“In any case, I shall never behold her again,” said Mr. Warburton.
“You can scarcely regret that,” said Sister Aline. “Not now,” replied the Squire. “I have conquered the strong affection I once had for her, and wish never again to meet her, if I can help it, as the meeting would give me the greatest pain. You do not, I suppose, advise a reconciliation between us?”
“Certainly not, as long as she remains with Darcy. Were she to quit him, and lead a life of penitence, I should counsel you to forgive her. But not now. Her heart, I trust, may be changed, but till I am satisfied it is so, I would reject her, were she to seek admission to a religious retreat. She has had her chance of restoration, but she has thrown it away.”
“Are you willing to visit her again, and endeavour to bring her back from her errors.”
“I doubt whether she could be brought back,” replied Sister Aline; “but I am certain it is a task far beyond my power — and I will not attempt it.”
“Do not relinquish it without due consideration.”
“But I may fail — and failure would to me be dreadful.”
“With your earnestness and zeal, I do not think you can fail,” said the Squire, “Well, I will reflect seriously upon the matter tonight, and tell you what I think in the morning. Say nothing more to me now.”
Mr. Warburton leaned back on his pillow, and became perfectly silent.
That night he slept a few hours and awoke considerably refreshed next morning.
He was very anxious to learn whether Sister Aline was willing to undertake the task he had proposed to her.
“I have thought the matter over,” she said, “and though I doubt whether I shall succeed, I am willing to set out on the mission.”
“When will you go?” asked the Squire.
“Without delay,” she replied. “I have nothing now to detain me here. I shall proceed at once to Boulogne, and if I do not find them there will go on to Paris.”
“Then pray take that pocket-book with you,” said Mr. Warburton, pointing to one lying on a chair beside the bed. “It contains bank-notes, and you will need a supply of money with you. Should you require more hereafter, write to me, and it shall be sent at once.”
“When I have anything to communicate you shall hear from me,” said Sister Aline.
“Is it your intention to set out at once?” asked the Squire. “If so, the carriage shall be ordered for you.”
“I should like the carriage to take me to Chester.”
“Your wishes in that respect shall be attended to, and anything else you may require,” said Mr. Warburton.
At this moment Stanley entered the room.
“What sort of night have you passed?” he asked.
“The best since my attack,” replied the Squire. “But a change in the arrangements has taken place. Sister Aline is about to return to France, and will require the carriage to take her to Chester.”
“When will she start?” asked Stanley.
“As soon as she has breakfasted,” replied the Squire.
“Then I will go down and give the necessary orders,” said Stanley, quitting the room.
“Say nothing to him as to the errand on which you are bent,” remarked the Squire.
“I did not intend to do so,” she replied. “He would interfere with my purpose, and instead of bringing back the fugitive wife we should have a duel, in which Stanley himself might possibly be killed. I will now bid you farewell. I shall not attempt to bring your daughter back unless I am satisfied she is truly penitent I feel the difficulty of my task, and if I fail, as I may do, you must not blame me. Keep yourself, I pray you, as composed as you can. Farewell! Heaven’s peace be with you!”
On coming downstairs, Sister Aline was met by Stanley, who took her to the dining-room, where she made a slender breakfast She then entered the carriage, which was already at the door, and drove off to Chester.
CHAPTER XLIII.
SISTER ALINE PROCEEDS TO BOULOGNE.
As Sister Aline travelled by the night mail, she reached Boulogne at an early hour next morning. She found that a very good set of rooms had been engaged at the Hotel des Bains by the fugitive couple, and she resolved to present herself to Mildred as soon as practicable. This was more easily accomplished than she expected, for she found a door partially open, and on looking into the room she saw Mildred, who had just returned from a bath.
Determined to take advantage of the opportunity, she entered the room and closed the door after her. On recognising her, the young lady would have insisted on her immediate departure, but Sister Aline said with great quickness, “I am the bearer of a message to you from your father, and I hope you will allow me to deliver it.”
“Is he well?” asked Mildred.
“He has been very dangerously ill,” replied Sister Aline; “and his mind has been affected. But he is somewhat better now.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Mildred. “I did not suppose he would have suffered so much.”
“Were you not aware that he loved you better than any thing on earth?”
“I knew that he loved me — but not to that extent.”
“He would have made any sacrifice for you. Nor do I think he would now refuse you forgiveness, were you to beg it from him.”
“I must confess I should like to behold him again.”
“Depend upon it, you will never be perfectly happy till you are reconciled to him.”
“I, myself, am of that opinion — but I fear it can never be. Stanley and I have not more completely separated than my father and myself.”
“True, but in my opinion your father would welcome you back — whereas no meeting can ever again take place between you and Stanley.”
“I do not desire it,” said Mildred.
“Before I leave, I wish to say a word to you,” remarked Sister Aline. “If you are dissatisfied, go back to your father. I am certain he will receive you. Lead a new life. Once I was as indifferent to devotion and acts of penitence as yourself, but now these are my greatest comfort. Your excellent father is most anxious that your life should change, and I believe his prayers will prevail.”
