Agnes, or, Beauty and Pleasure — page 69: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

AGNES; OR, BEAUTY AND PLEASURE. 61 Cicely was on the point of turning away and proceeding in some other direction, so as to avoia a meeting with Mrs. Chicklade,—when a second thought struck her. ‘If she persist in thus meddling with matters which concern only myself, she will end by com- promising me seriously. I have a difficult game to play : it must be played well and prudently: a single false step on my part, or any meddling folly on the part of another, may destroy every- thing! Besides, to think that this vile wretch should dare thrust herself forward! No—by heaven ! it shall be put an end to, I care not how !” Such were the rapid musings of Cicely Neale ; and when she arrived at this final decision, her rich red lips were compressed as if with the firm resoluteness that had taken possession of her soul, She quickened her pace, and speedily came up with Mrs. Chicklade. The old woman was nothing abashed on perceiving Cicely : perhaps she rather expected such a meeting than otherwise. “One word with you!—follow me!” said Miss Neale in a peremptory and indeed imperious tone —as if it were she who had a right to command, and as if so far from feeling that she was in the old woman’s power, it was she herself who in reality bad the means of coercion within her reach. She turned into a Jane leading between some fields which the hands of speculating builders had not as yet begun to deface ; and Mrs. Chicklade followed, until a sufficiently secluded spot for the interview was reached. There Miss Neale sud- denly stopped short ; and turning round upon Mrs. Chicklade, she demanded in a resolute, almost stern voice, What are you doing in this neigh- bourhood ?” “I may as well ask what you yourself are doing,” replied Mrs. Chicklade insolently. “I suppose the streets, roads, alleys, lanes, and other thoroughfares of London and its neighbourhood are as open to me as they are to you——”’ “ Cease this impertirence !” interrupted Cicely, her large blue eyes, which were usually of a soft expression, now flashing the sudden fire of indigna- tion. “ All this jargon on your side would be very well under ordinary circumstances: but it is other- wise with you and me. I bade you beware, the day before yesterday, how you ever again crossed my path a “And what if I care not for your threats P— what if I threaten in return?” demanded Mrs. Chicklade : but still she could not be altogether as insolent as at this moment she wished; for there was something in the resolute looks of Cicely Neale—something in the haughty carriage of that fine tall form now drawn up to its full height —which cowed and overawed the coarse vulgar mind of the old woman. “You have addressed me in this language before,” responded Cicely ; “and I have told you that I am not moved by your threats. Tell the tale if you will—and who will believe you? To whom that I care about, can you obtain access to tell your tale at all? I who have experienced 80 much, and have yet so much to do in the world, am not to be intimidated by such a comparative trifle as your menace. But observe !—and under- stand me well! Lam vindictive, horribly vindic- tive !—and if you dare again cross my path, I will crush you as I would a worm! Now you under- stand how it is I am enabled to defy you, and why itis that I do not dread you. By nature good, kind, and generous—though I say it of my- self—yet am I capable of any deed—aye, even the extremest, to rid myself of one who dares haunt me, or who dares intrude upon the path which £ am pursuing !” “ Do you mean, Miss, that you would murder me ?” asked Mrs. Chicklade, now actually fright- ened at Cicely’s flaming looks, sternly resolute language, and dilating form: for the old woman felt herself to be attenuated and feeble—and there she was, in a lonely spot, in the presence of a tall fine-crown young person in all the vigour of health and strength. ** Murder you ?” ejaculated Cicely. “Ask me if I would place my heel upon the venomous reptile that was insidiously gliding towards me to plunge its fangs into my flesh!—ask me, ina word, if driven to the extremity of turning round in self-defence, I would not do anything to rid myself of one who seems resolved to become my foe! And this is not the first time I have said to myself that you are a wretch of that odious nature —a vile creature of that abominable stamp, which would almost justify a crime as the means of rid- ding one-self of you!” While Cicely was thus speaking, in language partly fierce, partly scornful, and partly abhorrent, a suspicion stole into the mind of Mrs. Chicklade. She knew herself to be a coward with all her inso- lent bullying ; and she thought that Cicely, having fathomed her real character, was endea- vouring to overawe and intimidate her by means of threats which she was in reality altogether incapable of carrying out. This idea, although associated with her own innate consciousness of cowardice, inspired the old woman with courage ; and she exclaimed, “Very well, Miss! you choose to threaten me—you think fit to make me your enemy! I wanted to be your friend—I came up into this neighbourhood to watch and observe what might be going on, so that I might bring you the necessary information: but as it is 7 * Cease, vile woman !—irritate me no more!” ejaculated Cicely ; “ or by heavens, I shall do you a mischief! Beware! I give you due warning !” —and the naturally mild blue eyes of Miss Neale were now flashing forth vivid fires; while her fine if not handsome courtenance was distorted with the fierceness of her emotions; and her superb bust was swelling and dilating as if it would burst its prisonage of corset. ‘‘ Beware, I repeat ! —say not another word to irritate me—or as you are now a living woman, you shall in a few minutes be a dead one! I will fly at your throat —y fingers shall tighten like an iron vice upon your neck I will throttle you !” Mrs. Chicklade was now once again com- pletely cowed, affrighted, and overawed. Cicely seemed to be inspired with the fury of a de- moness; and all the wickedness of a fiend was for a few moments depicted on tbat countenance which usually expressed far softer feelings, blendea even, as we have formerly said, with a certain sub- dued air of sensuousness. The old woman was evidently bewildered for a brief space what to say or how to act—until she was startled from her CoOMmclboooks CO