The Wanderer; or, Female Difficulties (Volume 1 of 5)

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by Fanny Burney


  CHAPTER XV

  Ellis, who soon heard the carriage drive off for Lewes, waited interrour to learn the result of this scene; almost equally fearful oflosing the supporting kindness of Lady Aurora through timidacquiescence, as of preserving it through efforts to which her temperand gentle habits were repugnant.

  In about half an hour, Mrs Howel's maid came to enquire whether MissEllis would have any thing brought up stairs for supper; Mrs Howelhaving broken up the usual evening party, in order to induce LadyAurora, who was extremely fatigued, to go to rest.

  Not to rest went Ellis, after such a message, though to that bed whichhad brought to her, of late, the repose of peace and contentment, andthe alertness of hope and pleasure. A thousand schemes crossed herimagination, for averting the desertion which she saw preparing, andwhich her augmenting attachment to Lady Aurora, made her consider as amisfortune that would rob her of every consolation. But no plan occurredthat satisfied her feeling without wounding her dignity: the firstprompted a call upon the tender heart of Lady Aurora, by unlimitedconfidence; the second, a manifestation how ill she thought she meritedthe change of treatment that she experienced, by resentfully quittingthe house: but this was no season for the smallest voluntary hazard. Allchance of security hung upon the exertion of good sense, and the rightuse of reason, which imperiously demanded active courage with patientforbearance.

  She remitted, therefore, forming any resolution, till she should learnthat of Mrs Howel.

  It was now the first week of February, and, before the break of day, ageneral movement in the house gave her cause to believe that the familywas risen. She hastened to dress herself, unable to conjecture what shehad to expect. The commotion continued; above and below the servantsseemed employed, and in haste; and, in a little time, some accidentalsounds reached her ears, from which she gathered that an immediatejourney to London was preparing.

  What could this mean? Was she thought so intruding, that by change ofabode alone they could shake her off? or so dangerous, that flight,only, could preserve Lady Aurora from her snares? And was it thus, shewas to be apprized that she must quit the house? Without a carriage,without money, and without a guide, was she to be turned over to theservants? and by them turned, perhaps, from the door?

  Indignation now helped to sustain her; but it was succeeded by theextremest agitation, when she saw, from her window, Lord Melburymounting his horse, upon which he presently rode off.

  And is it thus, she cried, that all I thought so ingenuous in goodness,so open in benevolence, so sincere in partiality, subsides into neglect,perhaps forgetfulness?--And you, Lady Aurora, will you, also, give me upas lightly?

  She wept. Indignation was gone: sorrow only remained; and she listenedin sadness for every sound that might proclaim the departure which shedreaded.

  At length, she heard a footstep advance slowly to her chamber, succeededby a tapping at her door.

  Her heart beat with hope. Was it Lady Aurora? had she still so muchkindness, so much zeal?--She flew to meet her own idea--but saw only thelady of the house.

  She sighed, cruelly disappointed; but the haughty distance of MrsHowel's air restored her courage; for courage, where there is anynobleness of mind, always rises highest, when oppressive pride seeks tocrush it by studied humiliation.

  Mrs Howel fixed her eyes upon the face of Ellis, with an expression thatsaid, Can you bear to encounter me after this discovery? Then, formallyannouncing that she had something important to communicate, she added,'You will be so good as to shut the door,' and seated herself on anarm-chair, by the fire side; without taking any sort of notice that herguest was still standing.

  Ellis could far better brook behaviour such as this from Mrs Maple, fromwhom she had never experienced any of a superiour sort; but by Mrs Howelshe had been invited upon equal terms, and, hitherto, had been treatednot only with equality but distinction: hard, therefore, she found it toendure such a change; yet her resentment was soon governed by hercandour, when it brought to her mind the accusation of appearances.

