CHAP. VIII.

"Good friend, go to him; for by this light of Heaven I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:-- If e'er my will did trespa.s.s 'gainst his love, Either in discourse or thought, or actual deed; Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense, Delighted them in any other form-- Comfort, forswear me!--unkindness may do much; And his unkindness may defeat my life, But never taint my love."

OTh.e.l.lO.

Silent and gloomy was the ride homewards. St. Aubyn, bridling with difficulty the jealous rage which consumed him, sat leaning against one side of the carriage, veiling his eyes with his hand, that they might not for an instant fall on Ellen, who, hardly supporting herself with Jane's help, shed no tears, though grief and vexation heaved her bosom with sighs, which almost burst it; for now her recollection was restored, the dreadful words in which St. Aubyn first addressed her rung in her ears, and swelled her heart with anguish.

At length they reached Cavendish-Square, and were met in the hall by Lady Juliana, whose pride, at first, wounded by Ellen's being from home when she arrived, had, at length, given way to feelings of alarm at her long absence; but when she saw her lifted from the carriage, pale, trembling, and half-dead, terrified and astonished, she vainly demanded an explanation alternately from St. Aubyn and the frightened Jane; her nephew pa.s.sing her hastily, and in silence, went into his study, and instantly shut and fastened the door. There he meant to consider with himself what part it became him to take, and how to elucidate this extraordinary event.

Ellen, throwing herself into Lady Juliana's arms, exclaimed, "Oh! my dearest madam, let me die at once, for my Lord is angry with me!"

"Die!" cried Lady Juliana, struggling with a thousand terrors; "Nonsense! for what? Do you suppose no man was ever angry with his wife before? You are so unused to it, it seems strange to you, but you may a.s.sure yourself few wives would think it so extraordinary."

By this time they had reached Ellen's dressing-room, where, having placed her on a sofa, and given her some restoratives, Lady Juliana said, "But what is all this about--what offence have you committed?"

"Oh! madam, I know not; but it is too true, St. Aubyn has said such words to me, such words as I never thought to hear from him!"

"What is the meaning of all this?" said Lady Juliana, turning to Jane.

"Speak, girl, if you have not quite lost your senses, or do not wish that I should lose mine, and tell me where your lady has been, and what has happened."

Jane, now, as well as the confusion she was in would let her, repeated the adventures of the morning to Lady Juliana, the visit to the officer's widow, and the old blind lady; and lastly, why they went to Mrs. Birtley's: "And it was I," she said, "that persuaded her Ladyship to go to that disagreeable Mrs. Birtley's--out of pride, I own it--it was out of pride, that she might see what a grand place I had got, and that _my_ lady was not the sort of person that cross old woman fancied she was; and her Ladyship would not even have alighted or gone into her trumpery parlour, if the horses had not been so frightful, and the coachman said, says he, "my Lady had better alight, for the horses--"

"Grant me patience!" said Lady Juliana: "this girl's tongue is enough to distract me! Well, and when you were in her trumpery parlour, as you call it, what happened then? Was Lord St. Aubyn angry that you went there?"

"Oh! no, my Lady, not for that; but the instant after we went in, and while Mrs. Birtley was chattering about the book, and about her lodger (and to be sure there never was such another chattering woman in the world, and looking at my lady from head to foot, so saucy-like, I was quite in a pa.s.sion with her), I saw my lady turn pale, and thinking she was going to faint, I made Mrs. Birtley go for some water, for I knew well enough how your Ladyship would scold if _my_ Lady was to be ill, and so I told Mrs. Birtley."

"Will this tale ever have an end?" cried the impatient Lady Juliana.

"Well, my Lady, and so just as Mrs. Birtley was gone for the water, and we were got up to go away, in came a young man: I believe, for my part, he was quite mad, not indeed that I am any particular judge of mad people, for I remember the first day your Ladyship came here I thought--but I believe I had better not tell _that_;--however, this young man _was_ mad for certain, for the moment he saw my Lady, he ran to her, and seemed as if he was going to catch her in his arms. I screamed, and when her Ladyship said she was terrified, he quite raved, and called her names, and said something about her shame, and her being ruined, and her jewels, last night, and I don't know what."

"And who, for Heaven's sake, was this man?" asked the astonished Lady Juliana.

"Oh, it was Ross! Charles Ross!" sobbed Ellen; "and St. Aubyn came in while he was speaking to me, and said I came there to meet him, to his very lodgings; and then I fainted quite away."

