Part 24 (1/2)
For heaven's sake, Madam, he answer'd, don't drive me to despair:--tear not open the wound which the hand of Mercy has just clos'd:--my shatter'd frame will not bear another rub from fortune.--_What scruples?_--Tell me, Miss Powis, I conjure you.
You have none, my dear child, said Mrs. Powis. You have none, f.a.n.n.y, said Mr. Powis, but what his Lords.h.i.+p can remove.
Indeed, Sir!--indeed, Madam! replied she, I meant not to give Lord Darcey pain.--Then turning to him in a tender, soothing accent,--Your peace, my Lord, has never been lightly regarded by me.--Here he brighten'd up,--and said, taking her hand, You know not, Miss Powis, from the first moment I saw you, how ardent,--how steady has been my love.
Why _then_ my Lord, resum'd she--_why_ endeavour to gain my affections, yet hide your preference for me from the _world_;--even from _myself?_--Think of the _day_ Lord Allen dined at the Abbey;--think what pa.s.s'd in a walk preceding _that_ you set out for town:--on both these,--on many others, how mysterious your conduct?--If you thought me worthy your regard, my Lord, why _such_ mysteries?
For G.o.d's sake, my dear,--dear Miss Powis, said Darcey, suffer me to vindicate myself.--Pardon me, my Lord (continued the angel that harangued him) hear me patiently another moment, and I will listen to your vindication.
She went on.
From whence can I suppose, my Lord, your embarra.s.sments proceeded, if not from _some_ entanglement grown irksome?--No; before I can promise _myself_ happiness, I must be first satisfied I do not borrow that _happiness_ from _another_.
_Another_, Madam! repeated he, throwing himself at her feet:--May all my brighter prospects fly me;--may my youth be blighted by the loss of reason if I have ever lov'd _another!_
She was affected with the solemnity of his air: one pearly drop stray'd down her cheek;--one that escap'd the liquid body of tenderness a.s.sembled in her eyes:--she could not speak, but held out her snowy hand for him to be seated.
He obey'd; and placing himself next her, so clearly accounted for that part of his conduct she call'd mysterious, that Mr. and Mrs. Powis both at once exclaim'd, Now, my dear, complete our felicity;--now all your _scruples must_ be over.
And do you, said she, my tender, my indulgent parents, rising and throwing herself into their arms;--do you say it is in _my_ power to complete your felicity?--_Will_ confessing a preference for Lord Darcey;--_will_ declaring I wish you to prefer him to your daughter;--will _that_ complete it?
My friend caught the blus.h.i.+ng beauty from the arms of her parents, and, frantic with joy, folded her to his bosom, standing as if he wonder'd at his own happiness.
What innocence in the look of Miss Powis, when she greatly acknowledg'd her heart!--How reverse from _this_ innocence, _this_ greatness, is the _prudish hypocrite_, who forbids _even_ her features to say she is susceptible of love! You may suppose a profusion of friendly acknowledgments fell to _my_ share; but I am not vain enough to repeat them.
It is well Lady Elizabeth stands portress at the door of my heart:--there is such bustling and pus.h.i.+ng to get in;--but, notwithstanding her Ladys.h.i.+p's vigilance, Miss Powis has slipp'd by, and sits perch'd up in the same corner with Darcey.
If you go back to Lady Mary's dressing-room, you will find n.o.body _there_:--but give a peep into the dining-parlour, and you will see us just set down at dinner;--_all_ smiling,--_all_ happy;--an inexhaustible fountain of pleasure in every breast.
I will go down to Slope Hall;--give Lady Dorothy a hint that she has it now in her power to make one man happy;--_a hint_ I believe she never had before.--A snug twenty thousand added to my present fortune,--the hand of Lady Elizabeth,--and then, Risby, get hold of my skirts, and you mount with me.
Next Tuesday prepare, as governor of the castle, for a warm siege.--_Such_ a battery of eyes,--_such_ bundles of darts,--_such_ stores of smiles,--_such_ a train of innocence will be laid before the walls, as never was withstood!--No; I shall see you _cap-a-pee_ open the gates to the besiegers.--Away goes my pen.--I write no more positively.
MOLESWORTH.
LETTER XLIII.
Miss DELVES to Mrs. DELVES.
_Barford Abbey_.
Are you well, Madam? Is my dear father well? Tell me you are, and never was so happy a creature as your daughter. I tremble with pleasure,--with joy,--with delight:--but I _must_--my duty, my affection, every thing says I _must_ sit down to write.--You did not see how we were marshall'd at setting out:--I wish you could have got up early enough:--never was there such joyous party!
All in Lady Mary's dining-room by seven;--the fine equipages at the door;--servants attending in rich new liveries, to the number of twenty;--Lord Darcey and his heavenly bride that is to be,--smiling on each other,--smiling on all around;--Lady Mary Sutton--yes, _she_ is heavenly _too_;--I believe I was the only earthly creature amongst them;--Lord and Lady Hampstead,--the angelic Ladies Elizabeth and Sophia,--Mr. Molesworth,--the generous, friendly, open-hearted Mr.
Molesworth,--Lord Hallum.--But why mention him last?--Because, Bessy, I suppose he was _last_ in your thoughts.--Dear Madam, how can you think so?
In Lady Mary's coach went her Ladys.h.i.+p, Lord Darcey, Mrs. and Miss Powis:--in Lord Hampstead's, his Lords.h.i.+p, Lady Hampstead, Lady Elizabeth, and Mr. Molesworth:--in Lord Darcey's, Lady Sophia, Mr.
Powis, Lord Hallum, and your little _good-for-nothing_:--in Mr. Powis's, the women-servants.--We lay fifty miles short of the Abbey, and the next evening reach'd it at seven.