Chapter XXXIV
I attempt to profit by intelligence I receive, and throw a lady into hysterics.
In about three hours I had narrated the history of my life, up to the very day, almost as much detailed as it has been to the reader. "And now, Mr Masterton," said I, as I wound up my narrative, "do you think that I deserve the title of rogue, which you applied to me when I came in?"
"Upon my word, Mr Newland, I hardly know what to say; but I like to tell the truth. To say that you have been quite honest, would not be correct—a rogue, to a certain degree, you have been, but you have been the rogue of circumstances. I can only say this, that there are greater rogues than you, whose characters are unblemished in the world—that most people in your peculiar situation would have been much greater rogues; and lastly, that rogue or not rogue, I have great pleasure in taking you by the hand, and will do all I possibly can to serve you—and that for your own sake. Your search after your parents I consider almost tantamount to a wild-goose chase; but still, as your happiness depends upon it, I suppose it must be carried on; but you must allow me time for reflection. I will consider what may be the most judicious method of proceeding. Can you dine tête-à-tête with me here on Friday, and we then will talk over the matter?"
"On Friday, sir; I am afraid that I am engaged to Lady Maelstrom; but that is of no consequence—I will write an excuse to her ladyship."
"Lady Maelstrom! how very odd that you should bring up her name after our conversation."
"Why so, my dear sir?"
"Why!" replied Mr Masterton, chuckling; "because—recollect, it is a secret, Mr Newland—I remember some twenty years ago, when she was a girl of eighteen, before she married, she had a little faux pas, and I was called in about a settlement, for the maintenance of the child."
"Is it possible, sir?" replied I, anxiously.
"Yes, she was violently attached to a young officer, without money, but of good family; some say it was a private marriage, others, that he was—a rascal. It was all hushed up, but he was obliged by the friends, before he left for the West Indies, to sign a deed of maintenance, and I was the party called in. I never heard any more about it. The officer's name was Warrender; he died of the yellow fever, I believe, and after his death she married Lord Maelstrom."
"He is dead, then?" replied I mournfully.
"Well, that cannot affect you, my good fellow. On Friday, then, at six o'clock precisely. Good afternoon, Mr Newland."
I shook hands with the old gentleman, and returned home, but my brain whirled with the fear of a confirmation, of that which Mr Masterton had so carelessly conveyed. Anything like a possibility, immediately was swelled to a certainty in my imagination, so ardent and heated on the one subject; and as soon as I regained my room, I threw myself on the sofa, and fell into a deep reverie. I tried to approximate the features of Lady Maelstrom to mine, but all the ingenuity in the world could not effect that; but still, I might be like my father—but my father was dead, and that threw a chill over the whole glowing picture which I had, as usual, conjured up; besides, it was asserted that I was born in wedlock, and there was a doubt relative to the marriage of her ladyship.
After a long cogitation I jumped up, seized my hat, and set off for Grosvenor Square, determining to ask a private interview with her ladyship, and at once end my harassing doubts and surmises. I think there could not be a greater proof of my madness than my venturing to attack a lady of forty upon the irregularities of her youth, and to question her upon a subject which had been confided but to two or three, and she imagined had been long forgotten: but this never struck me; all considerations were levelled in my ardent pursuit. I walked through the streets at a rapid pace, the crowd passed by me as shadows, I neither saw nor distinguished them; I was deep in reverie as to the best way of breaking the subject to her ladyship, for, notwithstanding my monomania, I perceived it to be a point of great delicacy. After having overturned about twenty people in my mad career, I arrived at the door and knocked. My heart beat almost as hard against my ribs with excitement.
"Is her ladyship at home?"
"Yes, sir."
I was ushered into the drawing-room, and found her sitting with two of her nieces, the Misses Fairfax.
"Mr Newland, you have been quite a stranger," said her ladyship, as I walked up to her and made my obeisance. "I did intend to scold you well; but I suppose that sad affair of poor Major Carbonnell's has been a heavy blow to you—you were so intimate—lived together, I believe, did you not? However, you have not so much cause to regret, for he was not a very proper companion for young men like you: to tell you the truth, I consider it as a fortunate circumstance that he was removed, for he would, by degrees, have led you into all manner of mischief, and have persuaded you to squander your fortune. I did at one time think of giving you a hint, but it was a delicate point. Now that he is gone, I tell you very candidly that you have had an escape. A young man like you, Mr Newland, who could command an alliance into the highest, yes, the very highest families—and let me tell you, Mr Newland, that there is nothing like connection—money is of no consequence to you, but connection, Mr Newland, is what you should look for—connection with some high family, and then you will do well. I should like to see you settled—well settled, I mean, Mr Newland. Now that you are rid of the Major, who has ruined many young men in his time, I trust you will seriously think of settling down into a married man. Cecilia, my dear, show your tambour work to Mr Newland, and ask him his opinion. Is it not beautiful, Mr Newland?"
