by Fanny Burney
CHAPTER LXVI
Upon quitting the drawing-room, to mount to her chamber, Juliet caught aglance of Ireton, ascending the staircase to the second story.
Apprehensive that he was watching for an opportunity to again tormenther, she turned into a small apartment called the Print Closet, of whichthe door was open; purposing there to wait till he should have passedon.
There, however, she had no sooner entered, than, examining the beautifulengravings of Sir Robert Strange, she perceived Harleigh.
Eagerly and with delight he advanced, and sought, once more, to take herhand. A look of solemnity repressed him; but 'twas a solemnity mixt withsorrow, not anger.
'Generous Mr Harleigh!' she faintly articulated, while endeavouring todisperse the tears that again strove to find their way down her cheeks;'can you then, thus unabatedly preserve your good opinion of an unknownWanderer, ... who seems the sport of insult and misfortune?'
Almost dissolved with tender feelings at this question, Harleigh, gentlyoverpowering her opposition, irresistibly seized her hand, repeating,'My good opinion? my reverence, rather!--my veneration is yours!--and aconfidence in your worth that has no limits!'
Ashamed of the situation into which a sudden impulse of gratitude hadinvoluntarily betrayed her, the varying hues of her now white, nowcrimson cheeks manifested alternate distress and confusion; while shestruggled incessantly to disengage her hand; but the happy heart ofHarleigh felt so delightedly its possession, that she struggled in vain.
'Yet, let not that confidence,' he continued, 'be always the offspringof fascination! Give it, at length, some other food than conjecture!not to remove doubts; I have none! but to solve difficulties that rob meof rest.--'
'I am sorry, Sir, very sorry, if I cause you any uneasiness,' saidJuliet, resuming her usual calmness of manner; yet with bent down eyes,that neither ventured to meet his, nor to cast a glance at the handwhich she still fruitlessly strove to withdraw; 'but indeed you must notdetain me;--no, not a minute!'
Enchanted by the mildness of this remonstrance, little as its injunctionmet his wishes; 'Half a minute, then!' he gaily replied, 'accord me onlyhalf a minute, and I will try to be contented. Suffer me but to ask,--'
'No, Sir, you must ask me nothing! There is no question whatever I cananswer!--'
'I will not make one, then! I will only offer an observation. There is asomething--I know not what; nor can I divine; but something there isstrange, singular,--very unusual, and very striking, between you andLord Melbury! Pardon, pardon my abruptness! You allow me no time to bescrupulous. You promise him your confidence,--that confidence so long,so fervently solicited by another!--so inexorably withheld!--'
'I earnestly desire,' cried Juliet, recovering her look of openness, andraising her eyes; 'the sanction of Lord Melbury to the countenance andkindness of Lady Aurora.'
'Thanks! thanks!' cried Harleigh; who in this short, but expressiveexplanation, flattered himself that some concern was included for hispeace; ''Tis to that, then, that cause,--a cause the most lovely,--heowes this envied pre-eminence?--And yet,--pardon me!--while apparentlyonly a mediator--may not such a charge,--such an intercourse,--sointimate and so interesting a commission,--may it not,--nay, must it notinevitably make him from an agent become a principal?--Will not hisheart pay the tribute--'
'Heaven forbid!' interrupting him, cried Juliet.
'Thanks! thanks, again! You do not, then, wish it? You are generous,noble enough not to wish it? And frank, sweet, ingenuous enough toacknowledge that you do not wish it? Ah! tell me but--'
'Mr Harleigh,' again interrupting him, cried Juliet, 'I know not whatyou are saying!--I fear I have been misunderstood.--You must let me begone!'--
'No!' answered he, passionately; 'I can live no longer, breatheno longer, in this merciless solicitude of uncertainty and obscurity!You must give me some glimmering of light, some opening tocomprehension,--or content yourself to be my captive!--'
'You terrify me, Mr Harleigh! Let me go!--instantly! instantly!--Wouldyou make me hate--' She had begun with a precipitance nearly vehement;but stopt abruptly.
'Hate me?' cried Harleigh, with a look appalled: 'Good Heaven!'
'Hate you?--No,--not you!... I did not say you!--'
'Who, then? who then, should I make you hate?--Lord Melbury?--'
'O no, never!--'tis impossible!--Let me be gone!--let me be gone!--'
'Not till you tell me whom I should make you hate! I cannot part withyou in this new ignorance! Clear, at least, this one little point Whomshould I make hate you?--'
'Myself, Sir, myself!' cried she, trembling and struggling. 'If youpersist in thus punishing my not having fled from you, at once, as Iwould have fled from an enemy!'
He immediately let go her hand; but, finding that, though her look wasinstantly appeased, nay grateful, she was hastily retreating, he glidedbetween her and the door, crying, 'Where,--at least deign to tellme!--Where may I see,--may I speak to you again?'
'Any where, any where!'--replied she, with quickness; but presently,with a sudden check of vivacity, added, 'No where, I mean!--no where,Sir, no where!'--
'Is this possible!' exclaimed he. 'Can you,--even in your wishes,--canyou be so hard of heart?'--
'It is you,' said she reproachfully, 'who are hard of heart, to detainme thus!--Think but where I am!--where you are!--This house--MissJoddrel--What may not be the consequence?--Is it Mr Harleigh who woulddeliver me over to calumny?'
Harleigh now held open the door for her himself, without venturing toreply, as he heard footsteps upon the stairs; but he permitted his lipsto touch her arm, for he could not again seize her hand, as she passedhim, eagerly, and with her face averted. She fled on to the stairs, andrapidly ascended them. Harleigh durst now follow; but he pursued herwith his eyes. He could not, however, catch a glance, could not evenview her profile, so sedulously her head was turned another way.Disappointment and mortification were again seizing him; till heconsidered, that that countenance thus hidden, had she been whollyunfearful of shewing some little emotion, had probably, nay, evenpurposely, been displayed.
Fleetly gaining her room, and dropping upon a chair, 'I must fly!--Imust fly!' she exclaimed. 'Danger, here, attacks me in everyquarter,--assails me in every shape! I must fly!--I must fly!'
This project, which had its origin in her terrour of Elinor, was nowconfirmed by the most profound, however troubled meditation. Todifficulties of discussion which she deemed insurmountable withHarleigh; to claims of a confidence which she now considered to bedeeply dangerous with Lord Melbury; and to indignities daily, nay,hourly, more insufferable from Mrs Ireton, were joined, at this moment,the horrour of another interview with Lord Denmeath, still morerepugnant to her thoughts, and formidable to her fears.
She refused to descend to the evening-summons of Mrs Ireton; determiningto avoid all further offences from that lady, to whom she had alreadyannounced her intended departure; yet she sighed, she even wept atquitting with the same unexplained abruptness Lord Melbury and Harleigh;and the cruel disappointment, mingled with strange surmizes, of theingenuous Lord Melbury; the nameless consternation, blended withresentful suspence, of the impassioned Harleigh; presented scenes ofdistress and confusion to her imagination, that occupied her thoughtsthe whole night, with varying schemes and incessant regret.
When the glimmering of light shewed her that she must soon be gone, shemounted to a garret, which she knew to be inhabited by a younghouse-maid, whom she called up; and prevailed upon to go forth, and seeka boy who would carry a parcel to a distant part of the town.
Having thus gotten the street-door open, she guided the boy herself tothe inn; where she arrived in time to save her place; and whence she setoff for London.