CHAPTER V

His Lordship told them that Lady Westhaven had been less alarmed at the

account he had given her of Delamere than he had apprehended; and that

she was preparing to begin their journey towards him immediately after

breakfast.

'I must send,' continued he, 'Miss Mowbray to her; who is, I understand,

already up and walking.'

Bellozane then informed his Lordship of what he knew of Emmeline. But

Godolphin was silent: he dared not trust himself with speaking much of

her; he dared not relate her illness, lest the cause of it should be

enquired into. 'Does Miss Mowbray go with my sister?' asked he.

'That I know not,' replied Lord Westhaven. 'Augusta will very

reluctantly go without her. Yet her situation in regard to Lord Delamere

is such'--He ceased speaking; looked embarrassed; and, soon after, the

Chevalier quitting the room, before whom civility would not allow them

to converse long in English, and to whom his Lordship thought he had no

right to reveal the real situation of Emmeline, while it yet remained

unknown to others, he related to his brother the circumstances of the

discovery that had been made of her birth, and of her consequent claim

to the Mowbray estate.

Godolphin, who would, from the obscurest indigence, have chosen her in

preference to all other women, heard this account with pleasure, only as

supposing that independance might be grateful to her sensibility, and

affluence favourable to the liberality of her spirit. But the

satisfaction he derived from these reflections, was embittered and

nearly destroyed, when he considered, that her acquiring so large a

fortune would make her alliance eagerly sought by the very persons who

had before scorned and rejected her; and that all the family would unite

in persuading her to forgive Delamere, the more especially as this would

be the only means to keep in it the Mowbray estate, and to preclude the

necessity of refunding the income which had been received for so many

years, and which now amounted to a great sum of money. When the pressing

instances of all her own family, and particularly of Lady Westhaven,

whom she so tenderly loved, were added to the affection he believed she

had invariably felt for Delamere, he thought it impossible that her

pride, however it might have been piqued by the desertion of her lover,

could make any effort against a renewal of her engagement; and his own

hopes, which he had never cherished till he was convinced Delamere had

given her up, and which had been weakened by her apparent affection for

him, were by this last event again so nearly annihilated, that, no

longer conscious he retained any, he fancied himself condemned still to

love, serve, and adore the object of his passion, without making any

effort to secure it's success, or being permitted to appear otherwise

than as her friend. He was vexed that he had been unguardedly explicit,

in telling her that he had ever indulged those hopes at all; since he

now feared it would be the means of depriving her conversation and her

manner, when they were together, of that charming frankness, of which,

tho' it rivetted his chains and encreased his torments, he could not

bear to be deprived. Melancholy and desponding, he continued long silent

after Lord Westhaven ceased speaking. Suddenly, however, awakening from

his reverie, he said--'Does your Lordship think Miss Mowbray _ought_ to

go to meet Lord Delamere?'

'Upon my word I know not how to advise: my wife is miserable without

her, and fancies the sight of her will immediately restore Delamere. On

the other hand, I believe Emmeline herself will with reluctance take a

step that will perhaps, appear like forcing herself into the notice of a

man from whom she has received an affront which it is hardly in female

nature to forgive.'

They were now interrupted by Bellozane, who flew about the house in

evident uneasiness and confusion. He did not yet know how Emmeline was

to be disposed of: he saw that Lord Westhaven was himself uncertain of

it; and he had been applying for information to Le Limosin and Madelon,

who had yet received no orders to prepare for her departure.

While Emmeline had created in the bosoms of others so much anxiety, she

was herself tortured with the cruellest uncertainty. Unable to resolve

how she ought to act, she had yet determined on nothing, when Lady

Westhaven sent for her, who, as soon as she entered the room, said--'My

dear Emmeline, are you not preparing for our journey?'

'How can I, dearest Madam--how can I, with any propriety, go where Lord

Delamere is? After the separation which has now so decidedly and

irrevocably taken place between us, shall I intrude again on his

Lordship's sight? and solicit a return of that regard with which I most

sincerely wish he had forborne to honour me?'

'You are piqued, my lovely friend; and I own with great reason. But Mr.

Godolphin has undoubtedly told you that poor Frederic is truly penitent;

that he has taken this journey merely to deprecate your just anger and

to solicit his pardon. Will my Emmeline, generous and gentle as she is

to others, be inexorable only to him? Besides, my sweet coz, pray

consider a moment, what else can you do? You certainly would not wish to

stay here? Surely you would not travel alone to St. Germains. And let me

add my own hopes that you will not quit me now, when poor Frederic's

illness, and my own precarious health, make your company not merely

pleasant but necessary.'

'That is indeed a consideration which must have great force with me.

When Lady Westhaven commands, how shall I disobey, even tho' to obey be

directly contrary to my judgment and my wishes.'

'Commands, my dear friend,' very gravely, and with an air of chagrin,

said her Ladyship, 'are neither for me to give or for you to receive.

Certainly if you are so determined against going with me, I must submit.

But I did not indeed think that Emmeline, however the brother may have

offended her, would thus have resented it to the sister.'

