Volume I Part 25 (1/2)
'Yet, with all this,' said Ellis, looking at him expressively, 'with all this....' she knew not how to proceed; but he saw her meaning. 'With all this,' he said, 'you are surprised, perhaps, that I should look for other qualities, other virtues in her whom I should aspire to make the companion of my life? I beseech you, however, to believe, that neither insolence nor ingrat.i.tude makes me insensible to her worth; but, though it often meets my admiration, sometimes my esteem, and always my good will and regard, it is not of a texture to create that sympathy without which even friends.h.i.+p is cold. I have, indeed ... till now....'
He paused.
'Poor, poor, Miss Joddrel!' exclaimed Ellis, 'If you could but have heard,--or if I knew but how to repeat, even the millionenth part of what she thinks of you!--of the respect with which she is ready to yield to your opinions; of the enthusiasm with which she honours your character; of the devotion with which she nearly wors.h.i.+ps you--'
She stopt short, ashamed; and as fearful that she had been now too urgent, as before that she had been too cold.
Harleigh heard her with considerable emotion. 'I hope,' he said, 'your feelings, like those of most minds gifted with strong sensibility, have taken the pencil, in this portrait, from your cooler judgment? I should be grieved, indeed, to suppose--but what can a man suppose, what say, upon a subject so delicate that may not appear offensive? Suffer me, therefore, to drop it; and have the goodness to let that same sensibility operate in terminating, in such a manner as may be least shocking to her, all view, and all thought, that I ever could, or ever can, entertain the most distant project of supplanting my brother.'
'Will you not, at least, speak to her yourself?'
'I had far rather speak to you!--Yet certainly yes, if she desire it.'
'Give me leave, then, to say,' cried Ellis, moving towards the bedroom door, 'that you request an audience.'
'By no means! I merely do not object to it. You may easily conceive what pain I shall be spared, if it may be evaded. All I request, is a few moments with you! Hastily, therefore, let me ask, is your plan decided?'
'To the best of my power,--of my ideas, rather,--yes. But, indeed, I must not thus abandon my charge!'
'And will you not let me enquire what it is?'
'There is one thing, only, in which I have any hope that my exertions may turn to account; I wish to offer myself as a governess to some young lady, or ladies.'
'I beseech you,' cried he, with sudden fervour, 'to confide to me the nature of your situation! I know well I have no claim; I seem to have even no pretext for such a request; yet there are sometimes circ.u.mstances that not only excuse, but imperiously demand extraordinary measures: perhaps mine, at this moment, are of that sort! perhaps I am at a loss what step to take, till I know to whom I address myself!'
'O Sir!' cried Ellis, holding up her hands in act of supplication, 'you will be heard!'
Harleigh, conscious that he had been off all guard, silenced himself immediately, and walked hastily to the window.
Ellis knew not whether to retire, at once, to her own room; or to venture into that of Elinor; or to require any further answer. This last, however, Harleigh seemed in no state to give: he leant his forehead upon his hand, and remained wrapt in thought.
Ellis, struck by a manner which shewed that he felt, and apparently, repented the possible meaning that his last words might convey, was now as much ashamed for herself as for Elinor; and not wis.h.i.+ng to meet his eyes, glided softly back to her chamber.
Here, whatever might be the fulness of her mind, she was not allowed an instant for reflection: Elinor followed her immediately.
She shut the door, and walked closely up to her. Elinor feared to behold her; yet saw, by a glance, that her eyes were sparkling, and that her face was dressed in smiles. 'This is a glorious day for me!' she cried; ''tis the pride of my life to have brought such a one into the history of my existence!'
Ellis officiously got her a chair; arranged the fire; examined if the windows were well closed; and sought any occupation, to postpone the moment of speaking to, or looking at her.
She was not offended; she did not appear to be hurried; she seemed enchanted with her own ideas; yet she had a strangeness in her manner that Ellis thought extremely alarming.
'Well,' she cried, when she had taken her seat, and saw that Ellis could find no further pretext for employing herself in the little apartment; 'what garb do you bring me? How am I to be arrayed?'
Ellis begged to know what she meant.
'Is it a wedding-garment?' replied she, gaily; 'or ...' abruptly changing her tone into a deep hoa.r.s.e whisper, 'a shroud?'
Ellis, shuddering, durst not answer. Elinor, catching her hand said, 'Don't be frightened! I am at this moment equal to whatever may be my destiny: I am at a point of elevation, that makes my fate nearly indifferent to me. Speak, therefore! but only to the fact. I have neither time nor humour for narratory delays. I tried to hear you; but you both talked so whisperingly, that I could not make out a sentence.'