Volume Iii Part 17 (2/2)
”Mary, you have become very anxious to dispose of your brother.”
”Yes, certainly I am, to such advantage;” then with gaiety which shot a ray of gladsome pleasure from the young man's bright eyes, she added: ”besides, I am as much in love with Carrie as yourself; and she and I are sure to get on well together.”
So Mary was left alone, supposed at least to be calmly happy, when alas, poor girl! to such a desirable condition she was as yet very far from having arrived. No, there was as yet too much of suspense and uncertainty still gnawing within her soul.
It is not all at once, without a struggle, and one backward longing look, that we can resign ourselves to the certainty that the hope and trust on which we had flung our all, has proved a lie. There were two letters yet to come ere she could let the black curtain fall over the past for ever.
Alone too, with a dreamy impression stealing over her, that whatever her brother's affection might maintain, this loneliness was a foretaste of her future life. And then the bitter sigh and yearning void, as the thought flew back to visions all too brightly wrought, now for ever flown.
Her faithful servant, who marked her dear young lady's spirits sink lower and lower every day, sighed too over her disappointed expectations, for she thought ”it would have been better for Miss Mary to have married Mr. Trevor--even if he were somewhat of a wild gentleman, as they said he was: she is so like an angel that she could tame a lion. So good and tender a heart as hers, was never made to live alone with no one to love her, and to love--and my heart misgives me,”
added the affectionate servant. ”She will never get over the affair. And Mr. Arthur too, he is getting too great a man to have much time to give to her--and there's his heart too, quite gone they say after Miss Elliott, who is as much taken with him I fancy; and after all he is but a brother, and the best of them are not so sure and comfortable like as a husband. But after all,” the good woman continued to soliloquize, ”a bad character will not certainly do for my young lady, and there's something wrong in the Trevors they say. Who would have thought it, and my Miss Mary loving Mr. Eugene as she did; but she is so good and innocent-hearted herself! At any rate, she must not stay moping here much longer. I can see she's getting quite low and nervous.”
These were good Mrs. Hughes' thoughts and reflections on the subject, and it was no inconsiderable satisfaction to her mind, when Mary came to her one morning with a letter in her hand, informing her, that she had received an invitation from Silverton, which she intended to accept, and begged her to prepare without delay for the journey; after which Mary sat down and wrote to Mrs. de Burgh, and also the following announcement to her brother:
”Dearest Arthur,
”You will be surprised--perhaps not well pleased--to hear that I am going to set off to-morrow for Silverton. I have had a pressing letter from Olivia de Burgh; and there are many things that I must have explained by Louis and herself, before I feel that I can with a mind contented and at ease settle down (I do not speak ironically, but with the calm a.s.surance that there will be much of blessedness in store for me) in that estate--a life of single blessedness--which now lies before me.
”Do not then suspect me of weak and wavering motives in the step I am going to take. Believe me when I say, that it is not my intention even to see Eugene. Olivia has promised that I should not meet him unless I desire it; and what could our meeting cause, but pain and discomfort to us both? No, I can no longer fight against the conviction which time and my more experienced perception has forced upon me, that Eugene Trevor is not what my blind affection so long firmly believed him.
”G.o.d knows my love was not of an evanescent nature; and irresistible indeed must be the causes which have so undermined it.
But still my heart shrinks from doing an act of injustice, by condemning him more than he deserves; and there is one horrible suspicion with which my mind has been distracted, my heart can never rest till it has been more clearly enlightened.
”Oh, Arthur! it is a dark and terrible story, I cannot enter upon it now. Suffice it that, if true, it must cast a shadow on my latest hour of existence. If you knew how it has--how it still preys upon my imagination, even till I sometimes fear the bewildering influence it may produce upon my senses, you would not now blame the impulse which leads me to prefer even the risk of obtaining this fearful certainty--rather than continue groping in darkness--for to such I may compare the condition under which I have for some time laboured. But Olivia has promised that my mind shall be relieved, and Louis, I know, will tell me the truth. May G.o.d give me strength and fort.i.tude to bear it.
”I shall not wish to remain at Silverton longer than is absolutely necessary; if therefore your business will permit you to join me there, I can travel with you back into Wales where the Morgans will by that time have returned, and I can stay with them as they wish, till our plans and prospects, dear Arthur, are more finally arranged.”
CHAPTER XVII.
Thou, my once loved, valued friend!
By Heavens thou liest; the man so called my friend Was generous, honest, faithful, just, and valiant: n.o.ble in mind, and in his person lovely; Dear to my eyes, and tender to my heart; But thou, a wretched, base, false, worthless coward.
All eyes must shun thee, and all hearts detest thee, Pr'thee avoid, no longer cling thou round me, Like something baneful, that my nature's chilled at.
VENICE PRESERVED.
It was as may be supposed, a trying ordeal for poor Mary, her arrival at Silverton. The circ.u.mstances attendant on her last arrival, then hopeful, trustful, happy; for what appeared the light fears and imaginary evils which then oppressed her, contrasted with her feelings and circ.u.mstances now? The thousand recollections the sight of the place recalled, everything, caused her heart to sink and sicken within her.
With trembling limbs she alighted from the carriage, and in answer to her inquiries for Mrs. de Burgh, was ushered by the servant into the drawing-room.
A gentleman stood leaning his elbow against the marble mantle-piece. The door closed upon her, and she found herself alone with Eugene Trevor.
Surprise, distress, displeasure, were alternately displayed on Mary's countenance; and withdrawing the hand which, having hurried forward to meet her, he had seized pa.s.sionately in his own, she faltered forth in accents choked by indignant emotion:
”I did not expect this; Olivia promised--or I should never have come.”
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