'I should be a monster, Lady Westhaven,' (hardly was she able to

restrain her tears as she spoke,)--'was I a moment capable of forgetting

all I owe you. But do you really think I _ought_ again to put myself in

the way of Lord Delamere--again to renew all the family contention which

his very unfortunate partiality for me has already occasioned; and again

to hazard being repulsed with contempt by the Marquis, and still more

probably by the Marchioness of Montreville. My lot has hitherto been

humble: I have learned to submit to it, if not without regret, at least

with calmness and resignation; yet pardon me if I say, that however

unhappy my fortune, there is still something due to myself; and if I

again make myself liable to the humiliation of being _refused_, I shall

feel that I am degraded in mind, as much as I have been in

circumstances, and lost to that proper pride to which innocence and

rectitude has in the lowest indigence a right, and which cannot be

relinquished but with the loss of virtue.'

The spirit which Emmeline thought herself obliged to exert, was

immediately lost in softness and in sorrow when she beheld Lady

Westhaven in tears; who, sobbing, said--'Go then, Miss Mowbray!--Go, my

dear Emmeline! (for dear you must ever be to me) leave _me_ to be

unhappy and poor Frederic to die.'

'Hear me, my dear Madam!' answered she with quickness--'If to _you_ I

can be of the least use, I will hesitate no longer; but let it then be

understood that I go _with_ you, and by no means _to_ Lord Delamere.'

'It shall be so understood--be assured, my love, it shall! You will not,

then, leave me?--You will see my poor brother?'

'My best, my dearest friend,' replied Emmeline, collecting all her

fortitude, 'hear me without resentment explain to you at once the real

situation of my heart in regard to Lord Delamere. I feel for him the

truest concern; I feel it for him even to a painful excess; and I have

an affection for him, a sisterly affection for him, which I really

believe is little inferior to your own. But I will not deceive you; nor,

since I am to meet him, will I suffer him to entertain hopes that it is

impossible for me to fulfil. To be considered as the friend, as the

sister of Lord Delamere, is one of the first wishes my heart now

forms--against ever being his wife, I am resolutely determined.'

'Impossible!--Surely you cannot have made such a resolution?'

'I have indeed!--Nor will any consideration on earth induce me from that

determination to recede.'

'And is it anger and resentment only have raised in your heart this

decided enmity to my poor brother? Or is it, that any other----'

Emmeline, whose colourless cheeks were suffused with a deep blush at

this speech, hastily interrupted it.--

'Whatever, dear Lady Westhaven, are my motives for the decision, it is

irrevocable; as Lord Delamere's sister, I shall be honoured, if I am

allowed to consider myself.--As such, if my going with you to Besançon

will give you a day's--an hour's satisfaction, I go.'

'Get ready then, my love. But indeed, cruel girl, if such is your

resolution it were better to leave you here, than take you only to shew

Lord Delamere all he has lost, while you deprive him of all hopes of

regaining you. But I will yet flatter myself you do not mean all

this.--"At lovers' perjuries they say Jove laughs."--And those of my

fair cousin will be forgiven, should she break her angry vow and receive

her poor penitent. Come, let us hasten to begin our journey to him; for

tho' that dear Godolphin, whom I shall love as long as I live,' (ah!

thought Emmeline, and so shall I) 'assures me he does not think him in

any danger, my heart will sadly ache till I see him myself.'

Emmeline then left her to put up her cloaths and prepare for a journey

to which she was determined solely by the pressing instances of Lady

Westhaven. To herself she foresaw only uneasiness and embarrassment; and

even found a degree of cruelty in permitting Lord Delamere to feed, by

her consenting to attend him, those hopes to which she now could never

accede, unless by condemning herself to the most wretched of all

lots--that of marrying one man while her love was another's. The late

narrative which she had heard from Godolphin, encreased her affection

for him, and took from her every wish to oppose it's progress; and tho'

she was thus compelled to see Delamere, she determined not to deceive

him, but to tell him ingenuously that he had lost all that tenderness

which her friendship and long acquaintance with him would have induced

her to cherish, had not his own conduct destroyed it--

But it was hardly less necessary to own to him part of the truth, than

to conceal the rest. Should he suspect that Godolphin was his rival, and

a rival fondly favoured, she knew that his pride, his jealousy, his

resentment, would hurry him into excesses more dreadful, than any that

had yet followed his impetuous love or his unbridled passions.

The apprehensions that he must, if they were long together, discover it,

were more severely distressing than any she had yet felt; and she

resolved, both now and when they reached Besançon, to keep the strictest

guard on her words and looks; and to prevent if possible her real

sentiments being known to Delamere, to Lady Westhaven, and to Godolphin

himself.

So painful and so difficult appeared the dissimulation necessary for

that end; and so contrary did she feel it to her nature, that she was

withheld only by her love to Lady Westhaven from flying to England with

Mrs. Stafford; and should she be restored to her estate, she thought

that the only chance she had of tranquillity would be to hide herself

from Delamere, whom she at once pitied and dreaded, and from Godolphin,

whom she tenderly loved, in the silence and seclusion of Mowbray Castle.

