In this situation he thought, for a time, that he stood alone in the world, without one sympathising friend; yet, perhaps, there was one who still remained—Lord Glenmore. Should he open his heart to him? Should he seek succour and counsel from him? No. Counsel he needed not, for his mind was made up how to act; and consolation could not, at the present moment, flow from any earthly source. As involuntarily he read over and over again Lady Hamlet Vernon's letter, a still renewing sense of the baseness of the writer flashed upon him. In every turn and phrase he thought he traced some clue to each individual circumstance which had occurred to poison his mind, and give birth to the unworthy suspicions he had entertained of his Adeline: every one of them, in turn, seemed to rise up, as it were, in judgment against him; and again he wondered how the artifices with which he had been deceived had not before been detected by him.
The whole of his intimacy with Lady Hamlet Vernon, from its commencement, was next reviewed. His mind went back to the first evening in which he met her; her praises of his Adeline; the seductive grace with which she expressed her hope, when he spoke of foreign intimacies, that he would find some objects worthy also of his regard and friendship in his native land. He saw, as if at the moment, her downcast looks, and felt over again the surprise which her tone and manner caused him. He recalled their interview at the church at Restormel; her subsequent conversation, relative to Lady Adeline, before he left that place for London; and in all these, and in every other incident connected with his growing intimacy, he now beheld the wily stratagem of a preconceived plan to win away his heart and affection from one to whom this Circean destroyer of his peace was as widely opposed as darkness to light.
This probing of his wounds, this investigation of the circumstances which had involved him in error, was a wholesome though painful exercise to his mind; for he traced his misery to its rightful source—himself. He could not but dwell on the fearful and rapid change which had been produced in him by a life passed in a circle whose whole tendency was to undermine principle and destroy the understanding. He asked himself, what was he now, compared to what he had been eighteen months before? what action, during that period, could he recall without blushing for the misuse or waste of time? How had his pursuits been abandoned! his honourable views in life lost sight of! his studies neglected! all the fruits of long and virtuous education scattered! and himself become an object of his own and of all good men's contempt!
In reflections such as these, the hours passed away, on the day of his receipt of the letter. He had hurried through his official business as quickly as possible, in order to seek the retirement of his own apartment; and there, with the picture of Adeline before him, he sat absorbed in harrowing contemplation. So entirely had the current of his affections been sent back to their proper channel by the revulsion which had shaken him, that with the exception of perusing Lady Hamlet Vernon's letter, for the purpose of bringing home more strongly the clear conviction of her infamy, he had not felt one regret on her account. Even the feeling of indignation, which conduct so base was calculated naturally to excite, had not for more than a moment occupied his heart; a heart which was as dead to any impression she could make upon it, as though he had never known her.
Midnight had already passed, and the idea that Lady Hamlet Vernon would be in ignorance the while of what had occurred had not struck him. He then felt the painful part which he was called upon to perform, in addressing the person whom he had been on the verge of making his wife in language such as her conduct merited and his own reproaches might dictate. He at length resolved to let the night pass, and in the morning, if possible, to set himself to the task with a calmer mind.
He slept not, however, and arose feeling distracted and feverish. Finding himself unable to go out, he sent, therefore, to Downing-street for some official papers which were to be looked over. The messenger brought back with these his letters also: amongst them there was one from Lady Hamlet Vernon. His soul sickened at the sight, and he cast it from him with disgust. He resolved not to open it, for he must necessarily loathe the expressions of attachment with which he knew it would be filled; and he determined to return it unopened, together with his answer. This answer, in the course of the day, he despatched by express; feeling, the moment he had given vent to his indignation, that it was but justice to do so, both to himself, and to his injured and lost Adeline.
The tenor of his reply may be easily conceived. He kept the original of the letter which had so happily removed the veil of wickedness from his eyes, but he transcribed a copy; and having animadverted on the baseness of the arts that had been practised on himself, and the fiend-like cruelty that had been exercised on the former cherished object of his affections, he avowed his determination never again to hold intercourse with her who had been the cause of so much misery and delusion. At the same time, with a feeling of that nice honour and noble generosity of soul which had never entirely left Lord Albert's breast, he informed Lady Hamlet Vernon that her infamy would remain a secret with him, unless her own future conduct towards himself should make it necessary, in self-defence, to do otherwise.
Before this answer reached Lady Hamlet Vernon, she had been in some degree prepared for the blow, for Mr. Foley, who was in town, on receiving the letter which had been intended for Lord Albert, instantly surmised the worst, and had proceeded with the utmost haste to Brighton.—There Lord Albert's answer found him and Lady Hamlet Vernon in all the dismay and terror which detection of so sinister an intrigue would naturally cause.
The arrival of Lord Albert was hourly looked for by them, as the sure consequence of what had taken place, in order to demand an explanation of the letter which had fallen into his hands; for Lady Hamlet Vernon was certain that she had written no other letter by that post except to himself and Mr. Foley, and felt, therefore, a conviction on the subject of his arrival, which was anticipated as a certainty: and although the necessity of the moment obliged Mr. Foley and Lady Hamlet Vernon to be in consultation together, a person was on the watch to apprise them of his approach, so that Mr. Foley's presence might not strengthen the suspicions already connected with his name.
Under these circumstances therefore, the arrival of a letter only was, at the moment, rather a relief; though it had been felt by the parties that there was more chance of Lord Albert's being still deceived, had he been exposed to the influence of Lady Hamlet Vernon's charms in a personal interview.—His letter was broken open in haste: the return of her own last unopened, which fell from the envelope, sufficiently foretold its purport. The messenger had departed after giving in the packet, with a brief announcement that there was no reply. It would be impossible to characterize all the feelings of disappointed passion, self-interest, hatred, and revenge, together with the mutual reproaches to which these gave birth between the detected actors of this infamous intrigue.