“But the gipsy was unaware of the fact of my mother’s marriage with the late Earl of Ellingham,” observed Mr. Hatfield; “and consequently she was ignorant of the legitimacy of my birth and the rights belonging to me thereupon.”
“Oh! now a light breaks in upon my mind!” exclaimed Charles. “I remember that she was surprised when I told her that I was a young nobleman, as I did then really believe myself to be; and I likewise recollect that she afterwards spoke to me in a manner which, while pretending a full and perfect acquaintance with all our family affairs, led me to give answers which were doubtless revelations of secrets to her. But all this did not strike me at the time: now, however, that the film has been removed from my eyes, I behold things in a clearer and truer light.”
“Yes—and I also can understand this matter,” said Mr. Hatfield, after a few moments’ deep thought “On their return to England, these women must have fallen in with Miranda: from her lips they heard enough to put them in possession of secrets which they doubtless intended to use for the purpose of extorting money from me through you. Then your infatuation in respect to the daughter, led you to speak to the mother in such a random, inconsiderate manner as to make her more fully aware of our family’s position. Thus, while affecting to know all, she drew from you those details which filled up the chapters that were wanting in the history as Miranda originally told it. Yes—this must be the truth and the explanation of the whole affair;—and now it remains for us to hasten to England without delay, and, in case the old woman shall be relieved from the charge at present existing against her, purchase her secrecy and her exile in the same way as we have arranged with her daughter.”
“But how can I face my mother?” asked Charles, in a tone expressive of the deepest grief: “how meet the Earl of Ellingham, whom I have sought to injure—and Lady Frances, to whom I have conducted myself in so scandalous a manner?”
“Now you recognise the impropriety of your behaviour towards her!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield. “Oh! I am rejoiced to perceive that your heart is open to impressions of such a saving nature!”
“The incidents of this day have made me an altered man,” said Charles, emphatically.
“Then am I almost happy that they have occurred!” cried his father. “The teachings have been bitter—bitter indeed, my poor boy; but the results may constitute an ample recompense alike to yourself and your parents. We have recovered a son—you have acquired an experience ten thousand times more valuable than the best precepts ever inculcated by mortal tongue.”
“Oh! this is true—most true, father!” exclaimed Charles. “But you have not answered the questions—the painful questions—which I have put to you.”
“First, then, with regard to your mother,” responded Mr. Hatfield, “you know that she will receive you with open arms. In respect to the Earl, he must be told all—every thing; and you may count upon his generosity. But it is with reference to Lady Frances Ellingham, who loves you—from whom the causes of your flight have been carefully concealed—and who cannot be informed of your sad connexion with a profligate woman,—Oh! it is in regard to her, that I know not how to act—that I am bewildered—cruelly embarrassed!”
“Remember, my dear father,” said Charles, in a tone of deep humility, “that henceforth I shall do your bidding in all things. You have but to speak—and I obey.”