“The surgeon, who had every reason to be satisfied with the liberality of Julia on behalf of her unhappy friend, and who was moreover a discreet man, perceived that his patient was a young lady of superior grade in society, and therefore volunteered his aid in ensuring the concealment of the affair. In fact, he stated that he was acquainted with a poor woman in the neighbourhood, who, having just lost her own infant, would be delighted to take charge of the newly-born babe. Lady Caroline was so far recovered as to be able to take part in this conference; and, without suffering the slightest hint to transpire as to who she was, she nevertheless intimated her readiness and ability to remunerate in the most liberal manner those who might be instrumental in completing the arrangement suggested. The surgeon accordingly undertook the settlement of the business; and, after an hour’s absence, he returned, accompanied by a young, good-looking, healthy woman, who was willing to embrace the proposal that had been made to her. She was married to a labouring man; her name was Porter; and she lived at the distance of about half a mile from Julia’s house. Lady Caroline had a well-filled purse; but even if the contrary had been the case, her friend the milliner could have supplied the funds required. As it was, the young mother gave Mrs. Porter twenty pounds in advance; and having mentioned a feigned name and address, when questioned on that point, Lady Caroline parted with her babe—though not without many a bitter pang and a torrent of heart-wrung tears!
“That was a wretched night for poor Julia Murray. In the warmth of her gratitude and friendship, she had become an accomplice in what she fancied, when she had leisure for sober reflection, to be something bordering upon the nature of a crime. Her pure soul shrank from the idea of the unnatural abandonment by a mother of her child to the mercy of a stranger, rendered necessary even though the proceeding were by the peculiar circumstances in which that mother was placed. Moreover, the readiness with which Lady Caroline had given a false name and address had somewhat shocked the truth-loving Julia;—and then she feared lest the whole matter should by any possibility become known, and compromise her own reputation. All these thoughts and apprehensions swept across her mind, after the surgeon and Mrs. Porter had taken their departure, and while Lady Caroline slept. But the generous girl strove to banish from her mind reflections which tended to diminish her respect for the patrician lady who had manifested so much kindness towards her: moreover, the natural feelings of a woman towards one of her own sex placed in such interesting though embarrassing, not to say alarming circumstances,—the sentiments of commiseration, deep sympathy, and tender friendship, soon triumphed over all other considerations;—and when Caroline awoke, just as the grey dawn of morning was breaking into the chamber, she found the young milliner watching by her bedside. The suffering lady was considerably refreshed and strengthened by the long sleep she had enjoyed: her mind was moreover relieved from the most excruciating anxieties:—and she poured forth her gratitude to Julia Murray in the most sincere and heartfelt manner. Then, in the fulness of the tender confidence which had arisen between them, Caroline told her friend how she had loved her cousin, a young lieutenant in the Navy,—how their union was forbidden by her proud mother though assented to by her generous brother, the Marquis of Wilmington,—how her mother had used her interest privately to get the young man appointed to a ship and sent to sea with only a few days’ warning,—and how, in the anguish of parting, she—Lady Caroline—had fallen a victim to her fatal passion! This narrative moved Julia to tears;—for the young milliner now comprehended what love was—and she felt that she also loved,—and that when she sorrowed in secret at the protracted absence of the stranger who had given her the gilt counter, it was in consequence of the impression which he had made upon her heart! Thus did Julia Murray at length obtain the reading of the mysterious sensations that stirred within her own soul.