  Mrs Howel then began an harangue palpably studied: 'You cannot, I think,young woman--for you must excuse my not addressing you by a name I nowknow you to have assumed;--you cannot, I think, be surprised to findthat your stay in this house is at an end. To avoid, however, giving anypublicity to your disgrace, at the desire of Mrs Maple, who thinks thatits promulgation, in a town such as this, might expose her, as well asyourself, to impertinent lampoons, I shall take no notice of what haspassed to any of my people; except to my housekeeper, to whom it isnecessary I should make over some authority, which you will not, Iimagine, dispute. For myself, I am going to town immediately with LadyAurora. I have given out that it is upon sudden business, with properdirections that my domestics may treat you with civility. You will stillbreakfast, therefore, in the parlour; and, at your own time, you willask for a chaise, which I have bespoken to carry you back to Lewes. Toprevent any suspicion in the neighbourhood, I shall leave commands thata man and horse may attend you, in the same manner as when you camehither. No remark, therefore, will follow your not having my owncarriage again, as I make use of it myself. Lord Melbury is set offalready. We shall none of us return till I hear, from Mrs Maple, thatyou have left this part of the country; for, as I can neither receiveyou, nor notice you where I might happen to meet with you, such adifference of conduct, after this long visit, might exciteanimadversion. The sooner, therefore, you change your quarters, thebetter; for I coincide in the opinion of Mrs Maple, that it is wisest,for all our sakes, that this transaction should not be spread in theworld. And now, young woman, all I ask of you in return for theconsideration I shew you, is this; that you will solemnly engage to holdno species of intercourse with Lady Aurora Granville, or with LordMelbury, either by speech, or writing, or message. If you observe this,I shall do you no hurt; if not,--expect every punishment my resentmentcan inflict, and that of the noble family, involved in the indignitywhich you have made me suffer, by a surreptitious entrance into my houseas a young lady of fashion.'

  No sort of answer was offered by Ellis. She stood motionless, her eyesfixed, and her air seeming to announce her almost incredulous of whatshe heard.

  'Do you give me,' said Mrs Howel, 'this promise? Will you bind yourselfto it in writing?'

  Ellis still was silent, and looked incapable of speaking.

  'Young woman,' said Mrs Howel, with increased austerity, 'I am not to betrifled with. Will you bind yourself to this agreement, or will younot?'

  'What agreement, Madam?' she now faintly asked.

  'Not to seek, and even to refuse, any sort of intercourse with LadyAurora Granville, or with her brother, either by word of mouth, orletter, or messenger? Will you, I say, bind yourself, upon your oath, tothis?'

  'No, Madam!' answered Ellis, with returning recollection and courage;'no peril can be so tremendous as such a sacrifice!'

  Mrs Howel, rising, said, 'Enough! abide by the consequence.'

  She was leaving the room; but Ellis, affrighted, exclaimed, 'Ah, Madam,before you adopt any violent measures against me, deign to reflect thatI may be innocent, and not merit them!'

  'Innocent?' repeated Mrs Howel, with an air of inexorable ire; 'withouta name, without a home, without a friend?--Innocent? presenting yourselfunder false appearances to one family, and under false pretences toanother? No, I am not such a dupe. And if your bold resistance make itnecessary, for the safety of my young friends, that I should lodge aninformation against you, you will find, that people who enter houses bynames not their own, and who have no ostensible means of existence; willbe considered only as swindlers; and as swindlers be disposed of as theydeserve.'

  Ellis, turning pale, sunk upon a chair.

  Mrs Howel, stopping, with a voice as hard as her look was implacable,added; 'This is your last moment for repentance. Will you give yourpromise, upon oath?'

  'No, Madam! again no!' cried Ellis, starting up with sudden energy:'What I have suffered shall teach me to suffer more, and what I haveescaped
, shall give me hope for my support! But never will I plightmyself, by willing promise, to avoid those whose virtuous goodness andcompassion offer me the only consolation, that, in my desolate state, Ican receive!'

  ''Tis well!' said Mrs Howel, 'You have yourself, then, only, to thankfor what ensues.'

  She now steadily went on, opened the door, and left the room, thoughEllis, mournfully following her, called out: Ah, Madam!--ah, MrsHowel!--if ever you know more of me--which, at least, is notimpossible,--you will look back to this period with no pleasure!--orwith pleasure only to that part of it, in which you received me at yourhouse with politeness, hospitality, and kindness!'