Just then Darcy entered the room, and absolutely started when he beheld Sister Aline.
“What? you here again?” he cried.
“Yes, I have been trying to prevail on Mildred to return to her father, who is still dangerously ill.”
“I am very sorry for him,” said Darcy. “But what can I do?”
“Send back his daughter.”
“He would not take her back, were I to send her,” said Darcy.
“You are mistaken,” replied Sister Aline. “He has been looking for her daily. He felt certain she would never remain with you.”
“Tell my father I will never leave Captain Darcy,” cried Mildred.
“Mr. Warburton will not believe that statement,” said Sister Aline.
“Say to Mr. Warburton, from me,” observed Darcy, “that nothing shall induce me to give up his daughter. Circumstances, I hope, will enable me, before long, to marry her — and then we shall both be entirely happy. But think not you will prevail on Mildred to leave me and return. That she never will.”
“Never!” cried Mildred. “I am grieved for my father, who is the kindest of men, but I have no pity for my husband. I have never loved him since I married him — nor has he loved me. His affections were fixed on Rose Hylton, and I hope he will marry her, should a divorce be obtained. It must have been evident to all — even to my father, I should think — that ours was never likely to prove a happy union. We were scarcely ever together. Stanley set out every morning, immediately after breakfast for Brereton, where he remained during the day, while I amused myself as I best could at Beaucliffe. But I was not satisfied with this kind of life, though I bore it for some time without a murmur. I became a prey to the most terrible ennui. At last an accident brought Captain Darcy to the house, and I obtained a new interest. He made himself agreeable to me, and I began to like him �
� far better than Stanley. He perceived this, and paid me still greater attention, and I was soon fast bound to him by love’s chains. Lady Talmash tried to check this growing attachment, but it was already far beyond her power. However, she was resolved that he should leave the house, and after an interview had taken place between them he departed. But though he was driven from Beaucliffe I heard constantly from him. The thoughts of quitting my husband gave me little pain, for by this time I had lost even the slight regard I entertained for him, but I seriously dreaded leaving my dear father, as I knew how deeply my flight would grieve him — and more than once my departure was postponed. Eventually it was settled that I should start from Brereton, while Darcy was to wait for me on horseback, about five miles off on the road to Chester. On that morning, I believe, I appeared light and unconcerned, but I never felt more anxious. Just before I was about to start I went behind my father and kissed his hand, but in a careless manner, so as not to attract any particular attention. Stanley, I felt sure, would give me no trouble. Nor did he. He scarcely said a word to me that morning. Such was our farewell. I have no regard for Brereton, and I care not if I never behold the place again, but I gave one look at the house, as I dashed through the gates. I then galloped off — not that I feared pursuit — but I wanted excitement — and didn’t stop till I found Darcy.”
“And never was I so delighted as when I beheld you,” he said. “I had been waiting there nearly two hours, full of uneasiness. Your appearance put all fears to flight, and we then went on to Chester.”
“You will not, I conclude, return with me to your father,” said Sister Aline to Mildred.
“I cannot,” she replied.
“Nor can I expect you, after the explanation you have given me. Not till now did I know what you have sacrificed on quitting your father.”
“She has sacrificed a large fortune,” said Darcy. “If you return to Beaucliffe tell Mr. Warburton he ought to make a fresh settlement The present settlement will merely benefit Stanley Brereton.”
“Tell him to wait till he ascertains whether a divorce can be obtained for us,” said Mildred; “and act accordingly. My father, I am sure, will never knowingly do an injustice.”
“I will tell him exactly what you have told me, and leave him to decide,” replied Sister Aline.
“That is all I ask,” said Mildred. “My conduct, I feel, must appear dreadful to my dear father. But implore him to put the best construction he can upon it I was wretched, though he did not perceive it.”
“I cannot undertake to aid you much,” said Sister Aline; “but I will lay before your father all you have told me concerning your unhappiness in your married state, and leave him to judge. Should he wish me to write to you, I will write. Otherwise not I do not desire to take any part in an affair of this kind.”
“I shall for ever bless you, if you can obtain my father’s forgiveness for me,” cried Mildred.
“I make no promise, but I will use my best efforts to accomplish that end. Farewell!”
Mildred would gladly have detained her, for she had much more to say; but Darcy seemed to think that the interview had already lasted quite long enough. He therefore conducted Sister Aline with the utmost respect to the entrance of the hotel, and would have placed her on board the steam-boat, had she desired it
CHAPTER XLIV.
A CHANGE TAKES PLACE IN MR. WARBURTON’S FEELINGS TOWARDS HIS DAUGHTER.
MR. WARBURTON was not quite so well as he had been when Sister Aline came back to Beaucliffe. The fever had returned, and brought with it rather more mental excitement. Under these circumstances she had to be careful what she told him.
But next day he became much calmer, and she then informed him of her interview with Mildred at Boulogne.
He listened to all she had to tell with the deepest interest, but seemed much vexed and disappointed that his daughter would not return.
