Part 14 (2/2)

It was near two when we reach'd the Abbey. Sir James and Mr. Morgan were just return'd from a ride;--Lady Powis met us on the Green, where she said she had been walking some time, in expectation of her strollers,--She examin'd my countenance very attentively, and then ask'd Lord Darcey, if he had remember'd her injunctions?

What reason, my Lady, have you to suspect the contrary? he returned--Well, well, said she, I shall find you out some day or other;--but her Ladys.h.i.+p seem'd quite satisfied, when I a.s.sured her I had been no farther than the Beach-walk.

Cards were propos'd soon after dinner: the same party as usual.--Mr.

Morgan is never ask'd to make one;--he says he would as soon see the devil as a card-table.--We kept close at it 'till supper.--I could not help observing his Lords.h.i.+p blunder'd a little;--playing a diamond for a spade,--and a heart for a club,--I took my leave at eleven, and he attended me home.

Mr. and Mrs. Jenkings were gone to bed,--Edmund was reading in the parlour; he insisted on our having a negus which going out to order, was follow'd by Lord Darcey:--I heard them whisper in the pa.s.sage, but could distinguish the words, _if she is ill, remember, if she is ill_--and then Edmund answer'd, You may depend on it, my Lord,--as I have a soul to be saved:--does your Lords.h.i.+p suppose I would be so negligent?

I guess'd at this charge;--it was to write, if I should be ill, as I have since found by Edmund,--who return'd capering into the room, rubbing his hands, and smiling with such significance as if he would have said, Every thing is as it should be.

When his Lords.h.i.+p had wish'd us a good night, he said to me,--_To-morrow_, Miss Warley!--but I will say nothing of _to-morrow_;--I shall see you in the morning. His eyes glisten'd, and he left the room hastily.--Whilst Edmund attended him out, I went to my chamber that I might avoid a subject of which I saw his honest heart was full.

On my table lay the Roman History; I could not help giving a peep where I had left off, being a very interesting part:--from one thing I was led to another, 'till the clock struck three; which alarm made me quit my book.

Whilst undressing, I had leisure to recollect the incidents of the pa.s.s'd day; sometimes pleasure, sometimes pain, would arise, from this examination; yet the latter was most predominant.

When I consider'd Lord Darcey's tender regard for my future, as well as present peace,--how could I reflect on him without grat.i.tude?--When I consider'd his perplexities, I thought thus:--they arise from some entanglement, in which his heart is not engag'd.--Had he confided in me, I should not have weaken'd his resolutions;--I would no more wish him to be guilty of a breach of honour, than surrender myself to infamy.--I would have endeavour'd to persuade him _she_ is amiable, virtuous, and engaging.--If I had been successful, I would have _frown'd_ when he _smil'd_;--I would have been _gay_ when he seem'd _oppress'd_--I would have been _reserv'd, peevish, supercilicus_;--in short, I would have counterfeited the very reverse of what was likely to draw him from a former attachment.

To live without him must be my fate; since that is almost inevitable, I would have strove to have secur'd his happiness, whilst mine had remain'd to chance.--These reflections kept me awake 'till six; when I fell into a profound sleep, which lasted 'till ten; at which time I was awaken'd by Mrs. Jenkings to tell me Lord Darcey was below; with an apology, that she had made breakfast, as her husband was preparing, in great haste, to attend his Lords.h.i.+p.

This was a hint he was not to stay long; so I put on my cloaths with expedition; and going down, took with me my whole stock of resolution; but I carried it no farther than the bottom of the stairs;--there it flew from me;--never have I seen it since:--that it rested not in the breast of Lord Darcey, was visible;--rather it seem'd as if his and mine had taken a flight together.

I stood with the lock of the door in my hand more than a minute, in hopes my inward flutterings would abate.--His Lords.h.i.+p heard my footstep, and flew to open it;--I gave him my hand, without knowing what I did;--joy sparkled in his eyes and he prest it to his breast with a fervour that cover'd me with confusion.

He saw what he had done,--He dropp'd it respectfully, and inquiring tenderly for my health, ask'd if I would honour him with my commands before he sat out for Town?--What a fool was I!--Lord bless me!--can I ever forget my folly? What do you think, my Lady! I did not speak;--no!

