Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 167: what you’re looking at

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

—_-- ——— -—- — 154 ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. “ Ellen, you are very kind,” said Mary,—“ very, | kind: but Oh! my soul had received such a shock very kind, my dear friend,” she continued in a voice tremulous with emotion: and then, as her accents grew firmer and she evidently regained her self-possession, she added, ‘‘ But why, dear Ellen, should you think that there is anything so very serious af “ Mary, I do not merely think,” I answered— “ but I know beyond the possibility of doubt that you are cherishing a terrible secret—that the time will come when you will stand in need of all the assistance of friendship ? “ Ellen !’—and it was now a ghastly look which '—-my whole disposition. was altered—it seemed as | if I had gone to sleep the same being that I always was, and had then awakened with utterly different instincts and with entirely another nature!” i shuddered as I listened: but I was neverthe- less bestowing the caresses of tenderest sympathy on my afflicted friend. “ And it was on that evening, then, Mary,” I said, * when you returned home in that mood of sombre gloom and cold stupor—it was on that evening that treachery made you its victim xi “Tt was so,” responded Mary. “Oh, Ellen! [ Mary fixed upon me as she was thus suddenly can scarcely bring myself to reveal the particulars thrown off her guard. “Ellen!” she repeated: of the hideous history! But to-morrow or next but then she could say no more, for her tongue | day, when my mind is more calm evidently clave to the roof of her mouth. “Oh, the time for secrecy is past!” I ejacu- lated. “I must tell you ailI know, Mary! I must invoke your confidence by all possible means! | —I must solicit it even perforce, since voluntarily you will not give it to me! Mary,” I added, looking her earnestly in the face, “you are in a way to become a mother !” Se She had seen that this accusation was, about to flow from my lips—she perceived that I was ac- quainted with her position even beforé the words had fallen from my tongue; and the blush of shame was glowing upon her cheeks as those words were spoken. No syllable of denial came from her own lips: that tell-tale glow was spread- ing over her neck, her shoulders, and her bosom ; and as her head drooped upon my breast, the deep convulsive sobs which agitated her entire frame indicated how much she felt. “My poor Mary,” I said, straining her again and again in my arms, “did you not know that from me you would receive all sympathy and con- solation—and that even if you had been weak and frail, I should have abstained from harsh re- proach P” She started from my arms—she stood before me in the middle of the chamber, her countenance still glowing, but now with some other feeling beyond that of shame. Raising her finely modelled arm, she exclaimed, “I swear to you, Ellen, that the diabolical treachery of another, far more than any weakness or frailty on my part, has led to my dishonour and my degradation! To some little extent I was wrong—but not to so fearful an ex- treme! Oh, no, no!—and if you knew all ce ‘And why should I not know all, Mary?” I asked, taking her by the hand, and making her sit by me on the ottoman which was close to her bed. “Tt is three months, Mary, since we thus sat to- gether, in this very spot—and I then implored you to reveal the cause of your despair #4 ‘‘ No—I could not!” exclaimed Mary. “ Besides, I was in that state of mind so fearfully unnatural —balancing between suicide on the one hand and murder on the other ——” “Good heavens, Mary!” I ejaculated: “ what means this dreadful language? Murder . “ Yes !—the murder of the villain who rendered me his victim!” rejoined Mary. ‘Can you not therefore understand that my mind was in a state which rather shunned than courted confidential intercourse with a friend, and which was beyond all the consolations of sympathy. Do not think, Ellen, that towards you I was ungrateful or un- -— ) ‘ 3? “Do you not remember, my dear Mary,” I asked, “that on the former occasion—the one to which I have alluded—three months back—when we sat here together, and I entreated and implored that you would give me your confidence—you as- ssured me that if I would only have patience until the following day 5 “True, dearest Ellen!” interrupted Mary: “but, Oh! circumstances were so different then! My shame was as yet unknown to you: but now it is no longer a secret! Then I shrank from revealing it: now it is revealed—the most painful portion of the ordeal is past—and a few details will put you in possession of everything! Nevertheless, if you desire it, Ellen—if you fear that I shall yet again treat you with reserve and want of frankness, I will at once enter upon the history. Yes—and better too!” ejaculated Mary; “far better that I should yield to the influences of a mood which is so very different from any that I have known for many weeks past P” “ Proceed, my dear friend,” I said,—“ proceed ;” and we sat together upon the ottoman, I having one .arm thrown round Mary’s neck, and her head half reclining upon my shoulder. ‘‘T must revert,” she said, after a brief pause, “to that memorable date of my existence when, the circumstances of my birth were cleared up, and when the horrible truth was revealed to me that my affections had been unconsciously won by my own half-brother. You know the shock that my soul received — you know how implacable [ became against the Ardleigh family P—you know that even against Herbert himself a species of hatred occupied the place of love in my heart ?” But you are not going to tell me, Mary,” I shudderingly asked, “that anything of all this subsequently changed—that you and Herbert Dal- rymple met again ya “Good heaven, no!” ejaculated Mary, starting with affright at the bare idea which had prompted the question on my part. “Oh, no! no! . Butaf I am now referring to those incidents, Hilen, it is only to remind you of the impression which they produced upon me—to recall to your. recollection the effect that they left upon my mind 4 ; “Oh, yes—now I understand, Mary!” I said, breathing more freely. ‘“ You suffered much, I know, my poor friend!—all the best affections of your heart were blighted—you were made to feel as if you were an object destined to become the focus of all possible calamities—and in your despair you proclaimed to me that the power of love was dead within you!” -_ (EO) book C -_——- - - (E(@)