"So, so, so!" repeated Lady Juliana; "a pretty piece of work! I see what this mistake will end in! But stay; surely it is not too late: I will go to St. Aubyn."

"Yes, go to him, Madam, for Heaven's sake go to him, and explain it to him. a.s.sure him I could not have an idea that Charles Ross lodged at Mrs. Birtley's. Oh! how cruel to be obliged to make this explanation: can St. Aubyn really think so ill of me? Yet, surely, surely he will be undeceived--this is only a momentary start of pa.s.sion!"

Lady Juliana shook her head, for she knew St. Aubyn's temper; and how hardly he would endure to hear even her on such a subject; yet, if he would but condescend to hear what the servants, who attended the Countess in this unfortunate excursion, what this Mrs. Birtley would say, their stories would doubtless confirm that of Ellen; for of the truth of that story Lady Juliana had not the smallest doubt; but she knew how St. Aubyn's pride would revolt, and his delicacy be hurt, by the necessity of interrogating such people on the conduct of his wife.

She felt herself indeed angry with Ellen for the childish impatience which had taken her out in the morning, after the fright of the night before had rendered repose so desirable, and for going to Mrs.

Birtley's at all; but she could easily forgive a folly apparently of so little importance, since it was quite impossible for Ellen to have foreseen the chain of circ.u.mstances which followed, and involved her in so much distress.

How St. Aubyn happened to go to the same place, no one could guess; it appeared, indeed, extremely unlikely that he should have done so; but, as singular coincidences no less singular do sometimes occur, though their rarity makes us call them improbable, unless they arise within our own immediate knowledge.

The real truth was this: St. Aubyn, recollecting that Charles Ross had said the night before, "_the woman where you lodged found you out_," had determined to ascertain, from this woman herself, what she had told Ross, and how she had dared to speak of him and Ellen in such terms; and to explain who her Mr. and Mrs. Mordaunt really were, that no farther slander, even in Mrs. Birtley's narrow circle, might attach to the purity of Lady St. Aubyn's character, had walked thither from Sir Edward Leicester's, with whom he had sat some time, arranging the particulars of their intended meeting with Charles Ross the next morning; there, to his utter astonishment, he found Lady St. Aubyn's carriage in waiting; and inquiring of the servants where she was, was answered, in that house, meaning Mrs. Birtley's.

"And Miss Cecil?"

"No, my Lord; Miss Cecil did not come out with my Lady, only Mrs. Jane."

St. Aubyn recollected Ellen's apparent agitation in the morning; the letter he had found her reading, and which she so hastily concealed; her having said Laura would go with her; yet she had come with only her maid, a young ignorant girl, come to the very house where he believed Ross was residing; that Ross, of whom, though almost unknown to himself, some secret jealousy had always lurked in his heart.

All these circ.u.mstances rose at once to his memory; and, without waiting to knock or ring, the door standing open, he rushed hastily into the parlour, where the first object that struck his sight was his wife, his beloved, his adored Ellen, while her hand was held by the man on earth he most detested, the man who but the night before had insulted her and outraged him! What could he think? Was it wonderful that the fury which swelled his heart broke into words of reproach and anger? Was it not rather wonderful he could so far command himself, so far reflect, as to return with her apparently calm, and that he did not at once cast from him a woman who must have appeared so ungrateful and insincere?

Lady Juliana having with the aid of Miss Cecil and Jane put Ellen to bed, would have retired to seek her nephew, leaving Laura shocked, astonished, and grieved, remaining with her friend; but seeing the flush of fever on her cheek, and an unusual brilliancy in her eyes, they sent without delay to the family physician, who, after asking a few questions, and learning the Countess had been alarmed, and was then under the influence of terror for her lord, who, Laura whispered to him, they feared was meditating a duel with a gentleman who had insulted Lady St. Aubyn, the doctor shook his head, and said if her mind were not quieted immediately, he would not be answerable for the consequences: she had, he said, every symptom of an alarming fever, and that if she were not soothed, and kept quiet, the worst event might be expected both to herself and the unborn babe.

Alarmed beyond measure, Lady Juliana now ran to seek St. Aubyn. With some difficulty she prevailed on him to grant her admittance, and with still greater, to hear what she had to say. She repeated the whole story Jane had told her: he shook his head, was silent, but not convinced. She saw his incredulity, and with some hesitation proposed to interrogate the men servants who went out with their lady as to the real cause of her alighting at Mrs. Birtley's. He started indignantly from the idea; but Lady Juliana a.s.suring him she could ask in such a way as should give them no suspicion why they were questioned, he at last consented, and ringing the bell, she ordered the coachman to be sent to her.

