Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 213: what you’re looking at

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

LL sn 200 you believe that under my grandmother’s care she will not have the best example, nor be kept aloof from the scenes of temptation and of vice? You imagine that she will be tutored in all kinds of duplicities and deceits, so that her youthful mind will become prepared for the complete abandon- ment and depravity of a mature womanhood ?” “ All this I fear, Zarah,” was my seriously uttered response; “and it fills my mind with affliction to think that a being who might be ren- dered one of the world’s brightest crnaments, may only add another name to the long catalogue of feminine ruin and profligacy.” Zarah reflected profoundly for some moments ; and then she said, “ Yes—it is indeed all but too true. Until this day I had not seen Beda since she was a mere child; and I confess I was as- tonished at her exceeding beauty. She could not come to me the night before last : but she came to me just now—and I have given her full in- structions accordirg to the promise which I made you. I spoke to her of you in such terms as to inspire her with a vivid interest on your behalf; and I am convinced that Beda is to be trusted. She promised faithfully to execute my bidding in every respect.” ‘‘ Tell me more about this Beda,” I said. “ You have already given me to understand that she be: longs to the gipsy tribe.” ‘She is an orphan,” observed Zarah, “as I my- self am. Her parents belonged to what I may term the higher order of our race. They travelled in a caravan of their own, and had two horses. They both died of the fever a few years ago,—since which time Beda has lived with an old female rela- tive, who settled in a hut in the neighbourhood of Tottenham. My grandmother happened to learn that Beda was not very happy with the old crone ; and she therefore had no difficulty in inducing her to come and live henceforth under her protection. And now you know ail, Miss Percy, that I have it in my power to tell with regard to the young creature who has so much excited your interest.” “It is not therefore too late,” I exclaimed, “ to rescue Beda from a mode of existence which can- not be profitable to her ?” “What do you mean, Miss Percy?” asked Zarah. “ You have evidently some project in your mind P” “ When does your grandmother leave London P?” I suddenly demanded. “Not for some days to come,” rejoined Zarah. “ She is unwell: she and Beda are living alone to- gether at the old farm-house which Edwin St. Clair temporarily hired as a most convenient place for carrying out his designs in respect to your- self.” « And do you think,” I inquired, still with hasty utterance, “ that if it were told to Beda that there was a lady who would take her into her service— treat her kindly—give her the means of an edu- cation which perhaps has been hitherto only too much neglected “A “And you would do this, Miss Percy?” ex- claimed Zarah, in mingled astonishment and admi- ration. “Yes—I would do this!” I emphatically re- plied. ‘Oh, yes! I should be rejoiced to snatch that beautiful flower from the midst of the blight- jog atmosphere which it now inhales |” — — — ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. -——— - “Tt can be done—doubtless it can be done!” said Zarah, in a musing strain. “TI can tell my grandmother that I require Beda as an attendant for myself—I will represent to her that so young a creature is unfit to be near her when epilepsy strikes her down in a word, Miss Percy, you shall see Beda here to-morrow; and if having conversed with her you remain in the same mind, and she herself is agreeable, I will undertake that my grandmother shall consent to part from her.” * Be it as you say, Zarah. At this same hour to-morrow I will be here. And now tell me, have you succeeded in discovering any additional infor- mation in respect to the foreign gentleman ?” “*'Yes—some few particulars,” answered Zarah. “ Yesterday afternoon I seized an opportunity, when he himself was out—his valet was likewise absent—the old landlady was having her usual nap after dinner, and the housemaid was engaged in the bed-rooms,—I seized that opportunity, I say, to glide into the parlour occupied by the foreign gentleman. On the mantel-piece I discovered a card-case—I took one of the cards—here it is—you can see the name that is upon it.” Yes—it was the name of the Count of Carboni! “But, as I learnt from the housemaid,” con- tinued Zarah, “this is not the name by which he is known at these lodgings. It must however be his real name, as it is on his card; and it was most probably by accident that he left the card- case itself lying about. I have still some more particulars to tell you. The housemaid informed me that in a large portfolio in his bed-room— amongst several prints and water-colour drawings, all beautifully executed, there is one, of the latter description, which the girl has looked upon with feelings of alarm and horror. She told me how she came to pay particular attention toit. She one day entered the bed-room, not thinking that the foreigner was there,—when she beheld him standing, as she thought, before the looking-glass : but a second glance showed her, as she paused an instant to apologize for her intrusion, that he was contemplating a picture which he had placed against that glass—in order, no doubt, that it might stand there conveniently for his inspection. He did not immediately perceive the girl; but when she spoke, he abruptly turned round and bent upon her a look so strange and haggard that she was frightened. When next she was in that bed-room—alone there—and with the certainty that the gentleman was not in the house—she felt an irresistible curiosity to look into the contents of the portfolio,.—a curiosity which she had not pre- viously experienced, and which arose from .the idea that it was the subject of some picture which had produced such an effect upon the foreign gentle- man as he contemplated it.” « And what followed ?” I inquired. “‘The maid unfastened the strings of the port- folio,” continued Zarah ; “and she looked over its contents. As she said to me while telling me this story, she did not see any particular harm in look- ing at a few pictures: it was not the same as if she were violating the sanctity of anything kept under lock and key. Amongst the water-colour drawings, was the one the subject of which ins spired her with so much dismay and horror. She described it to me minutely ; and I carefully trea- sured up everything she said,” CEONMMKE NOOO KS ¢€oim