There was something in the tone, but more in the tenor of this address that startled her. There was nothing in this man but what came upon her unaware. This sudden effusion of confidence was particularly unexpected and embarrassing. She scarcely knew whether to regard it as serious or a jest. On observing her indisposed to speak, he continued:—
"Away with these impertinent circuities and scruples. I know your meaning. Why should I pretend ignorance, and put you to the trouble of explanation? You came hither with no other view than to exact this question, and furnish an answer. Why should not we come at once to the point? I have for some time been dubious on this head. There is something wanting to determine the balance. If you have that something, throw it into the proper scale.
"You err if you think this manner of addressing you is wild or improper. This girl is the subject of discourse. If she was not to be so, why did you favour me with this visit? You have sought me, and introduced yourself. I have, in like manner, overlooked ordinary forms,—a negligence that has been systematic with me, but, in the present case, particularly justifiable by your example. Shame upon you, presumptuous girl, to suppose yourself the only rational being among mankind. And yet, if you thought so, why did you thus unceremoniously intrude upon my retirements? This act is of a piece with the rest. It shows you to be one whose existence I did not believe possible.
"Take care. You know not what you have done. You came hither as Helena's friend. Perhaps time may show that in this visit you have performed the behest of her bitterest enemy. But that is out of season. This girl is our mutual property. You are her friend; I am her lover. Her happiness is precious in my eyes and in yours. To the rest of mankind she is a noisome weed that cannot be shunned too cautiously, nor trampled on too much. If we forsake her, infamy, that is now kept at bay, will seize upon her, and, while it mangles her form, will tear from her her innocence. She has no arms with which to contend against that foe. Marriage will place her at once in security. Shall it be? You have an exact knowledge of her strength and her weakness. Of me you know little. Perhaps, before that question can be satisfactorily answered, it is requisite to know the qualities of her husband. Be my character henceforth the subject of your study. I will furnish you with all the light in my power. Be not hasty in deciding; but, when your decision is formed, let me know it." He waited for an answer, which she, at length, summoned resolution enough to give:—
"You have come to the chief point which I had in view in making this visit. To say truth, I came hither to remonstrate with you on withholding that which Helena may justly claim from you. Her happiness will be unquestionably restored, and increased by it. Yours will not be impaired. Matrimony will not produce any essential change in your situation. It will produce no greater or different intercourse than now exists. Helena is on the brink of a gulf which I shudder to look upon. I believe that you will not injure yourself by snatching her from it. I am sure that you will confer an inexpressible benefit upon her. Let me then persuade you to do her and yourself justice."
"No persuasion," said Ormond, after recovering from a fit of thoughtfulness, "is needful for this end: I only want to be convinced. You have decided, but, I fear hastily. By what inscrutable influences are our steps guided! Come, proceed in your exhortations. Argue with the utmost clearness and cogency. Arm yourself with all the irresistibles of eloquence. Yet you are building nothing. You are only demolishing. Your argument is one thing. Its tendency is another; and is the reverse of all you expect and desire. My assent will be refused with an obstinacy proportioned to the force that you exert to obtain it, and to the just application of that force."
"I see," replied the lady, smiling and leaving her seat, "you can talk in riddles, as well as other people. This visit has been too long. I shall, indeed, be sorry, if my interference, instead of serving my friend, has injured her. I have acted an uncommon, and, as it may seem, an ambiguous part. I shall be contented with construing my motives in my own way. I wish you a good evening."
"'Tis false," cried he, sternly, "you do not wish it!"
"How?" exclaimed the astonished Constantia.
"I will put your sincerity to the test. Allow me to spend this evening in your company; then it will be well spent, and I shall believe your wishes sincere. Else," continued he, changing his affected austerity into a smile, "Constantia is a liar."