  Mrs Howel was not of a nature to relent in what she felt, or to retractfrom what she said: the distress, therefore, of Ellis, produced not thesmallest effect upon her; and, with her head stiffly erect, and hercountenance as unmoved as her heart, she descended the stairs, andissued, aloud, her commands that the horses should immediately be put tothe chaise.

  Ellis shut herself in her room, almost overpowered by the shock of thisattack, so utterly unexpected, from a lady in whose character theleading feature seemed politeness, and who always appeared to hold thatquality to be pre-eminent to all others. But the experience of Ellis hadnot yet taught her, how distinct is the politeness of manner, formed bythe habits of high life, to that which springs spontaneously frombenevolence of mind. The first, the product of studied combinations, islaid aside, like whatever is factitious, where there is no object foracting a part: the second, the child of sympathy, instructs us how totreat others, by suggesting the treatment we desire for ourselves; andthis, as its feelings are personal, though its exertions are external,demands no effort, waits no call, and is never failingly at hand.

  The gloomy sadness of Ellis was soon interrupted, by enquiries thatreached her from the hall, whether the trunks of Lady Aurora were ready.Is she so nearly gone? Ellis cried; Ah! when may I see her again?--Tothe hall, to wait in the hall, she longed to go herself, to catch a lastview, and to snatch, if possible, a kind parting word; but thetremendous Mrs Howel!--she shrunk from the idea of ever seeing heragain.

  Soon afterwards, she heard the carriages drive up to the house. She nowwent to the window, to behold, at least, the loved form of Lady Auroraas she mounted the chaise. Perhaps, too, she might turn round, and lookup. Fixt here, she was inattentive to the opening of her own room-door,concluding that the house-maid came to arrange her fire, till a softvoice gently articulated: 'Miss Ellis!' She hastily looked round: it wasLady Aurora; who had entered, who had shut herself in, and who, whileone hand covered her eyes, held out the other, in an attitude of themost inviting affection.

  Ellis flew to seize it, with joy inexpressible, indescribable, and wouldhave pressed it to her lips; but Lady Aurora, flinging both her armsround the neck of her new friend, fell upon her bosom, and wept,saying, 'You are not, then, angry, though I, too, must have seemed tobehave to you so cruelly?'

  'Angry?' repeated Ellis, sobbing from the suddenness of a delight whichbroke into a sorrow nearly hopeless; 'O Lady Aurora! if you could knowhow I prize your regard! your goodness!--what a balm it is to every evilI now experience, your gentle and generous heart would be recompensedfor all the concern I occasion it, by the pleasure of doing so muchgood!'

  'You can still, then, love me, my Miss Ellis?'

  'Ah, Lady Aurora! if I dared say how much!--but, alas, in my helplesssituation, the horror of being suspected of flattery--'

  'What you will not say, then,' cried Lady Aurora, smiling, 'will youprove?'

  'Will I?--Alas, that I could!'

  'Will you let me take a liberty with you, and promise not to beoffended?'

  She put a letter into her hand, which Ellis fondly kissed, and lodgednear her heart.

  The words 'Where is Lady Aurora?' now sounded from the staircase.

  'I must stay,' she said, 'no longer! Adieu, dear Miss Ellis! Think of mesometimes--for I shall think of you unceasingly!'

  'Ah, Lady Aurora!' cried Ellis, clinging to her, 'shall I see you, then,no more? And is this a last leave-taking?'

  'O, far from it, far, far, I hope!' said Lady Aurora: 'if I thought thatwe should meet no more, it would be impossible for me to tell you howunhappy this moment would make me!'

  'Where is Lady Aurora?' would again have hurried her away; but Ellis,still holding by her, cried, 'One moment! one moment!--I have not, then,lost your good opinion? Oh! if that wavers, my firmness wavers too! andI must unfold--at all risks--my unhappy situation!'

  'Not for the world! not for the world!' cried Lady Aurora, earnestly: 'Icould not bear to seem to have any doubt to remove, when I have none,none, of your perfect innocence, goodness, excellence!'

