walking home, seemed much
greater than could have been created by the sight of a mere
acquaintance; his figure was so uncommonly handsome, his countenance so
interesting, and his address such a fortunate mixture of dignity and
softness, that Bellozane, vain as he was, could not but acknowledge his
personal merit; and began to fear that the coldness and insensibility of
Emmeline, which he had, till now, supposed perseverance would vanquish,
were less occasioned by her affected blindness to his own perfections,
than by her prepossession in favour of another.
Whatever internal displeasure this idea of rivalry gave the Chevalier,
he overwhelmed Godolphin with professions of regard and esteem, not the
less warm for being wholly insincere.
But Godolphin, who saw, in the encreasing dejection of Emmeline, only a
confirmation of her attachment to Delamere, drooped in hopeless
despondence. Emmeline, unable to support herself, retired early to her
room; and Godolphin, complaining of fatigue, was conducted to his by
Bellozane; while Lord Westhaven meditated how to disclose to his wife,
without too much distressing her, the illness of her brother. He
thought, that as she had suffered a good deal of vexation in the course
of the day, as well as terror at Emmeline's absence at so late an hour
in the evening, he would defer till the next morning this unwelcome
intelligence. As soon, however, as she was retired, he communicated to
his uncle and aunt the situation of Lord Delamere, and the necessity
there was for their quitting St. Alpin the next day, to attend him; an
account which they both heard with sincere regret. Mrs. St. Alpin
heartily wished Lord Delamere was with _her_, being persuaded she could
immediately cure him with remedies of her own preparing; while the Baron
expressed his vexation and regret to find the visit of his nephews so
much shortened.
Lord Westhaven went to his own apartment in great uneasiness. He heard
from his brother, that Lord Delamere, repenting of his renunciation of
Emmeline, was coming to St. Alpin, when illness stopped him at Besançon.
He knew not how to act about her; who, heiress to a large fortune, was
of so much more consequence than she had been hitherto supposed. He had
a long contention in view with Lord Montreville; and was now likely to
be embarrassed with the passion of Delamere, if he recovered, (who would
certainly expect his influence over Emmeline to be exerted to obtain his
pardon); or if the event of his illness should prove fatal, he dreaded
the anguish of Lady Westhaven and the despair of the whole family.
He was besides hurt at that melancholy and unhappy appearance, so unlike
his former manners, which he had observed in Godolphin; and for which,
ignorant of his passion for Emmeline, he knew not how to account. His
short conversation with him had cleared up no part of the mystery which
he could not but perceive hung about the affairs of Lady Adelina; and he
only knew enough to discover that something remained which it would
probably pain him to know thoroughly.
The pillow of Emmeline also was strewn with thorns. For tho' the
sharpest of them was removed, by having heard that Delamere was ill
without having suffered from the event of any dispute in which he might
on her account have engaged, she was extremely unhappy that he had, in
pursuit of her, come to France, which she now concluded must be the
case, and sorry for the disquiet which she foresaw must arise from his
indisposition and his love.
She was sure that Lady Westhaven would immediately fly to her brother.
And in that event how was she herself to act?
Could she suffer her generous, her tender friend, to whom she was so
much obliged, to encounter alone all the fatigue and anxiety to which
the sickness and danger of this beloved brother would probably expose
her? Yet could she submit to the appearance of seeking a man who had so
lately renounced her for ever, with coldness, contempt, and insult? If
she went not with Lady Westhaven, she had no choice but that of
travelling across France alone, to rejoin Mrs. Stafford; since she could
not remain with propriety a moment at St. Alpin, with the Chevalier de
Bellozane; whose addresses she never meant to encourage, and whose
importunate passion persecuted and distressed her. Godolphin
too!--whither would Godolphin go? Could she go where he was, and conceal
her partiality? or could she, by accompanying him to Besançon, plunge
another dagger in the heart of Delamere, and shew him, not only that he
had lost that portion of her regard he had once possessed, but that all
her love was now given to another.
