Part 42 (2/2)
A pause ensued, during which I arrived at two conclusions--first, that my kindness was not altogether so disinterested as she imagined; and secondly, that if I sat where I was much longer, and she continued to talk about there being n.o.body who cared for her, I should inevitably feel myself called upon to undeceive her, and, as a necessary consequence, implore her to accept my heart and share my patrimony--the latter, deducting my sister's allowance and my mother's jointure, amounting to the imposing sum of 90 14s. 6d. per annum, which, although sufficient to furnish a bachelor with bread and cheese and broad-cloth, was not exactly calculated to afford an income for ”persons about to marry”. Accordingly, putting a strong force upon my inclinations, and by a desperate effort s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g my virtue to the sticking point, I made a pretty speech, clenching, and thanking her for her promise of applying to me to help her out of the first hopelessly inextricable dilemma in which she might find herself involved, and rose with the full intention of leaving the room.
CHAPTER x.x.xVI -- THE RIDDLE SOLVED
”Think'st thou there's virtue in constrained vows, Half utter'd, soulless, falter'd forth in fear?
And if there is, then truth and grace are nought.”
_Sheridan Knowles_.
”For The contract you pretend with that base wretch, It is no contract--none.”
_Shakspeare_.
”Who hath not felt that breath in the air, A perfume and freshness strange and rare, A warmth in the light, and a bliss everywhere, When young hearts yearn together?
All sweets below, and all sunny above, Oh! there's nothing in life like making Love, Save making hay in fine weather!
_Hood_.
UPON what trifles do the most important events of our lives turn! Had I quitted the room according to my intention, I should not have had an opportunity of seeing Miss Saville alone again (as she returned to Barstone -281-- that afternoon), in which case she would probably have forgotten, or felt afraid to avail herself of my promised a.s.sistance, all communication between us would have ceased, and the deep interest I felt in her, having nothing wherewith to sustain itself, would, as years pa.s.sed by, have died a natural death.
Good resolutions are, however, proverbially fragile, and, in nine cases out of ten, appear made, like children's toys, only to be broken.
Certain it is, that in the present instance mine were rendered of none avail, and, for any good effect that they produced, might as well never have been formed.
As I got up to leave the room Miss Saville rose likewise, and in doing so accidentally dropped a, or rather the, letter, which I picked up, and was about to return to her, when suddenly my eye fell upon the direction, and I started as I recognised the writing--a second glance served to convince me that I had not been mistaken, for the hand was a very peculiar one; and, turning to my astonished companion, I exclaimed, ”Clara, as you would avoid a life of misery, tell me by what right this man dares to address you!”
[Ill.u.s.tration: page281 The Discovery]
”What! do you know him, then?” she inquired anxiously.
”If he be the man I mean,” was my answer, ”I know him but too well, and he is the only human being I both dislike and despise. Was not that letter written by Richard c.u.mberland?”
”Yes, that is his hateful name,” she replied, shuddering while she spoke, as at the aspect of some loathsome thing; then, suddenly changing her tone to one of the most pa.s.sionate entreaty, she clasped her hands, and advancing a step towards me, exclaimed:--
”Oh! Mr. Fairlegh, only save me from _him_, and I will bless you, will pray for you!” and completely overcome by her emotion, she sank backwards, and would have fallen had not I prevented it.
There is a peculiar state of feeling which a man sometimes experiences when he has bravely resisted some hydra-headed temptation to do anything ”pleasant but wrong,” yet which circ.u.mstances appear determined to force upon him: he struggles against it boldly at first; but, as each victory serves only to lessen his own strength, while that of the enemy continues unimpaired, he begins to tell himself that it is useless to contend longer--that the monster is too strong for him, and he yields at last, from a mixed feeling of fatalism and irritation--a sort of -282-- ”have-it-your-own-way-then” frame of mind, which seeks to relieve itself from all responsibility by throwing the burden on things in general--the weakness of human nature--the force of circ.u.mstances--or any other indefinite and conventional scapegoat, which may serve his purpose of self-exculpation.
In much such a condition did I now find myself; I felt that I was regularly conquered--completely taken by storm--and that nothing was left for me but to yield to my destiny with the best grace I could. I therefore seated myself by Miss Saville on the sofa, and whispered, ”You must promise me one thing more, Clara, dearest--say that you will love me--give me but that right to watch over you--to protect you, and believe me neither c.u.mberland, nor any other villain, shall dare for the future to molest you”.
As she made no answer, but remained with her eyes fixed on the ground, while the tears stole slowly down her cheeks, I continued--”You own that you are unhappy--that you have none to love you--none on whom you can rely;--do not then reject the tender, the devoted affection of one who would live but to protect you from the slightest breath of sorrow--would gladly die, if, by so doing, he could secure your happiness”.
”Oh! hush, hus.h.!.+” she replied, starting, as if for the first time aware of the tenor of my words; ”you know not what you ask; or even you, kind, n.o.ble, generous as you are, would not seek to link your fate with one so utterly wretched, so marked out for misfortune as myself. Stay,”
she continued, seeing that I was about to speak, ”hear me out. Richard c.u.mberland, the man whom you despise, and whom I hate only less than I fear, that man have I promised to marry, and, ere this, he is on his road hither to claim the fulfilment of the engagement.”
”Promised to marry c.u.mberland!” repeated I mechanically, ”a low, dissipated swindler--a common cheat, for I can call him nothing better; oh, it's impossible!--why, Mr. Vernor, your guardian, would never permit it.”
”My _guardian_!” she replied, in a tone of the most cutting irony: ”were it not for him this engagement would never have been formed; were it not for him I should even now hope to find some means of prevailing upon this man to relinquish it, and set me free. Richard c.u.mberland is Mr.
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