“Fortunately there was a means of egress from little Harry’s room, without the necessity of the boy’s passing through his sister’s chamber; and thus was the presence of Lady Caroline retained a profound secret from him. You must also recollect that the incidents just related occurred on the Saturday night; and Harry had by chance received an invitation to pass the Sunday with his schoolmaster’s family. Every circumstance thus appeared to favour the complete concealment of Lady Caroline’s confinement. But it was now necessary that Julia should repair to the mansion in Hanover Square, and acquaint the young lady’s confidential maid with the event which had taken place, as well as to arrange for Caroline’s unobserved return home on the Monday evening;—for though at the risk of her life, she was resolved to remain away no longer than the time specified. This commission Julia faithfully performed; and after an absence of upwards of two hours, she reached her own abode once more. The patient was improving rapidly; and when the surgeon called a second time on that Sunday, he was astonished to find her so strong and in the possession of so much physical and moral energy. To be brief, on the Monday evening, according to agreement, Lady Caroline, well wrapped up, disguised in the attire of a daughter of the middle class, and with a dark green veil drawn carefully over her countenance, accompanied Julia in a hackney-coach to Hanover Square; and the two were admitted into the mansion, the hall-porter believing his young mistress to be a friend and equal of the milliner. In this manner they reached Caroline’s own chamber without the truth being for an instant suspected; and the confidential maid was in readiness to receive her lady. Julia remained there until the maid had ascertained that the hall-porter had been relieved by another domestic during the supper-hour; and then the milliner took her departure, accompanied by the fervent gratitude and blessings of the fair patrician whom she had thus extricated from a maze of the most frightful difficulties.
“The very next morning, while Julia was seated at work in her parlour, reflecting upon the incidents of the three preceding days, she heard the iron gate in front of the house groan upon its hinges; and, looking up, she beheld from the window the tall, handsome gentleman approaching the door. The day was fine; and he no longer wore his cloak;—and his garb was plain, unpretending, and perfectly genteel. The housekeeper having returned home that same morning, Julia awaited with a beating heart in the parlour the presence of her visitor; and when he entered, she felt so confused—for a variety of reasons—that she could not utter a word. In the first place she knew that she loved him;—secondly she remembered all the enquiries he had put to her late landlady concerning her;—and thirdly, she recalled to mind the gentle, good, and almost paternal way in which he had addressed her when last they met; and she fancied that in her conduct respecting Lady Caroline she had deviated somewhat from the strict line of integrity, truth, and virtue for pursuing which he had so emphatically commended her, and in which he had with equal earnestness enjoined her to persevere. Taking her hand, he said, ‘Miss Murray, have you completely forgotten me?’—‘Oh! no, sir,’ she cried, with a start as if at an imputation of ingratitude: ‘that were impossible!’—‘And yet why should you remember me?’ he asked, gazing intently upon her: ’have I ever done you any service that deserves a thought? The only incident which is likely to dwell in your mind respecting me, is the wretchedness and embarrassment to which my thoughtless conduct exposed you. But for all that you then endured, have I ever made you the slightest recompense?’—‘Oh! sir,’ cried Julia, the blood rushing to her cheeks, ‘do you think for a moment that I ever sought or looked for a pecuniary indemnification? Heavens, how have you mistaken my character!’—and she burst into tears. The stranger gazed upon her, and even smiled as if in satisfaction: but he said nothing.—‘No, sir,’ resumed the young milliner, hastily passing her handkerchief across her countenance and wiping away the traces of her grief; ‘I am not a mercenary person, such as you appear to suppose me. I did remember you with gratitude,’ she continued, her voice becoming mournful and plaintive in spite of herself; ‘because you spoke kindly to me on that evening when the accident occurred to the silk dress—because you proffered me assistance at a moment when I and my little brother really needed it—because I always believed and still believe that it was on your part entirely an error which led me into such a serious difficulty—because you then told me that you would not insult me by offering me any pecuniary recompense—and because, when you called again, you spoke kindly to me as before, gave me good advice, and also brought me intelligence from Mr. Richardson, which has led to my present prosperity. For all these reasons, sir,’ she added emphatically, ‘I have thought of you often and often; and I considered myself to be deeply your debtor.’