That she was most partial to Godolphin, she could no longer attempt to
conceal from herself. The moment her fears that he had met Delamere
hostilely were removed, all her tenderness for him returned with new
force. She again saw all the merit, all the nobleness of his character;
but she still tormented herself with uneasy conjectures as to the cause
of his journey to Switzerland; and wearied herself with considering how
she ought to act, 'till towards morning, when falling, thro' mere
fatigue and lassitude, into a short slumber, she saw multiplied and
exaggerated, in dreams, the dreadful images which had disturbed her
waking; and starting up in terror, determined no more to attempt to
sleep. It was now day break; and wrapping herself in her muslin morning
gown and cloak, she went down into the garden of Mrs. St. Alpin, where,
seated on a bench, under a row of tall walnut trees, which divided it
from the vineyard, she leaned her head against one of them; and lost in
reflections on the strangeness of her fate, and the pain of her
situation, she neither saw or heard any thing around her.
Godolphin, in the anxiety she had expressed for Delamere, believed he
saw a confirmation of his fears; which had always been that the early
impression he had made on her heart would be immoveable, and that
neither his having renounced her or his rash and heedless temper would
prevent her continuing to love him. Wretched in this idea, he concluded
all hopes of obtaining her regard for ever at an end; while every hour's
experience of his own feelings, whether he thought of or saw her,
convinced him that his love, however desperate, was incurable.
Accustomed to fatigue, all that he had endured the day before could not
restore to him that repose which was driven away by these reflections.
Almost as soon as he saw it was light, he left his room, and with less
interest than he would once have taken in such a survey, wandered over
the antique apartments of the paternal house of his mother. He then went
down into the garden; and musing rather than observing, passed along the
strait walk that went between the walnut trees into the vineyard. At the
end of it he turned, and, in coming again towards the house, saw
Emmeline sitting on the bench beneath them, who had not seen him the
first time he passed her, but who now appeared surprised at his
approach.
She had not, however, time to rise before he went up to her, and bowing
gravely, enquired how she did after the alarm he had been so unfortunate
as to give her the evening before?
'I fear,' said he, seating himself by her, 'that Miss Mowbray is yet
indisposed from her late walk and my inconsiderate address to her. I
know not how to forgive myself for my indiscretion, since it has
distressed you.'
'Such intelligence as I had the misfortune of hearing, Sir, of the
brother of Lady Westhaven--a brother so dear to her--could hardly fail
of affecting me. I should have been concerned had a stranger been so
circumstanced; but when--'
'Ah! Madam,' interrupted Godolphin, 'you need not repeat all the claims
which give the fortunate Delamere a right to your favour. But do not
suffer yourself, on his account, to be so extremely alarmed. I hope the
danger is by no means so great as to make his recovery hopeless. Since
of those we love, the most minute account is not tedious, and since it
may, perhaps, alleviate your apprehensions for his safety, will you
allow me to relate all I know of his illness! It will engage me,
perhaps, in a detail of our first acquaintance, and carry me back to
circumstances which I would wish to forget; if your gratification was
not in my mind a consideration superior to every other.'
Emmeline, trembling, yet wishing to hear all, could not refuse. She
bowed in silence; and Godolphin considering that as an assent, reassumed
his discourse.
* * * * *
'Soon after I had the happiness of seeing you last, my wish to embrace
Lady Clancarryl and her family (from whose house I had been long obliged
to absent myself because Mr. Fitz-Edward was with them) carried me to
Ireland; and to my astonishment I there met Lord Delamere.
'The relationship between their families, made my sister anxiously
invite him to Lough Carryl. Thither reluctantly he came; and an accident
informed him that I had the good fortune, by means of Lady Adelina
Trelawny, to be known to you.
'He did me the honour to shew me particular attention; and the morning
after he found I had the happiness of being acquainted with Miss
Mowbray, he took occasion, when we were alone, to ask me, abruptly,
whether I knew Colonel Fitz-Edward? I answered that I certainly did, by
the connection in our families; and that he was once my most intimate
friend.