  Overpowered with grateful joy, 'Angelic Lady Aurora!' was all that Elliscould utter, while tears rolled fast down her cheeks; and she tenderly,yet fervently, kissed the hand of the resisting Lady Aurora, who,extremely affected, leant upon her bosom, till she was startled by againhearing her name from without. 'Go, then, amiable Lady Aurora!' Elliscried; 'I will no longer detain you! Go!--happy in the happiness thatyour sweetness, your humanity, your kindness bestow! I will dwellcontinually, upon their recollection; I will say to myself, Lady Aurorabelieves me innocent, though she sees me forlorn; she will not think meunworthy, though she knows me to be unprotected; she will not concludeme to be an adventurer, though I dare not tell her even my name!'

  'Do not talk thus, my dear, dear Miss Ellis! Oh! if I were my ownmistress--with what delight I should supplicate you to live with meentirely! to let us share between us all that we possess; to readtogether, study our musick together, and never, never to part!'

  Ellis could hardly breathe: her soul seemed bursting with emotions,which, though the most delicious, were nearly too mighty for her frame.But the melting kindness of Lady Aurora soon soothed her into moretranquil enjoyment; and when, at length, a message from Mrs Howelirresistibly compelled a separation, the warm gratitude of her heart,for the consolation which she had received, enabled her to endure itwith fortitude. But not without grief. All seemed gone when Lady Aurorawas driven from the door; and she remained weeping at the window, whenceshe saw her depart, till she was roused by the entrance of Mrs Greaves,the housekeeper.

  Her familiar intrusion, without tapping at the door, quickly brought tothe recollection of Ellis the authority which had been vested in herhands. This immediately restored her spirit; and as the housekeeper,seating herself, was beginning, very unceremoniously, to explain themotives of her visit, Ellis, without looking at her, calmly said, 'Ishall go down stairs now to breakfast; but if you have time to be sogood as to make up my packages, you will find them in those drawers.'

  She then descended to the parlour, leaving the housekeeper stupifiedwith amazement. But the forms of subordination, when once broken down,are rarely, with common characters, restored. Glad of the removal of abarrier which has kept them at a distance from those above them, theyrevel in the idea that the fall of a superiour is their own properelevation. Following, therefore, Ellis to the breakfast-room, andseating herself upon a sofa, she began to discourse with the freedom ofaddressing a disgraced dependent; saying, 'Mrs Maple will be in a finetaking, Miss, to have you upon her hands, again, so all of the sudden.'

  This speech, notwithstanding its grossness, surprised from Ellis anexclamation, 'Does not Mrs Maple, then, expect me?'

  'How should she, when my lady never settled what she should do aboutyou herself, till after twelve o'clock last night? However, as tosending you back without notice, she had no notion, she says, ofstanding upon any ceremony with Mrs Maple, who made so little of poppingyou upon her and Lady Aurora in that manner.'

  Ellis turned from her with disdain, and would reply to nothing more; buther pertinacious stay still kept the bosom letter unopened.

  Grievously Ellis felt tormented with the prospect of what her receptionmight be from Mrs Maple, after such a blight. The buoyant spirit of herfirst escape, which she had believed no after misfortune could subdue,ha
d now so frequently been repressed, that it was nearly borne down tothe common standard of mortal condition, whence we receive our dailyfare of good and of evil, with the joy or the grief that they separatelyexcite; independently of that wonderful power, believed in by theyouthful and inexperienced, of hoarding up the felicity of our happymoments, as a counterpoise to future sorrows and disappointments. Thepast may re-visit our hearts with renewed sufferings, or our spirits withgay recollections; but the interest of the time present, even uponpoints the most passing and trivial, will ever, from the pressure of ourwants and our feelings, predominate.

  Mrs Greaves, unanswered and affronted, was for some minutes silenced;but, presently, rising and calling out, 'Gemini! something has happenedto my Lady, or to Lady Aurora? Here's My Lord gallopped back!' she ranout of the room.

  Affrighted by this suggestion, Ellis, who then perceived Lord Melburyfrom the window, ran herself, after the housekeeper, to the door, andeagerly exclaimed, as he dismounted, 'O, My Lord, I hope no accident--'

  'None!' cried he, flying to her and taking and kissing both her hands,and drawing, rather than leading, her back to the parlour, 'none!--or ifany there were,--what could be the accident that concern so bewitchingwould not recompense?'

