Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 258: what you’re looking at

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— ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AWN ACTRESS, Mr. Singleton looked grave, and reflected for a few moments: he then said, “ It all depends, Miss Trafford, on the place to which you desire to go— the length of the journey—the mode of travelling —and so forth. Aided by a strong constitution, you have triumphed marvellously over the peril of those ailments which Lkeset you; and with ordinary care you will speedily be as well as ever you wore. But your health must not be trifled with; and your dramatic ayocations cannot immediately be resumed,” “Tecan assure you that I have no thought of returning to the stage for some weeks. As for the journey which I propose to undertake,” I con- | tinued, “I confess it is rather a long one: but I will accomplish it by easy stages. If I be kept longer chained to this place, my anxiety of mind will only throw me back upon a sick couch.” “This is likewise to be considered,” said Mr. Singleton,—adding with a half smile, “ We medi- cal men are often compelled to humour our pa- tients, as I am now disposed to deal by you. Yes —I will recommend change of air.” “And recommend it to be London,” [ inter- jected. Again Mr. Singleton looked grave: but I plied | him with so many entreaties that at length he acreed to favour my project. He went and sought Mrs, Oldcastle accordingly; and that worthy lady Was soon in my chamber. She remonstrated on the ground that Hunter Street was not in the most salubrious quarter of the metropolis,—ob- serving that if I had any friends at the West End with whom I could stay, she should perhaps be less inclined to oppose my departure. I thought at the time that I had been of sufficient service to the Marchioness of Campanella and the Countess of Carboni to take a slight liberty with their names; and I accordingly intimated that I should be welcome at their abode. Mrs. Oldcastle offered no further objection; and it was agreed I should depart on the morrow. I was inwardly rejoiced at the success of my project—my spirits became cheered—and I in- dulged in the hope that the time was not now far distant when I should clear up my reputation in the presence of Henry Wakefield. The recom- mendation of change of air for the metropolis, was not merely a sufficient pretext for bidding farewell to my friends at River House—but likewise to serve my purpose in the communication which I had to make to Mr. and Mrs, Norman relative to my intended removal. Oa the following day I set out in a post-chaise for the metropolis, having affectionately embraced Mrs, Oldcastle, Juliet, and Mary Gientworth. Still feeling the effects of my recent illness, and fearful of a relapse ere I had accomplished the long | journey that was before me, I only proceeded half the distance to the metropolis on this first day ; and on the following one I completed the remain- der of that portion of my travel. It was still early in the afternoon when I arrived in London; and I at once proceeded to Hunter Street. There I learnt that upwards of three weeks back a young gentleman, announcing himself as my cousin Mr. Wakefield, had called to see me, and that he dis- played considerable disappointment on not finding me there. He was informed by the domestics that Mr. and Mrs, Norman were at Ramsgate—but i —_—_—_—_—_—_— that I was staying at River House near Dover. Mr. Wakefield had then hastened away upon re- ceiving this intelligence; and therefore it was evi- ‘dent that he had lost little timo in seeking me at Mrs. Oldcastle’s abode. From Hunter Street I repaired to the Marquis of Campanella’s mansion at the West End of the town,—having previously informed Mr. Norman’s servants whither I was going. I was received with open arms by the Marchioness and Beatrice ; and when I craved their hospitality until the next | day, it was cordially vouchsafed, accompanied with the regret that my sojourn beneath that roof was to be so short. I alleged as my reason for seeking a temporary asylum there, the fact that the Nor- mans were out of town, and that I did not like to be all by myself at the house in Hunter Street. I was rejoiced to see how well Beatrice was look- ing; aud I learnt that she had heard nothing more of her husband. On the following morning, as I was in the midst of my toilette, a lady’s-maid entered the chamber to inform me that a young person who had just come from Hunter Street, wished to see me. I thought it must be one of the maids of Mr. Nor- man’s establishment ; and i desired that she might be shown up. Great was my surprise, therefore, when in a few minutes Beda bounded into the room. Seizing my hand, she pressed it to her lips with an effusion of joy; and then she raised her large dark eyes towards my countenance in a manner which seemed most pathetically to deprecate any annoyance that I might feel at the step which she had thus of her own accord taken. But how could I possibly chide the poor girl who had shown so many proofs of fidelity, love, and devotion to- wards meP “ And how came you here, Beda?” I asked ina kind tone. “Oh! I learnt, Miss, that you had been ill,” ex- claimed the girl; “and for the last three weeks I have been longing to come to you—but I knew not where you were staying. Yesterday morning Mrs. Norman received a letter from you; and L happened to overhear her reading a part of its contents to Mr. Norman. Thus I learnt you were coming to London: but I was then ignorant that you meant to stay elsewhere than in Hunter Street. I besought Mrs. Norman to suffer me to come to you: but she refused, saying that if you had wished to have me you woud have intimated that desire in your letter. Oh! then I was so un- happy and miserable, and I wept so all day long— for I thought you no longer cared for me 2 “Poor Beda!” I said, tapping her cheek fondly, “Think you that I shall ever forget the immense services you rendered me the other day at Rams- gate? But proceed. I hope you did not leave Mr. and Mrs. Norman without their consent ?” “See, Miss!” exclaimed Beda, presenting me a note: ‘ this will doubtless explain everything.” The letter was from Mrs, Norman,—in which she informed me that Beda seemed so unhappy at not being allowed to attend me in London, that she had taken it.upon herself to grant the per- mission which the girl so much desired. It then appeared that nothing would satisfy Beda but that she must come up by the night-coach, so as to be with me as soon as possible. Mrs, Norman did Com JOO 6S Com