“She does not deem her conduct so culpable as you and her husband do, sir,” she said; “and thinks that many and great excuses might be made for her. Amongst others, she affirms that she has long lost all affection for Stanley, and asserts that he is equally indifferent to her. She likewise declares that neglect on his part made her wretched at the commencement of her married life, though she uttered no complaint.”
“I am truly grieved to hear it,” said the Squire. “But I believed she loved him.”
“I must next inform you,” said Sister Aline, “that the fugitives hope to obtain a divorce, and marry.”
“I have no desire that they should marry,” said the Squire, sternly.
“They have no option,” said Sister Aline. “Do not place a fresh obstacle in their path.”
“Should she marry Darcy, I will never behold her again,” said the Squire.
“Do not make that declaration, sir,” rejoined Sister Aline. “Do not cut away your daughter’s sole chance of happiness, which lies in a union with Darcy. Rather aid it.”
“I cannot do that,” said the Squire. “But I will not oppose it The divorce is certain.”
“In that case, the marriage will immediately follow,” said Sister Aline, “and then matters will be set completely right.”
“Not completely,” rejoined the Squire, despondingly. “She will never be the same again.”
“She will be happy, if you will forgive her. Why condemn her to constant unhappiness, when a few kind words from you would relieve her from a weight of anxiety? I believe you have as good a heart as man ever possessed, and certainly no one ever loved a daughter better than you have loved Mildred. That she has deceived you may excite your displeasure, but will not, I am sure, harden your heart altogether against her. To you it would be no satisfaction that she should suffer — nor would you desire that she should be punished as society punishes its offenders. For your own sake, as well as for hers, I entreat you to forgive her. I deeply regret the pain and anxiety you will have to endure while settling the matter — but you will feel very differently when all is over.”
“You move me very much by what you say,” rejoined Mr. Warburton, “and I believe the course you recommend will be the best. All my anger against my daughter has subsided, and in its place are nothing left but kindly feelings.”
“I am glad that such a change has taken place,” said Sister Aline; “and I will write to inform Mildred that you have become more tranquil. Shall I tell her that you may possibly write to her, ere long?”
“No,” he replied. “As yet, I fear, I am not equal to the task. But tell her to think of me with kindness — always with kindness. That we shall meet again, ere long, I do not doubt But whether I can receive her as heretofore I cannot say. I must consult with some of the ladies now staying in the house.”
“They will counsel you not to receive her — of that I am certain,” said Sister Aline.
“I am afraid so,” he replied.
“But you need not be governed by what they say.”
“I haven’t the courage to act otherwise.”
“Not where your daughter is concerned?”
“I mustn’t get blamed again. I will have an immediate consultation with Lady Starkey, and will let you know what she says. I hope you will remain here for a few days.”
“Willingly, if I can do good.”
“Of that there can be no doubt,” said the Squire. Just then the door opened, and Lady Starkey and Lady Talmash entered.
“Sister Aline will remain here for a week,” said the Squire to Lady Talmash. “Be so good as to find her a room.”
“With the greatest pleasure,” replied the other. “Pray come with me.”
As soon as they were gone, Mr. Warburton begged Lady Starkey to be seated.
“I. want the benefit of your ladyship’s advice,” he said. “I have just received a message from my daughter. She means to marry Darcy if she can obtain a divorce, which I doubt not will be accomplished. She is likewise desirous to return here after her marriage.”
“What!” cried Lady Starkey, quite
startled. “Take up her abode once more with you? That is quite out of the question. However your inclinations may prompt you, you cannot do it.”’
“I felt so,” replied the Squire. “But before sending a positive refusal, I wished to consult your ladyship.”
“Mildred can never expect to re-enter this house,” said Lady Starkey, gravely. “She has forfeited all right to do so.”
“True,” groaned the Squire; “but it would be such a comfort to me. I don’t know how I shall be able to get on without her. I have been thinking it over during my illness, and have come to the conclusion that unless Mildred is with me I must leave Beaucliffe. What can I do here by myself?”
“Oh, you can always get plenty of agreeable people to stay with you.”
“But that won’t exactly satisfy me,” cried the Squire. “No one will replace her.”
“You fancy so just now,” said Lady Starkey; “but you’ll become reconciled to her loss in time. At all events, you must submit, since there’s no help — for you can’t have her again. Were she to return, nobody would come to the house, so you would dwell in solitude. No, you must abandon that idea. Fortunately for yourself you have several experienced lady-friends, who will take the management of your house, if you desire it I myself shall be delighted to give assistance for a few months, and then my post can be taken up by Lady Talmash or some one else.”
“Your ladyship is very kind. I am sure I am infinitely indebted to you.”
“I feel for you very much, Mr. Warburton,” she said. “The plan I have suggested is the best that occurs to me, and I am quite certain I can make your house very comfortable. But you mustn’t think of having Mildred and Darcy here. That will never do.”
“Very well,” replied the Squire, with a look of resignation.
CHAPTER XLV.
WHAT PASSED BETWEEN STANLEY AND ROSE.
The Works of William Harrison Ainsworth Page 807