It is surprising with what quick perception women will discover the most hidden sentiments of others, when they have the remotest reference to the object of their favour and predilection; and many a man owes his success in life to the unceasing, and perhaps unknown endeavours to serve him, of some devoted, and it may be, unrequited heart. Who will watch like a woman over those minute details, which swell the aggregate of greater means? Who can feel, as a woman can, those vibrations of circumstances which may enable her to seize upon favourable moments, those mollissima tempora fandi, when the current of success may be directed to the object of her wishes. Lady Hamlet was well skilled to do all this, and from the first of Lord Albert's appearance in the circle in which she moved, her most diligent attention was ever awake to all that concerned him. She perceived that whenever he was spoken of, the Tilneys were particularly cautious and guarded in giving their opinion; and she was not mistaken in thence arguing that they were aware he might become a man of high consequence, in every sense of the term, as well as in their own peculiar acceptation of it.
Lady Hamlet Vernon felt that in this they had not formed an erroneous view of him, for she read ambition in his character: and though the species of that quality of mind was certainly very different in Lord Albert and in herself, yet its general nature was no stranger to her, and she knew it to be too powerful a lever in human actions to overlook or disregard it in this instance. On the contrary, she determined to use it in behalf of her own views; and from this motive she dwelt with energy on the subject of Lord Albert's prospects for the future, while conversing with him at Lady Tilney's. She then found she was touching a master-key to open the secret recesses of his mind and feelings. In its very first application, she had found it more than answer her expectations; and the consciousness that the apparent harmony of her sentiments with his on this point, had established an interest in and obtained an influence over the very main-spring of Lord Albert D'Esterre's being, inspired her with the liveliest hope.
No mercenary views, it is true, no mean love of power for little ends, actuated her, but a violent and overpowering passion, which, however, was equally subversive of rectitude of conduct, since it was neither guided by principle, nor restrained by moral or religious control. It was not directly any selfishness of motive that impelled her to the course she was pursuing, for she would have gone blindly forward in any plan the most contrary to her interests, her habits, or her feelings, which promised to draw her into a union of sentiment with the object of her passion; but those who suffer themselves to be directed by such impulses, are under complete delusion respecting the estimate they form of themselves. Whenever passion obtains the mastery, the effect is equally certain; the wholesome freedom of a mind at liberty is gone; and when once enslaved, it becomes like a wave of the sea, tossed about in every direction the sport of winds, and is as liable to dash into ruin, as to use any power it may possess to beneficial purposes.
Whilst the fever of agitation swayed Lady Hamlet Vernon, she gave herself up in secret to the inebriating delight of dwelling upon Lord Albert's looks and words, during their last interview; she recalled the expression of his eyes, as he gazed at her while she was speaking; she still seemed to feel the pressure of his hand thrill through her veins, as when he received the ring she gave him in pledge of friendship; but as these intoxicating sensations subsided, she relapsed again into fear, lest she should have gone too far at first; lest any thing she had said or looked might have appeared too violent, too plainly have told the tale of her feelings, ere time had ripened the moment when their disclosure might be more in unison with his wishes. Then again she hoped that her agitation might have been attributed alone to the caution which she had ventured to give him respecting Lady Adeline; and that she gave him such caution, she trusted would have been ascribed to a friendly feeling for his happiness. "Yes, his happiness!" she repeated to herself; "for I could sacrifice my own to secure that boon for him. It is not from motives of jealousy that I did so warn him, for I could bear to see him the husband of another, providing that other were really worthy of him, one who would share in his views, his plans, his feelings; but to unite himself with a woman wholly unfit for him—a girl, a weak insipid girl, made up of puritanical observances and prejudices—no, I could not see him set the seal to his future misery by allowing him to remain in ignorance of a fact which is known to all the world except himself."
In this sophistical manner did Lady Hamlet Vernon argue herself into the belief that no selfish motive impelled her, but that she was acting a noble part, and as the end designed was good, the means she thought were so likewise. In flattering this belief, she recalled every look and gesture of Lord Albert D'Esterre, and she thought she had perceived that he entertained a feeling of jealousy towards Mr. Foley. "Perhaps," she said, musing on that point, to which she had not before given her full attention, "perhaps his jealousy is not without foundation. Why is Mr. Foley so much at Dunmelraise? The circumstance of Lady Dunmelraise's protection of him through life, is not sufficient cause. After all, why should he not marry Lady Adeline, if she likes him? It would be a union much more consonant with Mr. Foley's happiness (inasmuch as he would not care what were her ways of thinking) than it would be for the noble-minded, aspiring D'Esterre."
In this new point of view Lady Hamlet Vernon found another specious argument in favour of her own conduct, and her secret wishes; and if indeed this latter assumption of a fact were true, she would be doing a doubly generous action, in forwarding the wishes of her friend Mr. Foley, while she at the same time saved Lord D'Esterre from a step that would inevitably render him unhappy.
Such were the false reasonings with which Lady Hamlet Vernon justified her feelings and her conduct to herself, and under their sway, she awaited with the utmost anxiety and impatience for Lord D'Esterre on the following morning. But it was late before he came, and he was abstracted and silent when he did arrive; unlike the animated being whom she had witnessed speaking to her with such force and expression of lively feeling on the previous evening. The fact is, Lord Albert D'Esterre had been at Lady Dunmelraise's, where he had found Adeline alone; and as, in her converse and presence, there was a soothing calm, a persuasive assurance, even in her silence, of her perfect purity and truth, those feelings of jealous doubt and mistrust that had preyed upon him before his visit to her, had gradually subsided while under the influence of her immediate power. Above all, the interest she expressed for him, the alarm she declared she felt on beholding his haggard look, and suddenly changed appearance, awoke in his breast all those tender feelings which it was a second nature for him to cherish towards her.
He felt indeed that he could have laid his head on her breast, confessed his folly, and wept out his fault in having for a moment suspected her; "but then again," he thought, "it will be time enough thus to humble myself when I see proof that my suspicions are indeed groundless; and I shall not be acting up to my resolution, if I allow a moment of tenderness to put it out of my power to certify the truth of her's."
Mr. Foley's name was not once mentioned during his visit. Mr. Foley did not appear; and for the time Lord Albert D'Esterre felt happy. "We shall see," he said to himself, "if this fair shew is real; a short time will serve to prove its truth, and then my happiness will stand on a secure basis."
He took leave, therefore, of Lady Adeline with a mind much relieved, and having impressed her also with the sensation that he felt towards her, all he had ever felt; but no sooner did he quit her presence, than, with that waywardness of spirit, which is too often apt to embitter our best interests, he was impelled to call on Lady Hamlet Vernon, for the sole purpose, as he fancied, of gathering indirectly from her conversation a more clear insight into the subject of her discourse. But in her presence, he in vain endeavoured to lead her to it; she avoided all reference, however remote, to the cause of his inquietude, and when she touched on the topic of his public career in life, Lord Albert felt that it was done in so vague and wary a manner, as to afford him no clue whatever to what engrossed at that moment all his thoughts, and he involuntarily became silent, and manifested an indifference to all farther converse. When he arose to take his leave, if he was less happy than when he had left Lady Adeline, he was not conscious of any reason why it should be so; but that of which he could not fail to be conscious, was the sensation that a spell was spread around him, whenever he approached Lady Hamlet Vernon.