Joseph Wilmot, or, The Memoirs of a Man-Servant — page 188: what you’re looking at

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a ———— JOSEPH WILMOT; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF A MAN-SERVANT. while I was guilty of such base and flagrant per- | fidy towards her. But I dared not think of her; I dared not review my past misconduct. Again adopting the simile of the individual who regains the senses which have been rendered mad by in- toxication, I called to my aid a sort of desperate recklessness,—accepting what was done as some- thing that could not be recalled—resolving to surrender myself up to what I conceived my des- tiny, as a man in his despair surrenders his soul to Satan. After lingering in the lane for about twenty minutes, I hurried back to the villa,—putting the image of Annabel as far away from my thoughts as possible, and fixing my reflections on the beauty, the words, and the caresses of Calanthe. For the remainder of that day I felt as if under the influence of a strong liquor which excited and bewildered the brain, without actually intoxicating, much less stupifying it: and my fellow-seryants wondered to see me so elate and happy as they fancied I was. In the evening Mr. Franklin called as usual: but Calanthe kept her own chamber on the plea of headache—as I gathered from what I overheard the lady’s-maid say to the cook. On the evening of the following day Mr. Franklin called again; and this time Calanthe was compelled to make her usual appearance in the drawing-room: but when I went thither for some purpose, I at once saw that she was seated near Mrs. Robinson on the sofa, while Richard Franklin, who looked vexed and uneasy, was placed at a distance. On the evening next after that, he called again; and on this occasion, when I went up to the drawing- room, I heard Calanthe speaking to him in so cold —indeed glacial a manner, that it ought to have convinced him he was perfectly indifferent to her. On the following day he called at about noon, and was for nearly an hour with Mrs. Robinson alone in the drawing-room. Then Calanthe was sent for from the apartment where she was wont to instruct _the children; and Mrs. Robinson left her with My. Franklin. A quarter of an hour afterwards he quitted the house in a hurried manner. I con- jectured all that had passed; and in the course of the evening, Calanthe managed to slip a billet into my hand. I sought an immediate opportunity of reading its contents. They were to the effect that Richard Franklin had obtained an interview with Mrs. Robinson, to inform her that he was desirous, with her permission, to make an offer of his hand to Calanthe—that the lady had afforded him the opportunity—and that Calanthe, while thanking him for the flattermg compliment he thus paid her, begged to decline the honour. This incident tended to rivet the chains which Calanthe’s fasci- nations had flung around me: and more than ever did I strive to subdue and crush the remorse that was in my soul on Annabel’s account. CITAPTER XXXVII. INFATUATION AND ITS RESULTS. Ir appeared as if my good genius had altogether ' deserted me, and that circumstances were destined so to combine themselves as to render me the victim of this infatuation to which I had yielded. re ne ee oe Oe P For the yery next day after Richard Franklin’s proposal and rejection, Mrs. Robinson received a letter from her solicitor in London,—informing her that her presence was required in the metropolis, in connexion with certain affairs of her late hus- band’s, which had only just been wound up. She hated trouble: she moreover disliked the idea of travelling in the depth of winter—for it was now verging towards Christmas; and it was therefore a source of much annoyance to her that she should have to leaye her comfortable home in the Isle of Wight. It was howeyer absolutely necessary to undertake the journey: but she decided upon leaving the children behind her, having every con- fidence in Miss Palmer’s prudence and discretion. The lady’s-maid was to accompany her; and ac- cordingly, the day after the receipt of the letter she took her departure. Frequent opportunities were now easily obtained for Calanthe to snatch stolen interviews with me, and without exciting the slightest suspicion on the part of the servants who remained behind, as well as without the least risk. A word I have already used in this chapter, most properly represents the state of my feelings: it was a positive infatuation. With the desperate recklessness of a man who having taken one false step, plunges madly on in the career to which it leads, I abandoned myself to that passion: or, to borrow another similitude from actual life, like the man who haying passed the boundary of temperance, recklessly swallows glass after glass, did I yield myseif up to the intoxicating influence of Calanthe’s charms. We snatched half-hours in the drawing-room at dif- ferent times of the day: the oftener we thus met, the more did we seem to feel the necessity for meeting again,—until at length we sought each other after the period for retiring to rest. But still we behaved with so much caution, that our proceedings were utterly unsuspected. The ab- sence of Mrs. Robinson was prolonged by various circumstances for an entire month. She occasionally wrote to Calanthe, telling her that fresh delays had arisen in the settlement of her affairs; and that being once in London, she should remain there until they were brought to a complete termi- nation. Thus, for four whole weeks were we enabled to snatch these opportunities of being together. And now I come to the most painful part of this episode in my life: for Calanthe loved with all the glow of a fervid temperament—I was a prey to an inebriating infatuation—and those frequent inter- views did not long continue innocent ! Mrs. Robinson returned, haying satisfactorily settled her affairs. We were once more compelled to be on our guard, and to relapse almost com- pletely into that mode of life which we had adopted previous to her journey. The exchange of glances —occasionally of billets—was the extent of the risks we ran; and now it was that I began to awaken from the dream of impassioned infatuation in which I had been plunged. Day by day, and hour by hour, did my feeling in favour of Calanthe wear off, while that which I experienced towards Annabel regained strength. By night I wept bit- terest tears, whenI reflected on what I had done: I implored heaven to forgive me—I invoked the image of Annabel to smile forgiveness also! My contrition was most sincere: never did anchorite lacerate his body with more torturing stripes, than GOMIGHDOOo SS (C (0)