He placed himself at her side, and with some agitation, said:—
"Ellen, the time is come to clear up some of the mysterious words you have heard me utter at Llanwyllan: what will you say to me when I tell you—yet be not alarmed—when I tell you that, though my name is really Mordaunt, yet I have deceived you—for that is not my only designation: do not look so surprised and bewildered, my love; I am not inferior to the man you suppose me: he is indeed my relation, being the natural son of my father's brother: he is many years older than I am. Tell me, Ellen, are you afraid to hear the rest?" "No," she replied firmly, though with marks of the most impatient curiosity in her countenance. "I am so convinced of your integrity, that be who or what you will, I am happy in being your wife, and ready to share your station, be it ever so lowly." "Enchanting creature!" he exclaimed, and clasped her to his bosom: "know then, that were the coronet which binds your brow of the most costly materials instead of a simple flower, it is your's by right, for I am the Earl, and you are the Countess of St. Aubyn."
A moment Ellen struggled with the overwhelming surprize: then said: "How could you condescend to one so much beneath you?" "Beneath me!" he replied—"oh, in every thing but the mere accident of birth how greatly my superior! But the surprize, my gentle love, has made you a little pale; recover yourself, and let me see you again gay and playful as when you supposed yourself only Mrs. Mordaunt." He fixed his penetrating eyes upon her: even in that tender moment he sought to discover if any undue pride or vanity elated her; but there was no trace of any such ignoble passion: surprized, astonished as she was, and feeling some diminution of the ease and equality with which she had but lately learned to regard him, Ellen more than half regretted to find him so greatly her superior, and to see herself raised so very much beyond the station her humility led her to believe the only one she could fill with propriety; yet she must have been more or less than woman, had she not felt charmed with the disinterested love St. Aubyn had evinced in making her his wife.
Having a little recovered the emotion this interesting discovery had caused in both, Ellen entreated him, whom yet she hardly knew how to name, to explain the reason of his having appeared at Llanwyllan in a character so inferior to his own; which he did in these words:
"I cannot, my love, nor would I wish at present to tell you all my story, though some day you shall know every circumstance of my life: may they come to your knowledge without lessening your felicity!" He sighed, and thus continued:—"Some domestic misfortunes induced me, at different times, to make several excursions under the name I bore when first I met you, which is, indeed, that of my family: since my last return from the Continent, about six months ago, I did not let my friends or servants know I was come to England, but set out to travel through Wales, sometimes by one mode of conveyance, sometimes another, and not unfrequently as a mere pedestrian. I was always a good walker, and had been accustomed to pass whole days on foot amongst the mountains of Spain; frequently, therefore, I preferred walking, as giving me better opportunities of exploring the most romantic scenes. In one of these excursions I found myself at Llanwyllan; there I merely intended to stay a day or two, till accident, and your father's hospitality, introduced you to my knowledge—need I relate to you the progress of that passion which soon took possession of my heart, and left me powerless to quit you. A very few days determined me, if your affections were disengaged, to do all in my power to secure your love; yet I delayed the declaration of my own, in hopes of bringing some untoward circumstances to a favourable conclusion; but when I found our good friend Ross began to be alarmed for you, and fancied I saw in my Ellen's sweet face that she was not happy, I thought it necessary to come to some decision, and to Ross I fully explained my whole situation: he was so perfectly convinced of my honour and integrity, that he consented to give his lovely pupil to me, even under all the unpleasant circumstances which at present embarrass and torment me; and even though we both doubted whether a marriage contracted by me under the name of Mordaunt only would be completely binding: to obviate this objection, I bound myself to him, not only to make upon you such settlements as my large income rendered proper, and my heart prompted, but to remarry you as soon as I could do so without absolute impropriety; and that I will do if I live before I sleep again; though I believe the precautions we took render it unnecessary, for after you left the vestry, the day we were married, Ross and myself, as perhaps you observed, returned, and in his presence I added the title of Earl of St. Aubyn to the names of Constantine Frederick Mordaunt, which, I have no doubt, would substantiate our marriage in any court in England: to avoid, however, all possible doubt, now or in future, on this important point, I have at this instant a special licence in my possession, and this evening, at Castle St. Aubyn, Montague shall read the marriage service to us again.—Are you satisfied with this arrangement, my love?"
"I am so ignorant in every thing, that I can only rely on you; which I do implicitly, and with full confidence."
Ellen then asked St. Aubyn if Doctor Montague knew who he was in reality recommending to her father, or whether he supposed it to be indeed Mr. Mordaunt? Lord St. Aubyn laughed at this question, and said Montague would have had reason to be surprized at hearing Mordaunt was going to be married, as he was a very stiff old Bachelor of at least sixty; but the fact was, he had written himself to Montague from Llanwyllan, informing him who the person really was respecting whom Powis's inquiries would be made, and desiring him to give such a character of that person as he thought was deserved, only not to betray his real title, as he was anxious to avoid the eclat such a discovery would produce, if made while they remained at Llanwyllan.
After a little more conversation on this interesting subject, St. Aubyn and his Ellen took leave of their hospitable entertainer, after remunerating her in the most liberal way for the trouble they had given her; and as by the time they reached the village the day was far advanced, they ordered a chaise directly, and proceeded to the end of the next stage, where they dined, and where St. Aubyn told Ellen his own carriage was to meet them, and convey them to the Castle, where his household were instructed to expect their lady.
Before they had quite dined, an elegant new travelling carriage and four, with coronets on the pannels, and out-riders in rich liveries, drove to the door, and the host, who had no idea of the rank of his guests, from their arriving in a hack carriage, unattended, was in the act of denying to the servants that Lord and Lady St. Aubyn were there, when the Earl, throwing up the sash, told the men to move about, but not put up the horses, as he should go in half an hour. While he was speaking, the stage-coach from London stopt at the door, and Ellen's maid stepping out, inquired whether any servant from one Mr. Mordaunt's, in that neighbourhood, was waiting for her. St. Aubyn, calling to one of his men, desired him to send that young woman to Lady St. Aubyn. The man obeyed, and told the astonished Jane she must go and speak to his lady. "What for, pray?" answered Jane, pertly. "Indeed I shall do no such thing; I am going on directly, and don't want such fellows as you to be joking with me." "Jane!" said Ellen, approaching the window, anxious to put a stop to a dialogue she feared might disclose more than she wished the servants should know. "Oh, dear Ma'am, are you there!" answered Jane. "Oh! I am so glad; I will come to you, Ma'am, directly." One of the men, wishing for an opportunity of seeing his new lady, said, "Come, young woman, I will shew you the way to her Ladyship."
The poor girl was so much confused, by these different directions, that fortunately she had no power to refuse, or indeed to speak at all, but followed the servant into the room, where St. Aubyn and Ellen were sitting. "There," said the footman, in a low voice, and giving her a little push: "go in, child—that is my lady." "Grant me patience," said Jane, turning sharply to him: "why I tell you that is my mistress. I suppose you want to persuade me I don't know my own——." "Softly, Jane," said St. Aubyn: "there, go in, and speak to your lady, and you, Thomas, may go; we shall soon be ready to start."