  Ellis felt amazed. Lord Melbury had never addressed her before in anytone of gallantry; had never kissed, never touched her hand; yet now, hewould scarcely suffer her to withdraw it from his ardent grasp.

  'But, My Lord,' said Mrs Greaves, who followed them in, 'pray let me askYour Lordship about my Lady, and My Lady Aurora, and how--'

  'They are perfectly well,' cried he, hastily, 'and gone on. I am riddenback myself merely for something which I forgot.'

  'I was fearful,' said Ellis, anxious to clear up her eager reception,'that something might have happened to Lady Aurora; I am extremely happyto hear that all is safe.'

  'And you will have the charity, I hope, to make me a little breakfast?for I have tasted nothing yet this morning.'

  Again he took both her hands, and led her to the seat which she had justquitted at the table.

  She was extremely embarrassed. She felt reluctant to refuse a request sonatural; yet she was sure that Mrs Howel would conclude that they met byappointment; and she saw in the face of the housekeeper the utmostprovocation at the young Lord's behaviour: yet neither of thesecircumstances gave her equal disturbance, with observing a change,indefinable yet striking, in himself. After an instant's reflection, shedeemed it most advisable not to stay with him; and, saying that she wasin haste to return to Lewes, she begged that Mrs Greaves would order thechaise that Mrs Howel had mentioned.

  'Ay, do, good Greaves!' cried he, hurrying her out, and, in hiseagerness to get her away, shutting the door after her himself.

  Ellis said that she would see whether her trunk were ready.

  'No, no, no! don't think of the trunk,' cried he: 'We have but a fewminutes to talk together, and to settle how we shall meet again.'

  Still more freely than before, he now rather seized than took her hand;and calling her his dear charming Ellis, pressed it to his lips, and tohis breast, with rapturous fondness.

  Ellis, struck, now, with terrour, had not sufficient force to withdrawher hand; but when she said, with great emotion, 'Pray, pray My Lord!--'he let it go.

  It was only for a moment: snatching, it then, again, as she was risingto depart, he suddenly slipt upon one of her fingers a superb diamondring, which he took off from one of his own.

  'It is very beautiful, My Lord;' said she, deeply blushing; yet lookingat it as if she supposed he meant merely to call for her admiration, andreturning it to him immediately.

  'What's this?' cried he: 'Won't you wear such a bauble for my sake? Giveme but a lock of your lovely hair, and I will make myself one to replaceit.'

  He tried to put the ring again on her finger; but, forcibly breakingfrom him, she would have left the room: he intercepted her passage tothe door. She turned round to ring the bell: he placed himself again inher way, with a flushed air of sportiveness, yet of determinedopposition.

  Confounded, speechless, she went to one of the windows, and standingwith her back to it, looked at him with an undisguised amazement, thatshe hoped would lead him to some explanation of his behaviour, thatmight spare her any serious remonstrance upon its unwelcome singularity.

  'Why, what's this?' cried he gaily, yet with a gaiety not perfectlyeasy; 'do you want to run away from me?'

  'No, my lord,' answered she, gravely, yet forcing a smile, which shehoped would prove, at once, a hint, and an inducement to him to end thescene as an idle and ill-judged frolic; 'No; I have only been afraidthat your lordship was running away from yourself!'

  'And why so?' cried he, with quickness, 'Is Harleigh the only man who isever to be honoured with your company tete-a-tete?'

  'What can your lordship mean?'

  'What can the lovely Ellis blush for? And what can Harleigh have tooffer, that should obtain for him thus exclusively all favour? If it beadoration of your charms, who shall adore them more than I will? If itbe in proofs of a more solid nature, who shall vie with me? All Ipossess shall be cast at your feet. I defy him to out-do me, in fortuneor in love.'

  Ellis now turned pale and cold: horrour thrilled through her veins, andalmost made her heart cease to beat. Lord Melbury saw the change, and,hastily drawing towards her a chair, besought her to be seated. She wasunable to refuse, for she had not strength to stand; but, when again hewould have taken her hand, she turned from him, with an air so severe ofsoul-felt repugnance, that, starting with surprise and alarm, he forborethe attempt.

