“I say this,” said Lady Hester, rapidly, “because the moment has come to test your fidelity. Sir Stafford and I it is needless to state how and by what means have at last discovered, what I fancy the whole world has seen for many a day, that we were totally unsuited to each other, in taste, age, habit, feeling, mode of life, and thought; that we have nothing in common, neither liking nor detesting the same things, but actually at variance upon every possible subject and person. Of course-all attempt to cover such discrepancies must be a failure. We might trump up a hollow truce, child, but it never could be an alliance; and so we have thought, I 'm sure it is well that we have hit upon even one topic for agreement, we have thought that the best, indeed the only, thing we could do, was to separate.”
An exclamation, almost like an accent of pain, escaped Kate at these words.
“Yes, dearest,” resumed Lady Hester, “it was his own proposal, made in the very coldest imaginable fashion; for men have constantly this habit, and always take the tone of dignity when they are about to do an injustice. All this, however, I was prepared for, and could suffer without complaint; but he desires to rob me of you, my dear child, to deprive me of the only friend, the only confidante I have in the world. I don't wonder that you grow pale and look shocked at such cruelty, concealed, as it is, under the mask of care for your interests and regard for your welfare; and this to me, dearest, to me, who feel to you as to a sister, a dear, dear sister!” Here Lady Hester drew Kate towards her, and kissed her twice, affectionately. “There 's his letter, my sweet child. You can read it; or better, indeed, that you should not, if you would preserve any memory of your good opinion of him.”
“And he that was ever so kind, so thoughtful, and so generous!” cried Kate.
“You know nothing of these creatures, my dear,” broke in Lady Hester. “All those plausibilities that they play off in the world are little emanations of their own selfish natures. They are eternally craving admiration from us women, and that is the true reason of their mock kindness and mock generosity! I 'm sure,” added she, sighing, “my experience has cost me pretty dearly! What a life of trial and privation has mine been!”
Lady Hester sighed heavily as her jewelled fingers pressed to her eyes a handkerchief worth a hundred guineas, and really believed herself a case for world-wide sympathy. She actually did shed a tear or two over her sorrows; for it is wonderful on what slight pretension we can compassionate ourselves. She thought over all the story of her life, and wept. She remembered how she had been obliged to refuse the husband of her choice; she forgot to be grateful for having escaped a heartless spendthrift, she remembered her acceptance of one inferior to her in rank, and many years her senior; but forgot his wealth, his generosity, his kindliness of nature, and his high character. She thought of herself as she was at eighteen, the flattered beauty, daughter of a Peer, courted, sought after, and admired; but she totally forgot what she was at thirty, with faded attractions, unthought of, and, worse still, unmarried. Of the credit side of her account with Fortune she omitted not an item; the debits she slurred over as unworthy of mention. That she should be able to deceive herself is nothing very new or strange, but that she should succeed in deceiving another is indeed singular; and such was the case. Kate listened to her, and believed everything; and when her reason failed to convince, her natural softness of disposition served to satisfy her that a more patient, long-suffering, unrepining being never existed than Lady Hester Onslow.
“And now,” said she, after a long peroration of woes, “can you leave me here, alone and friendless? will you desert me?”
“Oh, never, never!” cried Kate, kissing her hand and pressing her to her heart. “I would willingly lay down my life to avert this sad misfortune; but, if that cannot be, I will share your lot with the devotion of my whole heart.”
Lady Hester could scarcely avoid smiling at the poor girl's simplicity, who really fancied that separation included a life of seclusion and sorrow, with restricted means and an obscure position; and it was with a kind of subdued drollery she assured Kate that even in her altered fortunes a great number of little pleasures and comforts would remain for them. In fact, by degrees the truth came slowly out, that the great change implied little else than unrestrained liberty of action, freedom to go anywhere, know any one, and be questioned by nobody; the equivocal character of the position adding a piquancy to the society, inexpressibly charming to all those who, like the Duchesse d'Abrantes, think it only necessary for a thing to be “wrong” to make it perfectly delightful.
Having made a convert of Kate, Lady Hester briefly replied to Sir Stafford, that his proposition was alike repugnant to Miss Dalton as to herself, that she regretted the want of consideration on his part, which could have led him to desire that she should be friendless at a time when the presence of a companion was more than ever needed. This done, she kissed Kate three or four times affectionately, and retired to her room, well satisfied with what the day had brought forth, and only wishing for the morrow, which should open her new path in life.