'He then unreservedly, and with vehemence said, that Fitz-Edward was a
villain! Astonished and hurt at an assertion which (how true soever it
might be) I thought alluded to that unhappy affair which I hoped was a
secret, I eagerly asked an explanation. But judge, Miss Mowbray, of the
astonishment, the pain, with which I heard him impute to you the error
of my unfortunate Adelina--when I saw him take out three anonymous
letters, one of which I found had hastened his return from France,
purporting that Fitz-Edward had availed himself of his absence to win
your affections, that he had taken, of those affections, the most
ungenerous advantage, and that on going to a place named (which I
remembered to be the house where my little William was nursed,) he might
himself see an unequivocal proof of your fatal attachment and
Fitz-Edward's perfidy.
'When I had read these odious letters, and listened to several
circumstances he related, which confirmed in his apprehension the truth
of the assertions they contained, he went on to inform me, that
following this cruel information, he had seen you with the infant in
your arms; had bitterly reproached you, and then had quitted you for
ever!--But as he could not rest without trying to punish the infamous
conduct of Fitz-Edward, he had pursued him to Ireland, where, instead of
finding him, he heard that he was gone to France, undoubtedly to meet
you, by your own appointment; but as Lord Clancarryl still expected him
back, he determined to wait a little longer, in hopes of an opportunity
of discussing with him the subjects of complaint he had related.
'Tho' I immediately saw what I ought to do, astonishment for a moment
kept me silent, and in that moment we were interrupted.
'This delay, however unwelcome, gave me time for reflection. Lord
Delamere was to go the same day from Lough Carryl to Dublin. I resolved
to follow him thither, and relate the whole truth; since I would by no
means suffer your generous and exalted friendship for my sister to stain
the lovely purity of a character which only the malice of fiends could
delight in blasting, only the blind and infatuated rashness of jealousy
a moment believe capable of blemish! Many reasons induced me, however,
to delay this necessary explanation 'till I saw him at his own lodgings.
Thither I followed him, two days after he departed from Lough Carryl.
But on enquiring for him, was surprised and mortified to find that he
had received letters from England which had induced him immediately to
return thither, and that he had sailed in the packet for Holyhead the
day after his arrival at Dublin.'
Emmeline, astonished at the malice which appeared to have been exerted
against her, remained silent; but in such tremor, that it was with
difficulty she continued to hear him.
'I now, therefore, relinquished all thoughts of returning to the house
of my sister, and followed him by the first conveyance that offered,
greatly apprehending, that if the letters he had received gave him
notice of Fitz-Edward's return to London, my interposition would be too
late to prevent their meeting. I knew the hasty and inconsiderate
Delamere would, without an explanation, so conduct himself towards
Fitz-Edward, that neither his spirit or his profession would permit him
to bear; and that if they met, the consequence must, to one of them, be
fatal. I was impatient too to rescue your name, Madam, from the
unmerited aspersions which it bore. But when I arrived in London, and
hastened to Berkley-Square, I heard that Lord and Lady Montreville,
together with Lady Frances Crofts, her husband, and Lord Delamere, had
gone all together to Audley Hall, immediately after his return from
Ireland. Thither, therefore, I went also.'
'Generous, considerate Godolphin!' sighed Emmeline to herself.
'Tho' related, by my brother's marriage, to the family of the Marquis of
Montreville, I was a stranger to every member of it but Lord Delamere.
He was gone to dine out; and in the rest of the family I observed an air
of happiness and triumph, which Lord Montreville informed me was
occasioned by the marriage which was intended soon to take place between
his son and Miss Otley; whose immense fortune, and near relationship to
his mother's family, had made such a marriage particularly desirable. I
was glad to hear he was likely to be happy; but it was not therefore the
less necessary to clear up the error into which he had fallen. On his
coming home, he appeared pleased and surprised to see me; but I saw in
his looks none of that satisfaction which was so evident in those of the
rest of the house.
