Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 313: what you’re looking at

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

a 300 “* My dear Ellen,” she exclaimed, as she came hastily towards me, “I could not resist the im- pulse of calling this morning to repeat the con- gratulations which I offered you last night on the occasion of your new triumph—especially after those splendid critiques which I have just been reading. But, Ah! my dear friend! you have a strange look—you are agitated and excited! Heaven grant that no evil intelligence has reached ou!” I held in my hand the letter and the cheque which I had no time to conceal, so suddenly did Melissa burst in upon me: but I was now on the point of thrusting that letter and that cheque be- neath the cushion of the sofa on which I was seated, and of assuring her that nothing had tran- spired to ruffle nor disturb me,—when I was suddenly struck by the thought that she would conceive there was something suspicious in the incident, “Your cheeks were burning a few moments back, Ellen,” she said, surveying me attentively ; “and now they are exceedingly pale. I do hope, my dear friend, that nothing has occurred to annoy youP”’—and she glanced at the letter and the cheque which I held in my hand. “Sudge for yourself, Melissa,” I said, now at once making up my mind how to act. “Sit down and read this letter. Its contents will explain the meaning of the cheque—you will not be surprised that my cheeks were burning with indignation— and you shall give me your advice in respect to the course which I ought to pursue.” Melissa sat down by my side upon the sofa: I gave her the Marquis of Tynedale’s letter; and she read it deliberately and attentively. When she had finished the perusal, she did not immedi- ately make any comment: she reflected for nearly & minute; and at length she said, “ To you, Ellen, it is indeed a flagrant insult: but to almost any one else it would appear in a very different light— and in that different light would be taken,” “At least I thank you, Melissa,” I observed, “for the exception which you have made on my behalf: but I confess that I expected something stronger from your lips = “* My dear Ellen,” she exclaimed, “ I repeat that to you it is an insult of the most unpardonable character: it is a monstrous outrage—because all the world knows that your life is as pure as your genius is brilliant. But did I not speak truly when I hinted that there is many and many a young female who would succumb to so dazzling a temptation? However, let us speak of yourself. You will of course return the insolent nobleman his letter and his cheque in the most contemp- tuous manner which you can possibly adopt ?” “{ thought of two or three different plans,” I replied: “but that is assuredly the best. You mean, I suppose, that I should return the letter and the cheque in a blank envelope e “Such is my meaning,” answered Melissa. “The Marquis of Tynedale will then know pre- cisely the true character of her whom he has audaciously endeavoured to tempt and beguile. If you were to consign his missives to the flames and take no notice of them, he would fancy they had miscarried, and he would persecute you with fresh correspondence. If, on the other hand, you were to write a letter expressive of your indigna- SS ee ee, DLE ALL en ee ELLEN PERCY; ORB, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. — tion, it would serve as an excuse for him to have recourse to his own pen again, and under an apo- logetical semblance renew his overtures in terms still more insidious than these.” “T agree with you, my dear Melissa,” I said, well pleased by the good sense that characterized her reasoning : “the preferable course is.to return the letter and the cheque in a blank envelope.” “And if it please you, Ellen,” rejoined Miss Harrison, “I will deliver the letter at Tynedale Lcdge: for it happens that I am going straight hence to Kensington. My little girl,” she added, in a lower tone, and with a slight flush upon her cheeks, “is now residing with a worthy couple iu that neighbourhood—and I am going to see her.” “You will do me a favour,” I rejoined, “ by leaving the letter for me as you so kindly propose. I shall be thereby not only assured of its safe delivery — but it will reach the Marquis more speedily than if it were transmitted through the post ; and the sooner he becomes aware of my de- cision, the more thoroughly must he appreciate the unhesitating scorn and indignation with which his base overtures have been rejected.” I accordingly enclosed the Marquis of Tyne. dale’s letter and cheque in a blank envelope ; and having sealed and addressed it, I consigned the little packet to the care of Melissa. She then took her departure ; and when I was once more alone, I relapsed into that same train of reflection which I had pursued on the preceding night after my re- turn from the theatre. “ To-morrow,” I said to myself, “is the day on which Mr. Parks has promised to surrender me up the fortune bequeathed me by my grandfather. I shall then become entirely my own mistress—I shall be independent of the stage ; and when the time comes it will not be as a dowerless bride that I shall accompany my cousin Harry to the altar. But even if I choose to remain upon the stage, I shall be enabled to dictate such terms to lessees as will leave me a full discretionary power in re- spect to all the characters in which I may choose to appear. Even as the matter now stands, I will not again appear as Cleopatra !” Having thus made up my mind on this point, I ‘at once sat down and wrote a firm but perfectly courteous letter to Mr. Richards, announcing the resolve not to take again the part which I had performed on the preceding night. This letter I sent off to the post; and I felt as if my mind were relieved of a weight which had been oppress- ing it, It was now two o'clock in the afternoon ; and I had just dressed to go out with the infen- tion of calling upon Lady Cecilia Urban, whom I had not seen for some little time, when I received a note from my father. He therein informed me that he should be in Euston Square at about three o’clock, and that he would like to speak to me for a few minutes, if I could conveniently contrive to be there. I accordingly proceeded to the place named ; and as it was at no great distance from Hunter Street, I went thither on foot. I looked about, but did not see my father. I walked slowly round the Square ; and presently I was passed by an individual whose appearance struck me as being somewhat singular, so that I could not help fling- ing upon him a second glance. <A. mass of light brown curling hair projected beyond the brims of Se ee CONMEIOOKS (ECOL |