Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 243: what you’re looking at

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230 _—o have had a delicate and a painful task to accom- plish; but you have not shrunk from it. In a day or two we shall all leave London, I havea favour to ask. It is that you will in a short time pay us a visit in Staffordshire, and there pass with us a few weeks ?” “ Most sincerely do I support Mr. Tremaine’s request,” said Mrs. Tremaine, now rising from her seat and warmly pressing my hand. “And I, my dear Ellen,” added Charlotte, “hope that you will afford me this additional proof of friendship ?” I assured my new friends that an invitation which was so warmly given did not require an in- stant’s deliberation in respect to the answer tuat was to be returned; and we parted, with the understanding that Charlotte was to write to me in the course of a few days and name the time when I was to proceed into Staffordshire,—I on my side holding myself bound to obey the sum- mons, provided no unforeseen incident of import- ance should in the meanwhile arise to prevent me, On leaving South Street, I returned to my own aboce, as my dinner was waiting for me: but slight was the inclination that I experienced for food, as my mind had been considerably harassed by the scenes which I have been describing. At about eight o’clock I repaired to the Marquis of Campanella’s mansion, The Marquis and Mar- chioness received me with the warmest demon- strations of friendship; and they gave me the assurance that my visit in the afternoon had worked a considerable change in the mood and humour of Beatrice—for that though she had not become absolutely cheerful, she had at least dis- played a more healthy temperament since my in- tervention was invoked. She had dined with them ~——she had remained in their society until within a few minutes of my arrival—and she had only re- tired to another apartment, in the expectation of my coming, as she wished to see me alone. I accordingly proceeded to the room where Beatrice thus awaited me: and as I entered, she exclaimed, “Oh, Ellen! after everything that has occurred, can you thus continue to befriend me P” “'There are certainly, my dear Beatrice,” I an- awered, “many points in your conduct during the last few weeks, which have greatly distressed me —and which, I do not hesitate to add, gave a shock to the strength of those friendly feelings that I had experienced towards you. But you lave been so severely punished sf “Ah!.if by being thus chastened, I have re- gained your friendship, Ellen,’ interrupted Bea- txice, with an unmistakable depth of sincerity, “T shall not regret no, I shall rather rejoice that [ have been so punished! And now, sit down, and let us converse more at length upon those matters which were too painful to be deeply probed when you were here in the afternoon.” “ Rest assured, Beatrice,” I responded, “ that my feelings shall be the same towards you as ever, if I find that you yourself are changed and altered in those respects where such amelioration is desirable. And now tell me whatsoever you may choose to communicate.” “You know, Ellen,” resumed the Countess of Carboni, “that about ten days ago I left London with the intention of becoming the wife of Ludo- ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, ’ vico Marano. We were to meet in Calis, where our hands were to be joined in marriage by the priest, according to the Catholic rites. I devised some tale to account with my sister and brother- in-law for my desire to leave England: I feignod a wish to proceed to Paris. I know not how it was, but I dared not tell them that I intended to marry Ludovico Marano. Perhaps it was that there was something in my conscience which told me I was doing wrong to reward with love a vin- dictiveness so fearful as that which he had wreaked on the miserable Luigi :—or perhaps it was that I dreaded being questioned too closely on the sub- ject, and that your remonstrances had touched me somewhat. However, certain it is that I resolved to maintain the secret for the present, and write the intelligence of my marriage after it should have been accomplished. My sister and the Mar. quis accompanied me as far as Dover, and thence 1 proceeded to Calais. There I took up my quar- ters at one hotel—Ludovico being at another, A few days passed, during which the necessary arrangements were being made for the bridal ceremony; and I, infatuated creature that I was! persuaded myself that I loved Ludovico as much as I had ever loved his cousin Angelo. One day he came to me; and I saw by his countenance that something was wrong. I soon learnt the truth, He confessed that he had some time ago loved another—that he had just met this other— that his former passion was suddenly revived— and that he now found that he was about to com- mit a deplorable error in respect to myself. In- dignant words burst from my lips—a scene ensued, with the details of which I will not weary your patience, Ellen and we separated.” “Did you tell him you should return to London or proceed to Paris!’ I asked. “ Ah! now I recollect, I said something about proceeding to Paris. It was in my mingled rage and grief—I spoke of burying myself in a convent But why do you put the question, Ellen P” “‘] have a reason,” L returned: “I will explain it presently, Continue, Beatrice.” “{ have nothing more to add,” said the Coun. tess,“ except that I returned to London, utterly broken-hearted, as I fancied, with mingled shame and rage, wounded pride and fierce vindictive- ness |’ “Ok, do not—do not always talk of revenge, Beatrice!’ I exclaimed. “This is the point on which I chiefly wish you to curb your emotions and command your passions! There is a certain ex- tent to which vengeance may always reach, because if is a natural feeling and cannot be altogether controlled. But when it passes just limits i “Ah! why did I not always listen to your” ex- claimed the Countess, “So long as I regarded you as my guide, and followed your counsel, I al- ways found myself in a straightforward path! Henceforth I will continue to be led by you Oh, believe moe, Ellen, I will!” ‘“‘ Now you are speaking as I like to hear you speak,” I said: “and I shall enter with all the more confidence upon that which I have to communi- cate,” “You have something to tell me, then?” eja- culated the Countess, with an unavoidable display of nervous suspense. Without specially noticing it, I went on to say Gomicbook (E)