'As soon as we were alone, he said to me--"You see me, Mr. Godolphin, at
length taken in the toils. Immediately after leaving Lough Carryl, I
received a letter from a person in London, whom I had employed for that
purpose, which informed me that he heard, at the office of the agent to
Fitz-Edward's regiment, that he was certainly to be in town in a few
days. He named, indeed, the exact time; and I, who imagined that pains
had been taken to keep us from meeting, determined to return to England
instantly, that he might not again avoid me. On reaching London,
however, I found that the intelligence I had received was wholly
unfounded, and originated in the mistake of a clerk in the agent's
office. None knew where Fitz-Edward was, or when he would return; and
though I wrote to enquire at Rouen, where I imagined the residence of
Miss Mowbray might induce him to remain, I have yet had no answer. The
entreaties and tears of my mother prevailed on me to come down hither;
and reckless of what becomes of me, since Emmeline is undoubtedly lost
to me for ever, I have yielded to the remonstrance of my father and the
prayers of my mother, and have consented to marry a woman whom I cannot
love. Let not Fitz-Edward, however, imagine," (vehemently and fiercely
he spoke) "that he is with impunity to escape; and that tho' my
vengeance may be delayed, I can _forgive_ the man who has basely robbed
me of her whom I _could_ love--whom I _did_ love--even to madness!"
'I own to you, Madam, that when I found this unfortunate young man had
put into his father's hands the promise you had given him, and that it
was returned to you, I felt at once pity for him, and--hope for myself,
which, 'till then, I had never dared to indulge.'
Godolphin had never been thus explicit before. Pale as death, and
deprived of the power as well as of the inclination to interrupt him,
Emmeline awaited, in breathless silence, the close of this extraordinary
narrative.
'It was now,' reassumed he, 'my turn to speak. And trusting to his
honour for his silence about my unhappy sister, I revealed to him the
whole truth. I at once cleared your character from unjust blame, and, I
hope, did justice to those exalted virtues to which I owe so much. I
will not shock your gentle and generous bosom with a relation of the
wild phrenzy, the agonies of regret and repentance, into which this
relation threw Lord Delamere. Concerned at the confusion his reproaches
and his anguish had occasioned to the whole family, I lamented that I
could not explain to _them_ what I had said to _him_, which had produced
so sudden a change in his sentiments about you; but to such women as the
Marchioness of Montreville and her daughter, I could not relate the
unhappiness of my poor Adelina; and Delamere steadily refused to tell
them how he became convinced of your innocence, and the wicked arts
which had been used to mislead him; which he openly imputed to the
family of the Crofts', against whom his fiery and vindictive spirit
turned all the rage it had till now cherished against Fitz-Edward.
'The Marquis, tho' extremely hurt, had yet candour enough to own, that
if I was convinced that the causes of complaint which his son had
against you were ill founded, I had done well in removing them. Yet I
saw that he wished I had been less anxious for the vindication of
innocence; and he beheld, with an uneasy and suspicious eye, what he
thought officious interference in the affairs of his family. I observed,
too, that he believed when the influence that he supposed I had over the
mind of Lord Delamere was removed, he should be able to bring him back
to his engagements with Miss Otley, which had, I found, been hurried on
with the utmost precipitation. The ladies, who had at first overwhelmed
me with civilities, now appeared so angry, that notwithstanding Lord
Delamere's entreaties that I would stay with him till he could determine
how to act, I immediately returned to London; and from thence, after
passing a week with Adelina, whom I had only seen for a few hours since
my return from Ireland, I set out for St. Alpin.'
'But Lord Delamere, Sir?' said Emmeline, inarticulately.
'Alas! Madam,' dejectedly continued Godolphin, 'I mean not to entertain
you on what relates to myself; but to hasten to that which I farther
have to say of the fortunate Delamere! I waited a few days at
Southampton for a wind; and then landing at Havre, proceeded to St.
