Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 244: what you’re looking at

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

ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. “Now, Beatrice, if I tell you that in respect to Ludovico Marano you are already sufficiently avenged, will you promise me that there shall be no gloating over this vengeance—no morbid crav- ing for the infliction of a greater amount of chas- tisement ?” “T promise you, Ellen,” she answered, “ that the excellence of your advice and the genial influ- ence of your example shall not be lost upon me:” —then, after a pause, which was evidently meant to convince me that she was striving to discipline her feelings as much as possible, she said in a voice which was only slightly tremulous, “But am I really to understand that Ludovico Marano is already punished for his conduct towards me? If this be the case, whence does the chastisement come? and whose hand has dealt it P” I proceeded to explain to Beatrice that it was only on the previous day I had fallen in with Miss Tremaine—that I heard she was engaged to be married to an Italian gentleman—but that it was only in the afternoon of this particular day, after my visit to Beatrice, I had discovered who the Italian was. I frankly informed her that I had explained a-sufliciency of his vindictive con- duct in respect to Luigi, to set Charlotte and her parents completely against Ludovico Marano, and that the engagement was broken off :—but I as- sured the Countess that I had carefully abstained from compromising her name in reference to those special transactions. JI saw that her form quivered with.a certain degree of satisfaction as I went on spegking: I saw by the heaving of her bosom, the dilation of her eyes, and the quickness with which her breath came, that the serpent of vindictiveness was lifting up its head in her heart:—but on the other hand, I saw that she was exerting almost preterhuman efforts in order to crush the reptile beneath the heel of her own strong will. I argued favourably instead of un- favourably from all these signs—because I knew that human nature cannot conquer its thoughts or amend its failings in a single moment, and that the effort to do so is the strongest indication of even- tual success. “‘ And now, Beatrice,” I said, “ you understand why I just now inquired whether at your last in- terview with the Italian in Calais, you informed him of your intention to proceed to Paris? For when I first met him this evening in South Street, he hada certain air of assurance: he evidently thought that you were indeed far away from London—he suspected not that I had seen you— it was far from entering his mind that I could possibly be aware how he had duped and deceived you. He certainly trembled and felt uncomfort- able at my presence in the midst of the Tremaine family—because he feared lest I should tell the tale of his proceedings in respect to Luigi, or that I might even have said something in reference to his recently contemplated marriage with you: but still he evidently hugged the hope that if he could not altogether cajoie me into silence, he should at least be enabled to make some counter: statement that would avail with the loving Char. lotte. But when he heard that you were in Lon- don, and that I had seen you, he grew more and more uneasy and then came the catastrophe, as I have already explained it.” I remained in conversation with Beatrice until 231 past ten o’clock, when my carriage came to fetch me; and [I returned to Great Ormond Street, leaving the Countess of Carboni in a frame of mind which gave me every hope that the happi- ness of her future years might yet be ensured. On the following day, at about noon, I received a visit from my friend Mrs. Gower, whom perhaps the reader will better remember as Aline Marcy. Six months had elapsed since she became the wife of Major Gower; and during this interval they had chiefly resided at their country-seat; but I had seen them on three or four occasions when they visited London. On this present occasion they had arrived in the metropolis on the preced- ing day ; and Aline, as the reader may observe, had lost no time in affording me a fresh proof of her friendship. She was looking more beautiful, if possible, than ever; and she spoke in modest yet fervent terms of the tender love which her husband displayed towards her. He would have accompanied her on this visit to Great Ormond Street, but the business which had brought him to London, detained him at the Horse Guards ; for he was making arrangements to obtain his Lieutenant-Coloneley. Aline inquired most affec- tionately after her friend Mary Glentworth ; and T informed her that she was staying with Lady Frederick Ravenscliffe near Dover, where I had left her three days back. After having chatted for some little while on various subjects, I said, “And how is your amiable friend Lady Kelvedon P” A shade came over Aline’s beautiful counte- nance, as she replied, “Alas! Hermione’s health has been lately declining Fr “Good heavens!” I ejaculated, as a fearful sus- picion smote me at the very instant. ‘Her lady- ship’s health is declining ?” ** Yes—for the last six weeks,” rejoined Aline. “Six weeks?” I mechanically repeated, now struck by the thought that if what I surmised should be true, this period was almost sufficient to carry the unfortunate victim to the very verge of the grave. “Andwhere is she? Doubtless at Kelvedon Hall ?” “ Yes,” replied Aline: “she has been there for the last four or five months.” “T saw her,” I rejoined, “ in Eaton Square just before she was returning with her husband to the Hall: but I did not know whether they might not have since revisited the metropolis.” “* No—not once,” answered Aline. “TI pro- posed to the Major to go and visit the Hall—I wrote to Hermione to that effect: but she deli- cately represented to me that her husband is so eccentric and peculiar—loving an almost total se- clusion s * And—and,” I asked, “do you happen to know, Aline, where the nephew, Mr. Collingwood, is at the present time P” “ No,” replied Aline : “ but I dare say he is an occasional visitor to Kelvedon Hall, as usual. Had you any particular motive for asking tho question ¢- “Tell me something more,” I interrupted Aline, “about poor Lady Kelvedon! I am quite con- cerned on her behalf! Doubtless in her letters, Aline, she has explained her feelings and sensa- tions P—because it seems so strange that a young lady at her time of life—not yet four and twenty (COMMU JOO (E@)