"John," said she, "your lady has been frightened at something or other this morning during her absence from home. Were the horses restive?"

"No, my Lady: the horses went as quiet as lambs to ---- Street, where we stopped while my Lady went into a house, I believe to see a poor family, as her Ladyship does sometimes; and then we went to the poor old blind lady's, that Mrs. Jane says her Lady maintains; and after that we went to another house, where my Lady said she would not alight, and told Mrs.

Jane to make haste and get the book, for she would not stop an instant; but I was afraid to turn the carriage with her Ladyship in it, the street being very narrow just there, and a dray standing at the house opposite, for fear the horses should prance a little, which my Lady is always afraid of; and so I begged her just to alight a minute while I turned, which she seemed not to like to do, but the old lady of the house coming out and persuading her, she said she would get out for a minute, and the people staring at her as she stood on the pavement, she went into the house, and I believe something or somebody frightened her, for as I drew up to the door, which was not directly, for the horses were a little unruly, I saw a young man go into the parlour where my Lady was waiting, and a minute after, I heard Mrs. Jane scream; and I was going in, and so was James, but just as I was getting off my box, and Richard was standing at the head of the horses, my Lord came up, and afterwards I found my Lady had fainted away."

"Then your Lady had only been there a short time?"

"Not above ten minutes I am sure, Madam, and as Mrs. Jane screamed when the gentleman went into the parlour, I think he must have frightened her."

"Very well, John: I was afraid it was the horses, and if so, Lady St.

Aubyn should never have gone with them again."

"Oh, no, my Lady, the horses are quiet enough, poor things, only that narrow street made me think my Lady had better alight."

The man then retired, and Lady Juliana said:--"Well, St. Aubyn, are you now satisfied?"

"Not quite; all this might have been contrivance and art."

"How is it possible you can think so! Did you ever see the slightest trace of either in Ellen?"

"Yes, to-day. Why did she tell me Laura was going with her? Why conceal where she was going?"

"Laura lamented just now not having gone out with Ellen, as she requested on account of a bad head-ache: as to Ellen's not telling you where she was going, that arose from a fear lest you should prevent, what, with the natural impatience of youth, she had set her heart upon.

But if you still doubt, let us inquire of this woman, this Mrs.----what's her name?--the mistress of the house where you lodged: she can tell what Lady St. Aubyn's errand was there, and why she alighted."

"Good G.o.d! Madam," said St. Aubyn, peevishly, "would you have me go about collecting evidences whether I ought to believe my wife blameless, or the most deceitful of women?"

"Yes I would," replied Lady Juliana, warmly, "if you can suspect her; if such modesty, such guileless sincerity, and purity of words and manners as I never before saw in woman, have no power to convince you: if you can set against them all this one unlucky accident, for I am sure it is no more, you ought to do every thing, seek every body who can give you information. Good G.o.d! to what purpose is it, as to this world, that a woman should lead the purest and most unspotted life, if one equivocal appearance can drive all confidence, all reliance, from the heart which ought to know her best!"

Touched by this generous warmth, St. Aubyn began to feel convinced he had gone too far: he knew how penetrating Lady Juliana was, how much she had been prejudiced against Ellen, and how cautiously she would have observed, ere she had given to her an affection and confidence so tender: he called to mind many "a proof of recollected love," of native modesty, of the strictest principles in his wife, and began deeply to repent his jealous rashness; but suddenly recollecting the note he had seen in her hands, and the haste with which she had concealed it, he hastily said:--"But the letter! What letter was that I found her reading?"

"What letter?" asked Lady Juliana.

"One I found her reading this morning, just before she went out; she seemed agitated, and had tears in her eyes, and as I entered, she put it into the fold of her morning dress."

"And there," said Lady Juliana, eagerly, "I found it, when we undressed her just now: I have not opened it; here it is." She drew it from her pocket. St. Aubyn recollected it to be the same, and opened it with trembling hands. It was, as has been stated, from the officer's widow to Jane, entreating her good offices with her lady, and describing her own distress, agreeing exactly with what Ellen and her maid had told Lady Juliana, and she had repeated to St. Aubyn. Such a corroboration of her story he could resist no longer; but shocked, alarmed, and ashamed, he hastily said: