Part 24 (2/2)

Jasper Lyle Harriet Ward 55090K 2022-07-22

And they both answered with another laugh, which Captain Walton checked suddenly, as he caught a glimpse of my frightened face. ”Oh! he is quite safe, and very--happy,” said the secretary. ”Well,” said Captain Walton; ”he is coming back overland with the Rashleighs.”

”Yes,” observed Sir Adrian, in a tone, partly of sarcasm and partly of displeasure; ”and he had much better have returned with us. I am by no means satisfied with this arrangement of _Mrs Rashleigh's_.”

I was most bitterly disappointed.

Shame to me, I had nearly forgotten to ask after the welfare of my family. I addressed some agitated questions to Captain Walton, who told me all were well.

He had always been kind in his manner to me, and could readily guess the meaning of my melancholy face. My arm trembled on his as we proceeded to the breakfast-room together--that same room where Clarence Fairfax and I had parted in a crowd.

I would fain pa.s.s over much that followed. I received a letter from my father. He had heard somewhat of Clarence Fairfax's ”conspicuous attentions to me.” He feared Lady Amabel had been ”too indulgent.”

Fairfax was the very person to ”charm a young girl's senses,” but he hoped they were not overcome by a fine form and a bewitching manner. My dear father thought too well of me to suppose that I was enthralled by this lively, das.h.i.+ng, handsome young aide-de-camp, who was, to say truth, at the feet of a lady whose reputation had suffered from her carelessness. Every one indeed spoke of Fairfax as a male coquette.

You see, dear friend, my father would not a.s.sume that I was ”seriously enthralled;” he was not with me to judge for himself. You shall read his letter some day. You will see that though he tried to treat this matter lightly, it weighed upon his mind; he was bent on having me home again. ”My darling,” he says, at the close of this letter, ”write to me at once; you have never mentioned this affair, which others speak of so carelessly, and your silence makes me anxious. In my anxiety I asked your sister if you alluded to Captain Fairfax in your communications with her, but she tells me no. My love, I long to have you with me again. Captain Walton admitted to me that you were looking ill. He is most kind, and enters into my anxieties. He was unwilling, I could see, to commit Fairfax. In a word, dearest Eleanor, he has more respect for Fairfax than that infatuated young man has for himself...”

Then followed directions for my return, under the care of friends about to leave Cape Town for the eastward settlements. They delayed their departure, and I was detained, to Lady Amabel's satisfaction, for she had become attached to me. But, albeit firm in her attachments, she was a person, as you may have discovered, ever open to fresh impressions.

She was as unsuspicious of evil as I was.

Mr Lyle had made his way, and stood in high favour when Sir Adrian arrived.

He was presented, and joined the circle at dinner that day; he took his station at my side--I was sadly abstracted--he was in his most agreeable vein, and drew me from myself, as usual.

I know, dear friend, you will wonder that the letter I received from home was from _my father_. I had always belonged more to him than my mother. Marion, you know, was the favourite in her babyhood; and it was my fault, perhaps, as well as my misfortune, that I was always reserved to my mother. I well recollect her once expressing impatience at that reserve; but I never could shake it off; it exists, as you know, to this day. A sensitive child, once repelled, seldom makes another advance, and I have told you that I entered the world just as the best-beloved one was fading from it. My mother had less thought naturally for me than him. I turned to my father--his arms were open, and I rested there.

You have been a member of our family circle for some weeks now; otherwise, how could I bring myself to cast a shade of reproach on my mother, for whom you have so high a respect? Ah! _you_ will not set it down to wrong account.

You see I linger in my wretched history.

I look again into my journal. 16th March. ”Clarence has returned; at times dejected; at times excited; he is totally unlike his former self.

We are at Newlands again. All these scenes and objects a.s.sociated with happier hours! They bring but bitterness to me. I never approach the fountain of Egeria... When I hear the sound of horses' feet in those long avenues, I fly--I am ill--I cannot rest--and oh, this crowd! how it oppresses me! How I long for a friend to whom I could impart my sorrow.

Oh, for advice!--Dear father! would that I were at home and by thy side. Mother, you would take your stricken daughter to your arms.

Though weak and ill, how strong within me is the power of suffering...”

You say, Major Frankfort, that you love me; I believe you; you will love me ever, for you will ever pity me; and so, knowing what your heart will feel on reading this, I will not _shed_ all my miserable thoughts of this period upon paper.

All this time Lyle was intent upon his purpose. He _felt_ my fate was in his hands.

He took up a new position.

I was sitting one morning in Lady Amabel's boudoir. A servant ushered in Mr Lyle. He started back; ”It was Lady Amabel he came to see,” he said.

I begged him to be seated, and rose to go for her.

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