—‘Excellent girl!’ exclaimed the gentleman, surveying her with mingled admiration and interest: ‘not for worlds would I insult your feelings, nor wound your generous heart! And it was precisely through delicacy in those respects, that I never did openly proffer you any pecuniary assistance, since that one unfortunate occasion in Hanover Square. Again, let me observe, that if I have not visited you for four long months, I have not been unmindful of your welfare. I have, as it were, watched over you from a distance; and I have learnt with supreme satisfaction, that your conduct has continued most exemplary. Miss Murray, I am perhaps singular and eccentric in my notions; and, though highly placed in the social sphere, yet I have determined to consult only my own happiness, at least for the future, in the most important step which a man can adopt in life. I allude to marriage.’—Julia started, blushed, and cast down her eyes; and this confusion on her part seemed to encourage her visitor to proceed.—‘I must candidly inform you,’ he resumed, ’that I have been a husband already, and that the alliance which I formed almost in my boyhood, and in obedience to the dictates of an imperious mother, was an unhappy one. My wife was a heartless coquette—vain—frivolous—and possessing no mind. I sought by gentleness and kindness to render her attached to her home, although I never really loved her; but all was useless. At last she caught a severe cold when returning from a rout, early on a winter’s morning; and a rapid decline soon carried her to the tomb. This occurred two years ago. I then vowed that if I should ever contract a second union, it must be where the heart alone was interested. This resolve I declared to my mother; and it has in a measure, I regret to say it, incensed her against me. The very first time I ever saw you, I felt myself suddenly and mysteriously attracted towards you. All that I have since heard or seen of you has tended to confirm that favourable impression; and I am come this morning to offer you my hand, as you already possess my heart.’
“A faintness—an indescribable sensation of mingled joy and apprehension came over Julia, as these last words met her ears,—joy in the hope that she had heard aright, apprehension lest she were the prey of a delightful vision which was too soon to be dissipated. But when she felt her hand pressed to the lips of that handsome suitor who now knelt at her feet, and listened to the tender assurances of an honourable and lasting affection which he breathed with manly sincerity in her ears, she exclaimed, under the sudden impulse of her heart’s emotions, ‘Is it possible that so much happiness can be in store for me?’—Her suitor received those words as an assent to his proposal; and, pressing the young maiden to his bosom, he said, ‘Then without knowing my name you have loved me, dearest Julia?’—She murmured an affirmative; and a rapid interchange of questions and replies convinced him that the young maiden had all along remembered him not with gratitude, but with affection! Thereupon, seating himself by her side, and retaining her pretty hand in his, he said, ‘Then henceforth, Julia, there need exist no mystery on my part. I am the pretended debtor to your deceased father; and Mr. Richardson, my own attorney, followed my secret instructions in providing for yourself and your brother. My object was to place you in comfort, yet still leave you in a condition that rendered you to a certain degree dependant on your own honest industry; and I have been overjoyed to find that prosperity has not induced you to relax your energies, nor led you into extravagances, nor in any way proved injurious to your fair fame, your amiable disposition, and your steady perseverance. With delight, then, shall I accompany so worthy a woman to the altar; and with pride shall I present you to the world as the Marchioness of Wilmington!’—‘Oh! my lord,’ murmured Julia, a greater faintness than before now coming over her, as the lofty rank of her suitor was thus announced to her, ‘is it possible that you can be the brother of that young lady to whom I owe so much?’—and then she blushed deeply, and a cold shudder passed over her frame as she remembered what a tremendous secret she had retained in her bosom, and must retain inviolably concerning the sister of him who offered to make her the partner of his rank and fortune.—‘Yes,’ said the marquis, attributing her emotions to the happiness as well as the maidenly confusion which it was natural for her to experience under existing circumstances; ‘that Lady Caroline whom you know, is my sister. You may judge my surprise when, on the night that I first encountered you in Hanover Square, you informed me that the spoilt dress was my mother’s. The very next morning I called at her residence and privately acquainted Caroline with the little adventure, casually saying that I had been a witness of the accident which was occasioned through no neglect nor carelessness on your part, and desiring her when you presented yourself to mitigate as much as possible my mother’s certain resentment against you. Since that period my sister has frequently spoken to me concerning you, and has recommended you extensively to her numerous fashionable acquaintances. But, much as I love and would trust Lady Caroline, I have never informed her of the attachment I experienced for you, nor of the fact that I was your father’s pretended debtor. This reserve originated merely in the determination to watch your conduct,—I may tell you all this now, dear girl,—from a distance; so that time might decide whether I should lay my coronet at your feet, or renounce all farther idea of an alliance with you. Thank, heaven! the former is the happy destiny; and now I have explained all that may have seemed strange or mysterious in your estimation.’
