Part 45 (1/2)

'Thus she would have it,' said Glas...o...b..ry. 'She clings to them, who love her indeed as a daughter; and she shrank from the desolation that was preparing for them.'

'Poor girl!' said Lord Montfort, 'and poor Armine! By heavens, I pity him from the bottom of my heart.'

'If you had seen him as I have,' said Glas...o...b..ry, 'wilder than the wildest Bedlamite! It was an awful sight.'

'Ah! the heart, the heart,' said Lord Montfort: 'it is a delicate organ, Mr. Glas...o...b..ry. And think you his father and mother suspect nothing?'

'I know not what they think,' said Glas...o...b..ry, 'but they must soon know all.' And he seemed to shudder at the thought.

'Why must they?' asked Lord Montfort.

Glas...o...b..ry stared.

'Is there no hope of softening and subduing all their sorrows?' said Lord Montfort; 'cannot we again bring together these young and parted spirits?'

'It is my only hope,' said Glas...o...b..ry, 'and yet I sometimes deem it a forlorn one.'

'It is the sole desire of Henrietta,' said Lord Montfort; 'cannot you a.s.sist us? Will you enter into this conspiracy of affection with us?'

'I want no spur to such a righteous work,' said Glas...o...b..ry, 'but I cannot conceal from myself the extreme difficulty. Ferdinand is the most impetuous of human beings. His pa.s.sions are a whirlwind; his volition more violent than becomes a suffering mortal.'

'You think, then, there is no difficulty but with him?'

'I know not what to say,' said Glas...o...b..ry; 'calm as appears the temperament of Miss Grandison, she has heroic qualities. Oh! what have I not seen that admirable young lady endure! Alas! my Digby, my dear lord, few pa.s.sages of this terrible story are engraven on my memory more deeply than the day when I revealed to her the fatal secret. Yet, and chiefly for her sake, it was my duty.'

'It was at Armine?'

'At Armine. I seized an opportunity when we were alone together, and without fear of being disturbed. We had gone to view an old abbey in the neighbourhood. We were seated among its ruins, when I took her hand and endeavoured to prepare her for the fatal intelligence, ”All is not right with Ferdinand,” she immediately said; ”there is some mystery. I have long suspected it.” She listened to my recital, softened as much as I could for her sake, in silence. Yet her paleness I never can forget. She looked like a saint in a niche. When I had finished, she whispered me to leave her for some short time, and I walked away, out of sight indeed, but so near that she might easily summon me. I stood alone until it was twilight, in a state of mournful suspense that I recall even now with anguish. At last I heard my name sounded, in a low yet distinct voice, and I looked round and she was there. She had been weeping. I took her hand and pressed it, and led her to the carriage. When I approached our unhappy home, she begged me to make her excuses to the family, and for two or three days we saw her no more. At length she sent for me, and told me she had been revolving all these sad circ.u.mstances in her mind, and she felt for others more even than for herself; that she forgave Ferdinand, and pitied him, and would act towards him as a sister; that her heart was distracted with the thoughts of the unhappy young lady, whose name she would never know, but that if by her a.s.sistance I could effect their union, means should not be wanting, though their source must be concealed; that for the sake of her aunt, to whom she is indeed pa.s.sionately attached, she would keep the secret, until it could no longer be maintained; and that in the meantime it was to be hoped that health might be restored to her cousin, and Providence in some way interfere in favour of this unhappy family.'

'Angelic creature!' said Lord Montfort. 'So young, too; I think so beautiful. Good G.o.d! with such a heart what could Armine desire?'

'Alas!' said Glas...o...b..ry, and he shook his head. 'You know not the love of Ferdinand Armine for Henrietta Temple. It is a wild and fearful thing; it pa.s.seth human comprehension.'

Lord Montfort leant back in his chair, and covered his face with his hands. After some minutes he looked up, and said in his usual placid tone, and with an' unruffled brow, 'Will you take anything before you go, Mr. Glas...o...b..ry?'

CHAPTER X.

_In Which Captain Armine Increases His Knowledge of the Value of Money, and Also Becomes Aware of the Advantage of an Acquaintance Who Burns Coals_.

FERDINAND returned to his hotel in no very good humour, revolving in his mind Miss Temple's advice about optimism. What could she mean? Was there really a conspiracy to make him marry his cousin, and was Miss Temple one of the conspirators? He could scarcely believe this, and yet it was the most probable, deduction from all that had been said and done. He had lived to witness such strange occurrences, that no event ought now to astonish him. Only to think that he had been sitting quietly in a drawing-room with Henrietta Temple, and she avowedly engaged to be married to another person, who was present; and that he, Ferdinand Armine, should be the selected companion of their morning ride, and be calmly invited to contribute to their daily amus.e.m.e.nt by his social presence! What next? If this were not an insult, a gross, flagrant, and unendurable outrage, he was totally at a loss to comprehend what was meant by offended pride. Optimism, indeed! He felt far more inclined to embrace the faith of the Manichee! And what a fool was he to have submitted to such a despicable, such a degrading situation! What infinite weakness not to be able to resist her influence, the influence of a woman who had betrayed him! Yes! betrayed him. He had for some period reconciled his mind to entertain the idea of Henrietta's treachery to him. Softened by time, atoned for by long suffering, extenuated by the constant sincerity of his purpose, his original imprudence, to use his own phrase in describing his misconduct, had gradually ceased to figure as a valid and sufficient cause for her behaviour to him. When he recollected how he had loved this woman, what he had sacrificed for her, and what misery he had in consequence entailed upon himself and all those dear to him; when he contrasted his present perilous situation with her triumphant prosperity, and remembered that while he had devoted himself to a love which proved false, she who had deserted him was, by a caprice of fortune, absolutely rewarded for her fickleness; he was enraged, he was disgusted, he despised himself for having been her slave; he began even to hate her.

Terrible moment when we first dare to view with feelings of repugnance the being that our soul has long idolised! It is the most awful of revelations. We start back in horror, as if in the act of profanation.

Other annoyances, however, of a less ethereal character, awaited our hero on his return to his hotel. There he found a letter from his lawyer, informing him that he could no longer parry the determination of one of Captain Armine's princ.i.p.al creditors to arrest him instantly for a considerable sum. Poor Ferdinand, mortified and hara.s.sed, with his heart and spirit alike broken, could scarcely refrain from a groan.

However, some step must be taken. He drove Henrietta from his thoughts, and, endeavouring to rally some of his old energy, revolved in his mind what desperate expedient yet remained.

His sleep was broken by dreams of bailiffs, and a vague idea of Henrietta Temple triumphing in his misery; but he rose early, wrote a diplomatic note to his menacing creditor, which he felt confident must gain him time, and then, making a careful toilet, for when a man is going to try to borrow money it is wise to look prosperous, he took his way to a quarter of the town where lived a gentleman with whose brother he had had some previous dealings at Malta, and whose acquaintance he had made in England in reference to them.

It was in that gloomy quarter called Golden-square, the murky repose of which strikes so mysteriously on the senses after the glittering bustle of the adjoining Regent-street, that Captain Armine stopped before a n.o.ble yet now dingy mansion, that in old and happier days might probably have been inhabited by his grandfather, or some of his gay friends. A bra.s.s plate on the door informed the world that here resided Messrs.