Selina, lost in reflection, unconsciously prolonged her solitary and almost untasted meal, till she was roused by the abrupt entrance of Lady Hammersley, who, profiting by her plea of relationship, had come to inquire all the particulars of the Viscount's death. Though Selina now felt a degree of repugnance to Lady Hammersley, which her almost impertinent remarks had provoked, yet she could not with propriety refuse the details she demanded; and she accordingly answered her numerous questions with as much brevity as politeness permitted. But her auditor seemed to attend more to her countenance than to her words, and at last abruptly exclaimed, "I certainly did not expect to see so much real sorrow in this house of mourning; you are a good girl, I believe, after all; and I like you for having at least some feeling left." Though Selina was always grateful for advice, and even reproof, dictated by affection, yet she did not feel, that Lady Hammersley was in any way authorized to offer her either; and therefore she replied, with an air of hauteur, which the recollection of her observations the day before increased, "My acquaintance with your Ladyship has been so short, that neither my feelings nor character can be known to you: have you any commands, madam, to Lady Eltondale?" and rising as she spoke, she prepared to quit the room. But Lady Hammersley, taking hold of her hand, exclaimed, "What, proud too! well, I like you the more for it; come, sit down, you and I must be better acquainted. For once I am inclined to think I have been mistaken. When first I saw you at Eltondale," continued she, in a tone of unusual kindness, "I was interested by your personal appearance; but above all, by your simplicity of character: but as I knew these were the two precise points, which must infallibly be most changed by your residence with Lady Eltondale, I looked upon you only as a fine piece of plaster of Paris, which she would probably mould to external perfection, but leave all hollow within. I should therefore (forgive my frankness, Miss Seymour), most likely, never have thought of you again, had I not met Mrs. Galton; who spoke of you in such terms, that I own I was curious to learn whether my prognostics were verified or not. Circumstances have accelerated my knowledge of you; and since I find, at least to all appearance, that Lady Eltondale's arts have not entirely spoiled your character, I am anxious that her schemes should not militate against your happiness." "Schemes! Lady Hammersley, I am at a loss to understand you." "Her favourite scheme," returned her Ladyship, "is this,—she intends you should marry her step-son Frederick Elton, now Lord Eltondale; and her visit to Deane Hall, which you may remember this time twelvemonth, was to procure your father's consent to the match, in which she succeeded." "My father's consent!" exclaimed the agitated girl. "But Mr. Elton and I are unacquainted; we have never even seen each other. You must be mistaken, my dear madam." "No, there is no mistake; both your late uncle and Mrs. Galton were my authorities." "And do you say my father gave his consent?" "I do say so: and I also know, that Frederick is now on his return to England, intending to propose for you. Come, my dear, do not be so agitated: he is one of the finest young men of the day: his character amiable, and his manners attractive; so perhaps you cannot do better than make choice of him, provided your affections are not otherwise engaged." A pause of some minutes ensued. Lady Hammersley then continued: "But in telling you Lady Eltondale's scheme, it is fit I should explain her motive; for be assured, Miss Seymour, no action of hers can ever be disinterested. The fact is, she has long known, that the Eltondale estates are as much encumbered as the entail permits them to be; and in securing your property for Frederick, she flatters herself she has secured an increased jointure for herself." Selina shuddered, but could make no reply. And Lady Hammersley rising, said, "I have now, my dear Miss Seymour, told you all I know: you may think me an impertinent old woman, but, be assured, I only wished to be a kind one. God bless you! perhaps we may never meet again; for I suppose Lady Eltondale will leave this place immediately. But don't forget the key I have given you to her character; and believe me it is not a false one." So saying, she affectionately kissed Selina, who took leave of her with a gratitude and cordiality, she would a few hours before have believed it scarcely possible she could ever have experienced for Lady Hammersley.
It may be supposed this conversation made a deep impression on her mind; and one of the most painful feelings it excited was the insight it gave her into Lady Eltondale's selfish and dissembling character, confirmed as it was by her own previous observations. But even these feelings had not long power to withdraw her attention from that part of Lady Hammersley's communication which related to Frederick, and which was also corroborated by her recollection of several remarks and casual speeches of Lady Eltondale, which, at the time they were made, had seemed to her accidental and undesigned, but each of which, on retrospection, appeared "squared and fitted to its use." Nor did the circumstance of her deceased father having given his consent to the match serve, as with some romantic ladies it might have done, to determine her against it; on the contrary, it rather served to prejudice her in its favour; and a long train of reflections was concluded in her own mind by Lady Hammersley's observation, "So perhaps you cannot do better, provided your affections are not otherwise engaged."
CHAPTER XI.
Why she, even she—
Oh! Heav'ns! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer.
Hamlet.
Selina's meditations were disturbed by a summons to Lady Eltondale's dressing-room, on a subject of no less importance than the choice of mourning: a mixed sentiment of contempt and indignation took possession of her mind, as she saw every feeling, that should have been called forth in that of the recent loss, absorbed in the more momentous reflections suggested by the comparative merits of the bombasins. But when the bevy of milliners left the room, and Lady Eltondale, hiding her face with her handkerchief, gave way to an outrageous burst of grief, Selina condemned herself for her premature judgment. "That is fortitude, which I have cruelly termed insensibility," thought she; and softened by her tears, the first she had ever seen her shed, she kindly took her hand, and addressed her in terms of condolence. But Lady Eltondale interrupting her in a tone, which from contending passions almost approached a scream: "Spare me, spare me," exclaimed she, "I can bear any thing but pity. Good God! is it come to this! am I, the envied, flattered Lady Eltondale, born to be pitied?" Then turning to Selina, with a countenance distorted with rage, and her figure distended into more than common loftiness, "You mistake me, Miss Seymour," she continued; "though that man of sloth, that dormouse, Lord Eltondale, has left me almost pennyless; though all my entreaties, all my reasons, could never rouse him from his indolence, to make him active for or against ministers, either of which would have procured me a pension; yet do not fancy I am yet to be despised. My spirit is independent, be my circumstances what they may, and they may still be bettered."
Selina was thunderstruck at this address. She could scarcely recognise the calm, dignified Lady Eltondale, in the being convulsed with rage, that writhed beneath her steady gaze. In the contortion of uncontrolled passion, the veil had dropped, and the delusion vanished. A silence of a few moments ensued, and both the ladies recovered themselves; Selina to explain the condolences she had meant to offer as kindnesses, and Lady Eltondale to receive them with that degree of gratitude, she timely recollected it was most prudent to profess. And now,
"Brief as the lightning in the collied night,
That in a spleen unfolds both Heav'n and earth,"