  He stood before her utterly silent, and with a complexion frequentlyvarying, till she recovered; when, again raising her eyes, with anexpression of mingled affliction and reproach, 'And is it, then,' shecried, 'from a brother of the pure, the exemplary Lady Aurora Granville,that I am destined to receive the most heart-rending insult of my life?'

  Lord Melbury seemed thunderstruck, and could not articulate what hetried to say; but, upon again half pronouncing the name of Harleigh,Ellis, standing up, with an air of dignity the most impressive, cried,'My lord, Mr Harleigh rescued me from the most horrible of dangers, inassisting me to leave the Continent; and his good offices havebefriended me upon every occasion since my arrival in England. Thisincludes the whole of our intercourse! No calumny, I hope, will make himashamed of his benevolence; and I have reaped from it such benefit, thatthe most cruel insinuations must not make me repent receiving it; for towhom else, except to Lady Aurora, do I owe gratitude without pain? Heknows me to be indigent, my lord, yet does not conclude me open tocorruption! He sees me friendless and unprotected,--yet offers me noindignity!'

  Lord Melbury now, in his turn, looked pale. 'Is it possible--' he cried,'Is it possible, that--' He stammered, and was in the utmost confusion.

  She passed him, and was quitting the room.

  'Good Heaven!' cried he, 'you will not go?--you will not leave me inthis manner?--not knowing what to think,--what to judge,--what to do?'

  She made no answer but by hastening her footsteps, and wearing an aspectof the greatest severity; but, when her hand touched the lock, 'I swearto you,' he cried, 'Miss Ellis, if you will not stay--I will followyou!'

  Her eyes now shot forth a glance the most indignant, and she resolutelyopened the door.

  He spread out his arms to impede her passage.

  Offended by his violence, and alarmed by this detention, she resentfullysaid, 'If you compel me, my lord, to summon the servants--' when, uponlooking at him again, she saw that his whole face was convulsed by theexcess of his emotion.

  She stopt.

  'You must permit me,' he cried, 'to shut the door; and you must grant metwo minutes audience.'

  She neither consented nor offered any opposition.

  He closed the door, but she kept her place.

  'Tell--speak to me, I beseech you!' he cried, 'Oh clear the crueldoubts--'

  'No more, my lord, no more!' interrupted Ellis, scor
n taking possessionof every feature; 'I will neither give to myself the disgrace, nor toyour lordship the shame, of permitting another word to be said!'

  'What is it you mean?' cried he, planting himself against the door; 'youwould not--surely you would not brand me for a villain?'

  She determined to have recourse to the bell, and, with the averted eyesof disdain, resolutely moved towards the chimney.

  He saw her design, and cast himself upon his knees, calling out, inextreme agitation, 'Miss Ellis! Miss Ellis! you will not assemble theservants to see me groveling upon the earth?'

  Greatly shocked, she desisted from her purpose. His look was aghast, hisframe was in a universal tremour, and his eyes were wild and starting.Her wrath subsided at this sight, but the most conflicting emotions renther heart.

  'I see,' he cried, in a tremulous voice, and almost gnashing his teeth,'I see that you have been defamed, and that I have incurred yourabhorrence!--I have my own, too, completely! You cannot hate me morethan I now hate--than I shrink from myself! And yet--believe me, MissEllis! I have no deliberate hardness of heart!--I have been led on byrash precipitance, and--and want of thought!--Believe me, MissEllis!--believe me, good Miss Ellis!--for I see, now, how good youare!--believe me--'

  He could find no words for what he wished to say. He rose, but attemptednot to approach her. Ellis leant against the wainscoat, still close tothe bell, but without seeking to ring it. Both were silent. His extremeyouth, his visible inexperience, and her suspicious situation; joined tohis quick repentance, and simple, but emphatic declaration, that he hadno hardness of heart, began not only to offer some palliation for hisconduct, but to soften her resentment into pity.

