"Why, the rascal is gone off, and left his wife without a farthing, to maintain herself as she can."
"Is she in London?" cried I, turning very faint.
"No, at Dover; but, as soon as it is known that he is off, I expect to be arrested for the money; and for me to raise it is impossible; but you, Helen—"
"Yes, yes—I understand you," I replied, speaking with great difficulty: "the legacy—I will drive instantly to the bankers—and take it, take it all, if you wish."
Here my voice and even my eye-sight totally failed me, and almost my intellects; but I neither fell nor fainted.—Miserable suspicions and certain anxiety came over me, and in one moment life seemed converted into a dreary void. My situation alarmed Pendarves almost to phrensy. He rung for the servants, sent for the nearest surgeon, without my being able to oppose any thing he ordered—for I could not speak: and I was carried to my room, and even bled, before I had the power of uttering a word.
"The lady has undergone a violent shock," said the surgeon; and the conscience-stricken Seymour ran out of the room in an agony too mighty for expression.
I was now forced to swallow some strong nervous medicine; and at length, feeling myself able to speak again, I ejaculated "Thank God!" and fell into a passion of tears, which considerably relieved me.
My kind but officious maid had meanwhile sent for Mrs. Pendarves, who eagerly demanded the original cause of my seizure.
"Dearest Helen, do you tell your aunt," said Seymour, "how it was."
"I had been fretting for two days," I replied, "on account of my mother's silence; and while I was talking to Seymour, this violent hysterical seizure came over me. Indeed, I had experienced all the morning, my love, previous to your coming in, a most unusual depression." This statement, though true, was I own deceptive; but I could not tell all the truth without exposing my husband.—Oh! how fondly did his eyes thank me! My aunt was satisfied; she insisted on sitting by my bedside while I slept,—for an anodyne was given me,—and I consented to receive her offered kindness. Nay, I must own that, in the conscious desolation of my heart at that moment, I felt strangely soothed by expressions of kindness, and was covetous of those endearments from her which before I had wished to avoid. But my hand now returned and courted the affectionate pressure of hers; and I seemed to cling to her as a friend who, if she knew all, would have sorrowed over me like a mother; and while sleep was consciously stealing over me, I was pleased to know that she was watching beside my pillow.