“Julia could scarcely find words to express her gratitude for all the delicate attentions and generous acts of which the nobleman had thus been the hitherto unknown author: but he sealed her lips with a fond kiss, and then proceeded to address her in the following manner:—‘I propose, dearest girl, that our union shall take place in six months from the present time. The reason that I suggest so long a delay is that I may visit you occasionally, in company with my sister, be it understood, so that you may learn to know me better than you now do; and as I shall at once make a confidant of Caroline, and am well acquainted with the generosity of her disposition, you need not apprehend any coolness or hostility on her part. Quite the contrary: she will love you as a sister. Ah! I observe that you sigh and experience an agitation of feeling, my Julia; but you have no cause to dread any exhibition of foolish pride with Caroline. Relative to my mother, I say nothing—promise nothing: at the same time I cannot permit her will to rule my happiness. And now I shall take my leave of you for the present, Julia; and I shall at once hasten to Hanover Square, to confide all that has occurred between us to my sister, who, I regret to state, has been confined for some days past to her own chamber. Alas! she, poor girl, has suffered in her best and holiest affections through her mother’s pride; but I rejoice to say that happiness awaits her yet. By the sudden death of a young cousin, Lieutenant Quentin has become Lord Hartley, and his ship will return in a few months to England. This most unexpected succession to title and wealth, will smooth down all the difficulties which my mother has hitherto interposed in the way of her daughter’s happiness; and who knows, Julia,’ added the marquis, smiling, ‘but that the two marriages may be celebrated at the same time?’—‘God grant that they may!’ exclaimed the young milliner, with a strange emphasis; then, immediately afterwards she observed, ‘For, believe me, I have your sister’s happiness most sincerely at heart.’—‘I shall not fail to tell Caroline all you say,’ returned the marquis; ‘and she will be prepared to love you the more tenderly. And now, dear Julia,’ he added, rising to depart, ‘I must bid you farewell for the present. The next time I call I shall give you due notice beforehand, so that you may have little Harry here to see me. But permit me, before I depart, to request you to divest yourself by degrees of the business and occupations which have accumulated upon you. To speak plainly, you need receive no more work from any person; and you will permit my solicitor, Mr. Richardson, to supply you monthly with such sums as you may require for your expenditure.’—All this was said by Lord Wilmington in so delicate yet tender a manner, that it increased Julia’s attachment to him, as well as her high esteem of his character; and they parted, more than ever pleased with each other.