I could not answer;--I was _silent_;--I was _silent_, when I would have given the world for one word.--When I did speak, it was not to Lord Darcey, but, still all fool, turn'd and said to Mr. Jenkings, who was looking over a parchment, How do you find yourself, Sir? Will not the journey you are going to take on horseback be too fatiguing? No, no, my good Lady; it is an exercise I have all my life been us'd to: to-morrow you will see me return the better for it.

Mrs. Jenkings here enter'd, follow'd by a servant with the breakfast, which was plac'd before me, every one else having breakfasted.--She desir'd I would give myself the trouble of making tea, having some little matters to do without.--This task would have been a harder penance than a fast of three days;--but I must have submitted, had not my good genius Edmund appear'd at this moment; and placing himself by me, desir'd to have the honour of making my breakfast.

I carried the cup with difficulty to my mouth. My embarra.s.sment was perceiv'd by his Lords.h.i.+p; he rose from his seat, and walk'd up and down.--How did his manly form struggle to conceal the disorder of his mind!--Every movement, every look, every word, discover'd Honour in her most graceful, most ornamental garb: _when_ could it appear to such advantage, surrounded with a cloud of difficulties, yet s.h.i.+ning out and towering above them all?

He laid his cold hand on mine;--with precipitation left the room;--and was in a moment again at my elbow.--Leaning over the back of my chair, he whisper'd, For heaven's sake, miss Warley, be the instrument of my fort.i.tude; whilst I see you I cannot--there stopt and turn'd from me.--I saw he wish'd me to go first,--as much in compa.s.sion to myself as him.

When his back was turn'd, I should have slid out of the room;--but Mr.

Jenkings starting up, and looking at his watch, exclaim'd, _Odso_, my Lord! it is past eleven; we shall be in the dark. This call'd him from his reverie; and he sprang to the door, just as I had reached it.--Sweet, generous creature! said he, stopping me; and you will go _then?_--Farewell, my Lord, replied I.--My dear, good friend, to Mr.

Jenkings, take care of your health.--G.o.d bless you both I--My voice faulter'd.

Excellent Miss Warley! a thousand thanks for your kind condescension, said the good old man.--Yet one moment, oh G.o.d! yet one moment, said his Lords.h.i.+p; and he caught both my hands.

Come, my Lord, return'd Mr. Jenkings; and never did I see him look so grave, something of disappointment in his countenance;--come, my Lord, the day is wasting apace. Excuse this liberty:--your Lords.h.i.+p has been _long_ determin'd,--have _long_ known of leaving this country.--My dearest young Lady, you will be expected at the Abbey.--I shall, indeed, replied I;--so G.o.d bless you, Sir!--G.o.d bless you, my Lord! and, withdrawing my hands, hasten'd immediately to my chamber.

I heard their voices in the court-yard:--if I had look'd out at the window, it might not have been unnatural,--I own my inclinations led to it.--Inclination should never take place of prudence;--by following one, we are often plung'd into difficulties;--by the other we are sure to be conducted safely:--instead, then, of indulging my curiosity to see how he look'd--how he spoke at taking leave of this dwelling;--whether his eyes were directed to the windows, or the road;--if he rid slow or fast;--how often he turn'd to gaze, before he was out of sight:--instead of this, I went to Mrs. Jenkings's apartment, and remain'd there 'till I heard they were gone, then return'd to my own; since which I have wrote down to this period. Perhaps I should have ran on farther, if a summons from Lady Powis did not call me off. I hope now to appear before her with tolerable composure.--I am to go in the coach alone.--Well, it will seem strange!--I shall think of my _late_ companion;--but time reconciles every thing.--_This_ was my hope, when I lost my best friend, the lov'd instructress of my infant years.--_Time_, all healing _Time!_ to _that_ I fear I must look forward, as a lenitive against many evils.

Two days!--only two days!--and then, adieu, my dear friends at the Abbey;--adieu, my good Mr. and Mrs. Jenkings!--and you _too_, my friendly-hearted Edmund, adieu!

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