"Extremely beautiful, indeed, ma'am," replied I, glad at last that her ladyship allowed me to speak a word.
"Emma, my dear, you look pale, you must go out into the air. Go, children, put your bonnets on and take a turn in the garden, when the carriage comes round I will send for you."
The young ladies quitted the room. "Nice innocent girls, Mr Newland; but you are not partial to blondes, I believe?"
"Indeed, Lady Maelstrom, I infinitely prefer the blonde to the brunette."
"That proves your taste, Mr Newland. The Fairfaxes are of a very old family—Saxon, Mr Newland. Fair-fax is Saxon for light hair. Is it not remarkable that they should be blondes to this day? Pure blood, Mr Newland. You, of course, have heard of General Fairfax, in the time of Cromwell. He was their direct ancestor—an excellent family and highly connected, Mr Newland. You are aware that they are my nieces. My sister married Mr Fairfax."
I paid the Misses Fairfax the compliments which I thought they really deserved, for they were very pretty amiable girls, and required no puffing on the part of her ladyship; and then I commenced. "Your ladyship has expressed such kind wishes towards me, that I cannot be sufficiently grateful, but, perhaps, your ladyship may think me romantic, I am resolved never to marry, except for love."
"A very excellent resolve, Mr Newland; there are few young men who care about love now-a-days, but I consider that love is a great security for happiness in the wedded state."
"True, madam, and what can be more delightful than a first attachment? I appeal to your ladyship, was not your first attachment the most delightful—are not the reminiscences most lasting—do you not, even now, call to mind those halcyon days when love was all and every thing?"
"My days of romance are long past, Mr Newland," replied her ladyship; "indeed I never had much romance in my composition. I married Lord Maelstrom for the connection, and I loved him pretty well, that is, soberly, Mr Newland. I mean, I loved him quite enough to marry him, and to obey my parents, that is all."
"But, my dear Lady Maelstrom, I did not refer to your marriage with his lordship; I referred to your first love."
"My first love, Mr Newland; pray what do you mean?" replied her ladyship, looking very hard at me.
"Your ladyship need not be ashamed of it. Our hearts are not in our own keeping, nor can we always control our passions. I have but to mention the name of Warrender."
"Warrender!" shrieked her ladyship. "Pray, Mr Newland," continued her ladyship, recovering herself, "who gave you that piece of information?"
"My dear Lady Maelstrom, pray do not be displeased with me, but I am very particularly interested in this affair. Your love for Mr Warrender, long before your marriage, is well known to me; and it is to that love, to which I referred, when I asked you if it was not most delightful."
"Well, Mr Newland," replied her ladyship, "how you have obtained the knowledge I know not, but there was, I acknowledge, a trifling flirtation with Edward Warrender and me—but I was young, very young at that time."
"I grant it, and do not, for a moment, imagine that I intend to blame your ladyship; but, as I before said, madam, I am much interested in the business."
"What interest you can have with a little flirtation of mine, which took place before you were born, I cannot imagine, Mr Newland."
"It is because it took place before I was born, that I feel so much interest."
"I cannnot understand you, Mr Newland, and I think we had better change the subject."
"Excuse me, madam, but I must request to continue it a little longer. Is Mr Warrender dead, or not? Did he die in the West Indies?"
"You appear to be very curious on this subject, Mr Newland; I hardly can tell. Yes, now I recollect, he did die of the yellow fever, I think—but I have quite forgotten all about it—and I shall answer no more questions; if you were not a favourite of mine, Mr Newland, I should say that you were very impertinent."
"Then, your ladyship, I will put but one more question, and that one I must put, with your permission."
"I should think, after what I have said, Mr Newland, that you might drop the subject."
"I will, your ladyship, immediately; but, pardon me, the question—"
"Well, Mr Newland—?"
"Do not be angry with me—"
"Well?" exclaimed her ladyship, who appeared alarmed.
"Nothing but the most important and imperative reasons could induce me to ask the question" (her ladyship gasped for breath, and could not speak), I stammered, but at last I brought it out. "What has become of—of—of the sweet pledge of your love, Lady Maelstrom?"
Her ladyship coloured up with rage, raised up her clenched hand, and then fell back in violent hysterics.