Her embarrassment and uneasiness were encreased, when, on her joining

Lord and Lady Westhaven, whose carriages and baggage were now ready, she

found that the Chevalier de Bellozane had insisted on escorting them; an

offer which they had no pretence to refuse. On her taking leave of the

Baron, he very warmly and openly recommended his son to her favour; and

Mrs. St. Alpin, who was very fond of her, repeated her wishes that she

would listen to her nephew; and both with unfeigned concern saw their

English visitors depart. Captain Godolphin had a place in his brother's

chaise; Madelon occupied that which on the former journey was filled by

Bellozane in the coach, the Chevalier now proceeding on horseback.

During the journey, Emmeline was low and dejected; from which she was

sometimes roused by impatient enquiries and fearful apprehensions which

darted into her mind, of what was to happen at the end of it. Every

thing he observed, confirmed Godolphin in his persuasion that her heart

was wholly Delamere's: her behaviour to himself was civil, but even

studiously distant; while the unreserved and ardent addresses of

Bellozane, who made no mystery of his pretensions, she repulsed with yet

more coldness and severity: and tho' towards Lord and Lady Westhaven the

sweetness of her manners was yet preserved, she seemed overwhelmed with

sadness, and her vivacity was quite lost.

As soon as they reached Besançon, Lord Westhaven directed the carriages

to stop at another hotel, while he went with his brother to that where

Lord Delamere was. At the door, they met Millefleur; who, overjoyed to

see them, related, that since Mr. Godolphin left his master the violence

of his impatience had occasioned a severe relapse, in which, according

to the orders Mr. Godolphin had given, the surgeons had bled and

blistered him; that he was now again better, but very weak; yet so

extremely ungovernable and self-willed, that the French people who

attended him could do nothing with him, and that his English footmen,

and Millefleur himself, were forced to be constantly in his room to

prevent his leaving it or committing some other excess that might again

irritate the fever and bring on alarming symptoms. They hastened to him;

and found not only that his fever still hung on him, tho' with less

violence, but that he was also extremely emaciated; and that only his

youth had supported him thro' so severe an illness, or could now enable

him to struggle with it's effects.

The moment they entered the room, he enquired after his sister and

Emmeline; and hearing the latter was actually come, he protested he

would instantly go to her.

Lord Westhaven and Godolphin resolutely opposed so indiscreet a plan:

the former, by his undeviating rectitude of mind and excellent sense,

had acquired a greater ascendant over Delamere than any of his family

had before possessed; and to the latter he thought himself so much

obliged, that he could not refuse to attend to him. He consented

therefore at length to remain where he was; and Lord Westhaven hastened

back to his wife, whom he led immediately to her brother.

She embraced him with many tears; and was at first greatly shocked at

his altered countenance and reduced figure. But as Lord Westhaven and

Godolphin both assured her there was no longer any danger if he would

consent to be governed, she was soothed into hope of his speedy recovery

and soon became tolerably composed.

As Lord Westhaven and Godolphin soon left them alone, he began to talk

to his sister of Emmeline. He told her, that when he had been undeceived

by Mr. Godolphin, and the scandalous artifices discovered which had

raised in his mind such injurious suspicions, he had declared to Lord

and Lady Montreville his resolution to proceed no farther in the treaty

which they had hurried on with Miss Otley, and had solicited their

consent, to his renewing and fulfilling that, which he had before

entered into with Miss Mowbray; but that his mother, with more anger and

acrimony than ever, had strongly opposed his wishes; and that his father

had forbidden him, on pain of his everlasting displeasure, ever again to

think of Emmeline.

After having for some time, he said, combated their inveterate

prejudice, he had left them abruptly, and set out with his three

servants for St. Alpin, (where Godolphin informed him Emmeline was to

be;) when a fever, owing to heat and fatigue, seized and confined him

where he now was.

'Ah, tell me, my sister, what hopes are there that Emmeline will pardon

me? May I dare enquire whether she is yet to be moved in my favour?'

Lady Westhaven, who during their journey could perceive no symptoms that

her resolution was likely to give way, dared not feed him with false

hopes; yet unwilling to depress him by saying all she feared, she told

him that Emmeline was greatly and with justice offended; but that all he

could at present do, was to take care of his health. She entreated him

to consider the consequence of another relapse, which might be brought

on by his eagerness and emotion; and then conjuring him to keep all he

knew of Lady Adelina a secret from Lord Westhaven (the necessity of

which he already had heard from Godolphin) she left him and returned to

Emmeline.

To avoid the importunity of Bellozane, and the melancholy looks of

Godolphin, which affected her with the tenderest sorrow, she had retired

to a bed chamber, where she waited the return of Lady Westhaven with

impatience.

Her solicitude for Delamere was very great; and her heart greatly

lightened when she found that even his tender and apprehensive sister

did not think him in any immediate danger, and believed that a few days

would put him out of hazard even of a relapse.

She now again thought, that since Lady Westhaven had nothing to fear for

his life, her presence would be less necessary; and her mind, the longer

it thought of Mowbray Castle, adhering with more fondness to her plan of

flying thither, she considered how she might obtain in a few days Lady

Westhaven's consent to the preliminary measure of quitting Besançon.

Emmeline, the Orphan of the Castle · 第 5 / 16 章