Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

No eee oo =e ee TS EA LE SR LS ——— = 126 ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIES OF AN ACTEESS. oi exaltation, was so abrupt that it frightened me; and I felt that I became deadly pale in my turns. I knew what she meant,—that Ravenseliffe would marry her: but though I could not find it in my heart to destroy this hope, I nevertheless dared not encourage it. “You do not answer me, Ellen !” she exclaimed: and the colour had come back to her lips—and there was a hectic flush upon her cheeks—and her eyes were vibrating with feverish light. “Tell me —tell me quickly, for God’s sake! do you know anything that can prevent Frederick from doing me that last—that only act of justice ?” “T know nothing to prevent him,” I guardedly responded, “beyond the dedaction which it is im- possible to avoid making from his antecedent con- duct towards you.” “Yes!” exclaimed Juliet, with a certain wild- ness: “but when I kneel at his feet and implore him for the sake of his yet unborn child—when I tell him that I forgive all the past—and that if he love me no more, he need never see me again when once he shall have given me that title of wife which may enable me to become a mother without shame and to look the world in the face O God, he cannot possibly refuse me!” The fountains of Juliet’s feelings were now completely unsealed; and the tears gushed out copiously. Long and passionately she wept: she was relieved somewhat; and at length wiping her eyes, she said, “ Tell me everything, Ellen! And, Oh! accept my sincerest, most heartfelt thanks for the kind, the generous interest you have displayed on my behalf!” “T repeat, dearest Julie, the history is brief. I went to Embledon: I saw—I saw—Mr. Croft—— but be is now no longer there—he has gone—he has fled.” “But what did he tell you, Ellen?” asked Juliet. “If I recollect right, you informed me yesterday that you had seen him before I mean before he lent himself to that dreadful per- fidy ?” “ Yes, yes—I had once seen him—at my grand- father’s house at Leeds—when I was a girl—but only for a minute——” “ And you knew his handwriting ?” said Juliet. “Yes—I knew that also,” I responded, consi- derably agitated. “ But believe me, dearest Julie, I knew so littlh—so very, very little of him, that when I saw him on the evening you know to which evening I refer——I was not sure he was the same. And, Oh! if for an instant I had known that he was assuming a sacred character to which he had no right———” “Good heavens, Ellen!” exelaimed Juliet; “this self-vindication on your part is utterly un- called for. But I see that you have nothing more te tell; and God knows you have told me ¢nough! Oh, my poor father! my poor mother !—what will you both say when this frightful truth shall be broken to you ?—Ellen,” she added, quickly, bit- terly, and almost fiercely, “if I did mot think that he would yet do me justice, I should be driven to despair—lI should lay violent hands upon myself! Or else—or else,” she continued more slowly, while her countenance became pale again; “my love would turn to hatred—and I would sacrifice every consideration in order to wreak a deadly yengeance upon him who has dishonoured me!” “ For heaven’s sake talk not thus,” T said, shud- dering at the bare idea of that exposure in which my own father would become involved. “ No, no—I could not do it!” rejoined Juliet, again bursting into tears. “I must live for the sake of my as yet unborn babe!—and I must not brand its father with dishonour, nor invoke the vengeance of the law to smite him ! To-morrow, Ellen, I will seek an interview with Frederick —an interview at which you must be present. In the meantime let nothing be known to my parents: their hearts need not be rent prematurely !—Alas, the hour may come all too soon!” She stopped short; and again she found relief in tears. After a little while she assured me that she was more composed; and she begged me to retire to my own chamber, for that I must stand in need of rest. I saw that she was in reality more tranguillized, though still labouring under the deepest affliction;—and I at last consented to withdraw. But twice during the rest of that night did I steal forth from my own chamber, to listen at the door of her’s. All was still. On the second occasion I peeped in; and I found that she was buried in a deep slamber: for even the mightiest affliction, overpowered by its own weight, will sink through exhaustion into repose. On leaving my chamber in the morning, I re- paired to Juliet’s. 1 found her even more com- posed than I could have anticipated; for her mind was made up to envisage her position resolutely; and she was no doubt sustained by the hope that Lord Frederick Ravenscliffe would make her the only reparation that it now lay in his power to afford. As it was his lordship’s custom to call at about noon, Juliet decided upon keeping her cham- ber until his arrival; so that there might be the less chance of betraying her feelings to her parents. Mr. and Mrs. Norman went out together in the carriage at about mid-day; and Juliet then sought the drawing-room in order to be ready for the re- ception of Lord Frederick. Her parents had not left the house ten minutes when there was a loud double knock at the street door. For a moment Juliet started and became deadly pale, as if she felt that her entire fate now hung in the balance: but the next moment she said, “ It is not Frede- rick’s knock.” The servant entered and handed me a note: the writing of the address was immediately recognised by me; it was that of the Merquis of Dalrymple. I was on the point of handing it back again and de- clining to open it—when it struck me that such & proceeding would only seem singular to the ser- vant, and necessitate an e tion to Juliet. I accordingly read the billet, the contents of which were as follow :— “The Marquis of Dalrymple requests the honour of an immediate interview with Miss Percy. Miss Percy cannot fail to perceive the necessity of — granting this interview, when the Marguis of Dalrymple informs her that he seeks an explana- tion of the astounding statement made by Miss Percy to the Duchess of Ardleigh, to the effect that the Marquis had been guilty of insulting con- duct, of which he is utterly incapable. Indeed, the accusation is 80 serious that the Marquis would be justified in using stronger terms,—only that he _ feels convinced there must be some extraordinary ‘ ECORNIECLOOO com