  He no sooner perceived the touching melancholy which insensibly tookplace, in her countenance, of disgust and indignation, than, forciblyaffected, he struck his forehead, exclaiming, 'Oh, my poor Aurora!--whenyou know how ill I have acted, it will almost break your gentle heart!'

  This was an apostrophe to come home quick to the bosom of Ellis: sheburst into tears; and would instantly have held out to him her hand, asan offering of peace and forgiveness, had not her fear of theimpetuosity of his feelings checked the impulse. She only, therefore,said, 'Ah, my lord, how is it that with a sister so pure, so perfect,and whose virtues you so warmly appreciate, you should find it sodifficult to believe that other females may be exempt, at least, fromdepravity? Alas! I had presumed, my lord, to think of you as indeed thebrother of Lady Aurora; and, as such, I had even dared to consider youas a succour to me in distress, and a protector in danger!'

  'Ah! consider me so again!' cried he, with sudden rapture;'good--excellent Miss Ellis! consider me so again, and you shall notrepent your generous pardon!'

  Ellis irresistibly wept, but, by a motion of her hand, forbad hisapproach.

  'Fear, fear me not!' cried he, 'I am a reclaimed man for the rest of mylife! I have hitherto, Miss Ellis, been but a boy, and therefore soeasily led wrong. But I will think and act, now, for myself. I promiseit you sincerely! Never, never more will I be the wretched tool ofdishonourable impertinence! Not that I am so unmanly, as to seek anyextenuation to my guilt, from its being excited by others;--no; itrather adds to its heinousness, that my own passions, violent as theysometimes are, did not give it birth. But your so visible purity, MissEllis, had kept them from any disrespect, believe me! And, struck as Ihave been with your attractions, and charmed with your conversation, ithas always been without a single idea that I could not tell to Auroraherself; for as I thought of you always as of Aurora's favourite,Aurora's companion, Aurora's friend, I thought of you always together.'

  'Oh Lord Melbury!' interrupted Ellis, fresh tears, but of pleasure, notsorrow, gushing into her eyes; 'what words are these! how penetrating tomy very soul! Ah, my lord, let this unhappy morning be blotted from bothour memories! and let me go back to the morning of yesterday! to apartiality that made,--and that makes me so happy! to a goodness, akindness, that revive me with heart-consoling gratitude!'

  'Oh, incomparable--Oh, best Miss Ellis!' cried Lord Melbury, in atransport of joy, and passionately advancing; but retreating nearly atthe same instant, as if fearful of alarming her; and almost fasteninghimself against the opposite wainscoat; 'how excessive is yourgoodness!'

  A sigh from Ellis checked his rapture; and she entreated him to explainwhat he meant by his allusion to 'others.'

  His complexion reddened, and he would have evaded any reply; but Elliswas too urgent to be resisted. Yet it was not without the utmostdifficulty that she could prevail upon him to be explicit. Finally,however, she gathered, that Ireton, after the scene produced by theletter for L.S., had given vent to the most sneering calumnies, chieflypointed at Harleigh, to excite the experiment of which he had himself soshamefully, yet foolishly, been the instrument. He vowed, however, thatIreton should publicly acknowledge his slanders, and beg her pardon.

  Ellis earnestly besought his lordship to let the matter rest. 'Allpublic appeals,' cried she, 'are injurious to female fame. Generouslyinform Mr Ireton, that you are convinced he has wronged me, and thenleave the clearing of his own opinion to time and to truth. When theyare trusted with innocence, Time and Truth never fail to do it justice.'

  Lord Melbury struggled to escape making any promise. His self-discontentcould suggest no alleviation so satisfactory, as that of calling MrIreton to account for defamation; an action which he thought wouldafford the most brilliant amends that could be offered to Miss Ellis,and the best proof that could blazon his own manliness. But when shesolemnly assured him, that his compliance with her solicitation was theonly peace-offering she could accept, for sinking into oblivion thewhole morning's transaction, he forbore any further contestation.

  Mrs Greaves now brought information, that a chaise was at the door, andthat a groom was in readiness. Lord Melbury timidly offered Ellis hishand, which she gracefully accepted; but neither of them spoke as he ledher to the carriage.

 

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