Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 51: what you’re looking at

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38 ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, we proceeded in that direction, I was going to | of yourself and your assistants in the observance order a mourning ring to forward to Zarah’s con- of implicit silence with regard to this scene!” fidential maid, as an acknowledgment of the The Duchess of Ardleigh, who was perfectly attention she had displayed towards myself in | calm and collected, though her countenance indi- the recent unfortunate occurrences. reached the jeweller’s shop: but just as we entered it whom should I at the first glance recognise standing at the counter making purchases, but the Duke and Duchess of Ardleigh ? “My uncle! my dear uncle!” ejaculated Mary: and with a cry of joy she precipitated herself to- wards that titled nobleman whom she believed to be plain Mr. Glentworth. The Duke caught her in his arms; for he was discomfited and bewildered—he was seized with confusion—he knew not how to act. At that very instant the assistant who was serving behind the counter, was addressing some observation to the Duke, whom he of course styled “ My Lord” and “Your Grace ;”—and not more bewildered with confusion was the nobleman himself, than Mary suddenly became with amazement on hearing her supposed uncle thus spoken to with those lofty sounding titles. At once perceiving the necessity of avoiding a scene in the shop, which might lead to unpleasant revelations and exposures before the assistants who were serving there, I caught Mary somewhat violently by the arm,—drew her hastily aside — and whispered, “ For heaven’s sake be composed! —say nothing!—I will tell you all presently !” Mary gazed upon me for a moment with a species of consternation, as if utterly at a loss what to think:—then abruptly turning to an assistant who was serving on that side of the shop to which I had led her across, she demanded, “ Who is that gentleman ?” There was something so positive if not abso- lutely imperious in her tone, that the assistant, taken by surprise—in fact at a loss to comprehend the entire scene or to think how he himself had better act—at once answered, “ That, Miss—that is a great nobleman—the Duke of Ardleigh.” -Mary Glentworth turned deadly pale, staggered back a pace or two—and was about to sink upon the floor when I caught her in my arms. Con- sciousness had abandoned her; and one of the assistants, rushing into the adjoining parlour, re- turned with some water, which LI hastened to sprinkle upon the poor girl’s face. “ Good heavens!” said the Duke, rushing about the shop like one demented, “what a scene! what a coincidence! Here’s a pretty business! I wish Peaseblossom was present > “Gilence, my lord!” said the voice of the Duchess, speaking in that habitual tone of com- mand which at once operated like magic upon her husband. “We will retire to the carriage immediately. Miss Trafford, let me see you and Miss Glentworth at Ardleigh House in one hour from this time. You can tell her what you think fit in the meanwhile,’ she added, bending down towards me so as to whisper these last words in my ears. The proprietor of the establishment and his wife now came hastening into the shop to render assistance or offer their services; and the Duchess hastily said, “ Mrs. Brooks, have the kindness to let this young lady be borne into your sitting- room. Mr, Brooks, I reckon upon the discretion eee wae eeeeeEee——— EEE —eEE mm OO LLL LE Mary and I | cated mingled anger and mortification, issued her various directions and injunctions with the com- pletest self-possession. She then made an im- perious sign for her husband to follow her, and they went forth from the establishment. The carriage—which had proceeded a little way along the street in order to turn the more conveniently, and which therefore was not at the door when Mary Glentworth and I reached the establish- ment—had drawn up while the scene was taking place in the shop. The Duke and Duchess entered the vehicle, and the equipage drove away. Mrs, Brooks, the jewe er’s wife, assisted me to convey Mary Glentworth to a chamber up-stairs: but nearly a quarter of an hour elapsed before the poor girl could be brought back to complete con. sciousness. As she began to recover I requested Mrs. Brooks to leave us alone together; and she at once retired. Mary Glentworth threw herself into my arms and wept passionately on my bosom. For several minutes she was unable to give utter- ance to a word: she was convulsed with sobs; and I felt only too painfully convinced that the scene in the shop below had smitten her soul with some suspicion, if not with a full knowledge of the real truth. “Ellen, dearest Ellen!” she at length murmur- ingly faltered; “I always knew there was some mystery at least for along time I have fancied it———I thought there was something with which you were acquainted, but which you were hiding from me rs | “Do not excite yourself, Mary !—compose your feelings!” I said; “and let us converse tran- quilly.” “Ah! then you do not deny it?” she exclaimed with another passionate ebullition of grief; “and I—and I am compelled But tell me, Ellen, I adjure you!” she abruptly demanded: “in what relation does the Duke of Ardleigh stand towards me ?” “‘ Mary,” I answered, much excited and affected, “T see that you already know it or at least the suspicion has entered your mind——it is therefore useless to trifle with the matter. The Duke of Ardleigh is—is—your father !” I saw that Mary Glentworth was shaken as if by a cold tremor suddenly passing through her entire frame; and for upwards of a minute she remained altogether silent. At first she gazed fixedly upon me with a strange vacant look: then her regards gradually sank—and as her eyes were bent downward, the tears started forth anew, the big drops rolling upon her palecheeks. Yes !—for those cheeks which were wont to bloom with the carnation hues of health, were now of dead pallor. “The Duke of Ardleigh my father!” she at length said in a musing tone and in a low voice: “the Duke of Ardleigh my father! Then what can I now think? Alas, alas! the reputation of that mother whose memory I sought to revere as that of one deserving all veneration But oh! I cannot think of it! Alas, my poor mother! you must have been cruelly betrayed——and I am almost called upon to hate the author of my being for having so betrayed you!” Go 0)(0\0) (C (E(@)