Germains, where Mrs. Stafford's last letters had informed Adelina she
was settled. I knew, too, that you were gone with my brother and Lady
Westhaven to St. Alpin. Mrs. Stafford had only the day before forwarded
to you Lord Montreville's letter, which, by one from his Lordship to
herself, she knew contained the promise you had given Lord Delamere. She
said, that this renunciation would give you no pain. She made me hope
that your heart was not irrevocably his. Ah! why did I suffer such
illusions to lead me on to this conviction! But pray forgive me, lovely
Miss Mowbray! I am still talking of myself. From St. Germains I made as
much haste as possible to Besançon. I rode post; and, just as I got off
my horse at the hotel, was accosted by a French servant, whom I knew
belonged to Lord Delamere.
'The man expressed great joy at seeing me, and besought me to go with
him to his master, who, he said, had, thro' fatigue and the heat of the
weather, been seized with a fever, and was unable to proceed to St.
Alpin, whither he was going.
'I was extremely concerned at his journey; and, I hope, not so selfish
as to be unmoved by his illness. I found, indeed, his fever very high,
but greatly irritated and encreased by his impatience. As soon as he saw
me, he told me that he was hurrying to St. Alpin, in hopes of obtaining
your pardon; that he had broke off his engagement with Miss Otley, and
never would return to England till he carried you thither as his wife.
'"I am now well enough to go on, indeed Godolphin," added he, "and if I
can but see her!----"
'I was by no means of opinion that he was in a condition to travel. His
fever encreased; after I left him in the evening, he grew delirious; and
Millefleur, terrified, came to call me to him. I sat up with him for
the rest of the night; and being accustomed to attend invariably to the
illness of men on ship board, I thought I might venture, from my
experience, to direct a change in the method which the physician he had
sent for pursued. In a few hours he grew better, and the delirium left
him; but he was then convinced that he was too weak to proceed on his
journey.
'He knew I was coming hither, and he entreated me to hasten my
departure. "Go, my good friend," said he--"send Augusta to me. She will
bring with her the generous, the forgiving angel, whom my rash folly has
dared to injure! She will behold my penitence; and, if her pardon can be
obtained, it will restore me to life; but if I cannot see them--if I
linger many days longer in suspence, my illness must be fatal!"
'As I really did not think him in great danger, and saw every proper
care was now taken of him, determined to come on; not only because I
wished to save Lady Westhaven the pain of hearing of his illness by any
other means, but because--'
He was proceeding, when a deep and convulsive sigh from Emmeline made
him look in her face, from which he had hitherto kept his eyes, (unable
to bear the varying expressions it had shewn of what he thought her
concern for Delamere.) He now beheld her, quite pale, motionless, and to
all appearance lifeless. Her sense of what she owed to the generosity of
Godolphin; her concern for Delamere; and the dread of those contending
passions which she foresaw would embitter her future life, added to the
sleepless night and fatigueing day she had passed, had totally overcome
her. Godolphin flew for assistance. The servants were by this time up,
and ran to her. Among the first of them was Le Limosin, who expressed
infinite anxiety and concern for her, and assiduously exerted himself in
carrying her into the house; where she soon recovered, begged
Godolphin's pardon for the trouble she had given, and was going to her
own room, led by Madelon, when Bellozane suddenly appeared, and offered
his assistance, which Emmeline faintly declining, moved on.
Godolphin, who could not bear to leave her in such a state, walked
slowly by her, tho' she had refused his arm. The expression of his
countenance, while his eyes were eagerly fixed on her face, would have
informed any one less interested than Bellozane, of what passed in his
heart; and the Chevalier surveyed him with looks of angry observation,
which did not escape Emmeline, ill as she was. On arriving, therefore,
at the foot of the staircase, she besought, in English, Godolphin to
leave her, which he instantly did. She then told the Chevalier that she
would by no means trouble him to attend her farther; and he, satisfied
that no preference was shewn to his cousin, at least in this instance,
bowed, and returned with him into the room where they usually assembled
in a morning, and where they found Lord Westhaven.