“In the afternoon, Julia was sitting at her work, pondering upon all that had occurred, and scarcely able yet to convince herself that she was not a prey to some delusive vision, when Lady Caroline’s maid called with a note from her mistress. In this billet the fair patrician said, ‘My brother has told me all, dearest Julia; and believe me when I assure you, that it will afford me unfeigned delight to hail you as a sister. Never, never can I forget all your goodness towards me in the hour of my bitter extremity. But, for heaven’s sake! guard well my secret! This injunction, however, I need scarcely give you. And yet, there is one thing which now affects me; this is——shall you not blush to acknowledge ME as your sister-in-law, since you are acquainted with my disgrace? My heart tells me that you commiserate and sympathise: but my fears—Oh! until I receive from you an assurance that may calm them—those fears are truly painful!’—The generous Julia hastened to pen a reply, conveying in the tenderest terms the assurance solicited; and, having ascertained that the young lady was progressing rapidly towards complete convalescence, she dismissed the maid with the letter entrusted to her. Three weeks, however, elapsed before Lady Caroline was sufficiently recovered to call upon her friend Julia; and then she came alone—for her mother’s heart yearned to visit her child. Under the influence of this feeling, she was moved to tears when she learnt that every alternate day Miss Murray had made it a point to call at Mrs. Porter’s residence and assure herself that the poor babe was duly cared for. ‘This is another proof of your goodness, Julia!’ exclaimed Lady Caroline, falling upon her friend’s neck and weeping with mingled gratitude and joy. They presently proceeded together to the good woman’s abode; and the young mother was charmed to find her child thriving to her heart’s best satisfaction. On the following day Lady Caroline revisited Julia; but this time it was in company with her brother the Marquis;—and little Harry was at home to see them. You may suppose that the party was a happy one; and it gave the nobleman ineffable delight to observe that his sister and his intended wife were on the best possible terms with each other. But he little suspected the tremendous secret that had thus cemented their friendship;—and it cost poor Julia many a pang when she reflected that she was compelled to retain any secret at all from the knowledge of the generous man who reposed such confidence in her! There was however no help for it;—and yet Julia felt as if she were acting with blameable duplicity in veiling a circumstance which for her friend’s sake, she would nevertheless rather die than reveal: and after her noble visitors had taken their departure, she did not experience that amount of happiness which, with her present brilliant prospects, she knew she ought to enjoy.
“I must not dwell upon this portion of my narrative. Let us suppose five months to have passed away; during which period the marquis had been constant in his visits to Julia, but always in the company of his sister. So delicate was his behaviour in respect to the reputation of his intended bride, that he avoided every chance of compromising her; and although the neighbours saw a gentleman, whose name they did not know, call three times a-week upon the beautiful milliner, they never beheld him repair thither alone. Thus there was no scope for scandal; and Julia’s conduct was always so circumspect as to prove a complete antidote to calumny. I should observe that during the five months mentioned, the attachment subsisting between the pair increased, and warmed into the most ardent love; and I must not forget to state that Lady Caroline visited her child at Mrs. Porter’s house as frequently as she was able. But Julia seldom failed to call there every alternate day; and thus the rearing of the poor infant was strictly watched by its mother, and that mother’s bosom friend. Sometimes Harry accompanied his sister in her walk to Mrs. Porter’s cottage; but the little fellow was always made to wait in one room while Julia was shown the baby in another—and thus the real motive of her visits there was unsuspected by him. Not that she feared he would reveal any thing which he was enjoined to keep secret; but Julia believed—and rightly believed—that it was alike more prudent and delicate to leave him in total ignorance of the object which took her to the cottage. Thus time wore on, as I have already mentioned; and now I must remark that in compliance with the wishes of Lord Wilmington, Julia had by this time altogether ceased to receive work; but instead of drawing on the funds placed at her disposal in the hands of Mr. Richardson, she subsisted upon the savings which she had been enabled to accumulate. I mention all these little circumstances, to afford you as good an idea as I can convey of the excellence of her disposition, and the total absence of selfishness from her character. In fact, the more the marquis saw of her, the more enamoured of her did he become, and the greater grew his admiration of her amiable qualities. It was therefore with joy the most unfeigned that he at length considered himself justified in fixing the day for the bridal; and this ceremony was settled to take place precisely on the completion of the six months from the hour in which he had offered her his hand.
“While Julia was occupied in preparing her own wedding-dress, the Marquis busied himself in rendering his splendid mansion in Belgrave Square as suitable as possible for the reception of his bride. In the meantime he had communicated to the Dowager-Marchioness his intended marriage; but, as he had feared, his design experienced the most decided disapproval on her part. Vainly did he reason with her on the subject—uselessly did he represent that his happiness was seriously involved: his mother refused to listen to him;—and he had the mortification to incur her most serious displeasure. The bitterness of her hostility to the match he however concealed from Julia; and, much as he deplored the breach which now existed between himself and his only surviving parent, not for a moment did he entertain the thought of yielding to her tyranny. Thus the time passed on; and it was now within three days of the one fixed for the bridal ceremony, when an incident occurred which produced a terrible change in the aspect of affairs.
