"Oh! name them quickly, and ease my heart of this load of distraction! It is more—much more than I can bear."
"Oh my lovely angel!" cried the horrid wretch, "would you but shew some tenderness to me! would you but listen to the most faithful, most enamoured of men, much might be done. You would, by your sweet condescension, bind me for ever to your interest, might I but flatter myself I should share your affection. Would you but give me the slightest mark of it, oh! how blest I should be! Say, my adorable Julia, can I ever hope to touch your heart?"
"Wretch!" cried I, "unhand me. How dare you have the insolence to affront me again with the mention of your hateful passion? I believe all you have uttered to be a base falsehood against Sir William. You have taken an opportunity to insult his wife, at a time when you think him too much engaged to seek vengeance; otherwise your coward soul would shrink from the just resentment you ought to expect!"
"I am no coward, Madam," he replied, "but in my fears of offending the only woman on whom my soul doats, and the only one whose scorn would wound me. I am not afraid of Sir William's resentment—I act but by his consent."
"By his consent!"
"Yes, my dear creature, by his. Come, I know you to be a woman of sense; you are acquainted with your husband's hand-writing, I presume. I have not committed a forgery, I assure you. Look, Madam, on this paper; you will see how much I need dread the just vengeance of an injured husband, when I have his especial mandate to take possession as soon as I can gain my lovely charmer's consent; and, oh! may just revenge inspire you to reward my labours!" He held a paper towards me; I attempted to snatch it out of his hand. "Not so, my sweet angel, I cannot part with it; but you shall see the contents of it with all my heart."
Oh! Louisa, do I live to tell you what were those contents!—"I resign all right and title to my wife, Julia Stanley, to Lord Biddulph, on condition that he pays into my hands the sum of fourteen thousand six hundred pounds, which he enters into an engagement to perform. Witness my hand,
WILLIAM STANLEY."
Grief, resentment, and amazement, struck me dumb. "What say you to this, Lady Stanley? Should you not pique yourself on your fidelity to such a good husband, who takes so much care of you? You see how much he prizes his life."
"Peace, monster! peace!" cried I. "You have taken a base, most base advantage of the wretch you have undone!"