Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 362: what you’re looking at

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

| | | EEE EE EE —————_————e ——— -- — — ‘ ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. shock when the intelligence of his death was first communicated to her; but she quickly rallied— and she said that it would be a miserable affectation on her part if she were to seem ta, grieve another miuute for one whom she had ceased to love, and had learnt to despise and almost to hate, from the very instant when she had first discovered that he was so utterly unworthy of her affection. It was in the afternoon of the same day of which I have been writing, that I again found myself alone with Sarah Barron in her chamber. She was no worse since the surgeon had made his report in the morning—but on the other side, she was no better. She might sink or she might rally: her fate was at present scarcely within the range of prophecy; for if on the one hand the old adage applied, “ that where there was life there was hope,” yet on the other hand it was impos- sible to blind oneself to the fact that a straw thrown in the scale would turn it completely to her disadvantage. Her mother and brother had been sent for; and the medical man had recom- mended that her mind should be kept as tranquil 2s possible. I-was again alone, I say, with Sarah Barron. T sat down by the side of her couch; she took my hand—she looked plaintively into my face—she beeought me “to grant her one more favour, in addition to the many boons she had already re- ceived from me.” These were her own words; and I hastened to reply, “ Rest assured, my dear Sarah, that if with propriety I can grant your request, it shall not be made in vain.” “ Ah, my dear Ellen,” she murmured, “ there is ® qualification in your answer! I know not whether you will consider my request to be fraught with impropriety; but alas! I fear that most pro- bably you will do so! Sonomore upon the point! And yet,” she added bitterly, “it were hard to die—my God!it were hard to die and to leave those bones——” “Sarah!” I interrupted her “I comprehend what you mean! Yes!—now I understand you! Your request shall be granted.” A gleam of ineffable joy and gratitude over- spread the poor young woman’s countenance: she took my hand and pressed it to her lips. It was some time before she could speak; and at length she said, “If I die, Ellen, it will be in blessing your name! and if I live it will be to cherish the holiest sense of gratitude for all your goodness to- wards me. And Oh!” she added, “if anything can save my life, it is not the surgeon’s skill, but it is the infusion of a balm into the gaping wounds of my heart! And this office of the ministering angel you are performing towards me !” “Say no more, my dear Sarah,” I replied. “During the coming night everything shall be done according as I may best interpret the wishes which I suppose to be floating in your mind.” And behold! during the night which followed, Beda and I again paid a visit to the haunted room. Upon this occasion Mrs. Tremaine and Charlotte were in total ignorance of our design: Sarah Barron only was acquainted with it. It was verging towards midnight when my faithful young dependant and myself stole into that chamber. It was not a pleasant task which I had undertaken to perform; but it was nevertheless with a mourn- ‘ul willingness that I entered upon it, because I ee ee 349 knew that its fulfilment would infuse consolation into the soul of an afflicted fellow-creature. Beda and I raised the boards in the cupboard, and we collected a few particles of tiny infant bones; there were alsu the remnants of some garments in which the infant had been wrapped. We had brought with us a small box to receive these re- mains; and on leaving the haunted chamber, we stole down into the library. Thence we passed out into the garden; and choosing a secluded spot, we buried the box inthe earth. It was under the shade of some lilac-trees now withered beneath the cold hand of winter, that we interred those re- mains; and on the following morning, when I de- scribed to Sarah Barron exactly what we had done, she wept softly and plenteously as she gave mutr- muring expression to the thought that the flowers would in the spring-time bloom over the spot where those relics lay buried. In consequence of the exciting events which had occurred in reference to Ludovico Marano, I had not hitherto been enabled to carry out an idea which I had formed: namely, to speak to Mr. Tremaine in reference to the Wakefield family. But now [I found leisure so to do; and in com- plance with a hint I gave him to the effect that I wished to have some little discourse with him, he conducted me to an apartment where we were alone together. “TI believe, Mr. Tremaine,” I said, “ that the name which I am about to mention has been so unpleasantly mixed up with the traditions of your family, that it will not prove pleasant to your ears.” “You must either allude to the name of Ravens- cliffe or Wakefield, my dear Ellen,” answered Mr. Tremaine; “and if you havo a special purpose in mentioning either, I am sure that it can only be a good one; and therefore will I endeavour to con- quer all prejudice on the point.” “Tt is the name of Wakefield,” I answered. “‘A name that was once a proud and a great one in the Midland Counties,’’ replied Mr. Tre- maine. “ Proceed, Ellen.” “ An aunt of mine married a Mr. Wakefield,” F continued; “and something has recently come to my knowledge which renders it of the utmost im- portance that I should obtain all possible informa- tion in respect to one particular point: that is to say, whether my deceased uncle Mr. Wakefield was a descendant of the great Warwickshire family.” “T hed long believed the Wakefields to be ex. tinct,” answered Mr. Tremaine; “but even if it should prove otherwise, their claims could not pos- sibly injure me. The quarrels between the Tre- maines and the Wakefields were long ago settled in the Chancery Court. If there be any renewal of litigation, it must be between the Wakefields and the Ravenscliffes. Now, my dear Ellen, I am totally unable to afford any information towards the solution of the query which you have put to me ; and indeed, I scarcely see how you are to ob- tain it, unless at a great expense and by searching parish registers for asa matter of course you have failed at the very point where you must have set off-—”’ “T have as yet failed in nothing, my dear sir,” I answered; “for the simple reason that I have attempted nothing,” (€(0) KS (G(0)