My dear mother had disposed of her house at Brompton very unwillingly, in compliance with the wishes of Lord Berwick and her husband. Her departure, as well as mine, was delayed by a circumstance which I will now relate.
Colonel Parker, being one of those sort of animals whose constitution requires variety, had been, of late, cooling towards Fanny, his most amiable and, I will swear, most faithful companion, the mother of his child too, and merely because he had been in possession of her person too many months for his habit of variety. Having left her one morning to pay a visit to a relation of his, where he was to meet his cousin, Fanny asked him, in joke, if he was certain he should not make love to her.
"Love to her!" exclaimed Parker, "she is the greatest fright imaginable. I wish you could once see her. It would set your mind at rest for the remainder of your life, on that head at least." The lady's name was Popham, if I recollect right.
As Parker promised to return to Fanny in a week, she grew uneasy when almost a fortnight had elapsed without seeing or even hearing from him. At last, somebody told her that he was in town, and residing at an hotel in Vere Street. Fanny set off that very instant by herself and on foot to the hotel, declaring her conviction of its utter impossibility. She was, however, dreadfully agitated, quand même. She met Parker on the steps of the hotel, and placed her hand upon his arm, absolutely breathless and speechless.
"Fanny," said Parker, "you are no doubt surprised that I did not either go to you or inform you of my arrival in town." Fanny looked earnestly in his face,—"but," continued Parker,—and he hesitated.
"Pray, speak," said Fanny, and she pressed both her hands on her left side. She had of late often complained that she felt pain there; but at that moment it was agonising and seemed almost to produce suffocation, which might have been seen by the purple tint of her quivering lips.
"I have bad news for you," said Parker, rather confused than agitated. "I am going to be married," he continued, observing that Fanny could not speak.
At these words Fanny's whole countenance underwent such a violent change that Parker was terrified and, calling a hackney-coach, they stepped into it and came home together while I was sitting with Julia, at whose house Fanny still resided.
The little sitting-room which Fanny had furnished and fitted up for herself was a back parlour, looking into a garden. Her veil was down when she descended from the coach, and, though we expected they would have come upstairs, Julia and I determined not to interrupt them. I was to pass the day with Julia: and, when the dinner was on the table, the servant was desired to knock at Fanny's door and inform Colonel and Mrs. Parker that we were waiting. The servant brought us word that they must beg to be excused. I became uneasy and, without knocking or any further ceremony, entered the room. Fanny was sitting on the sofa with her head reclined on the pillow. She was not in tears and did not appear to have been shedding any; but her face, ears, and throat were visibly swollen, and her whole appearance so changed that I was frightened.