“How glad you must have been,” said Helen, “to awake and find it was only a dream!”
“But when I screamed,” continued Cecilia, “Clarendon started up, and asked if I was in pain. ‘Not of body,’ I said;—and then—oh, Helen! then I thought I would begin. ‘Not of body,’ I said, ‘but of mind;’ then I added, ‘I was thinking of Helen and Beauclerc,’ Clarendon said, ‘So was I; but there is no use in thinking of it; we can do no good.’—‘Then,’ I said, ‘suppose, Clarendon—only suppose that Helen, without saying any thing, were to let this matter pass off with Beauclerc?’—Clarendon answered, ‘It would not pass off with Beauclerc.’—‘But,’ said I, ‘I do not mean without any explanation at all. Only suppose that Helen did not enter into any particulars, do not you think, Clarendon, that things would go on well enough?’—‘No,’ he said decidedly, ‘no.’—‘Do you mean,’ said I, ‘that things would not go on at all?’—‘I do not say, not at all,’ he answered; ‘but well they would not go on.’”
“I am sure the general is right,” said Helen.
“Then,” continued Lady Cecilia, “then I put the question differently. I wanted to feel my way, to try whether I could possibly venture upon my own confession. ‘Consider it this way, Clarendon,’ I said. ‘Take it for granted that Helen did somehow arrange that Beauclerc were to be satisfied without any formal explanation.’—‘Formal!’ said he,—‘I will not say formal,’ said I; ‘but without a full explanation: in short, suppose that from mere timidity, Helen could not, did not, exactly tell him the whole before marriage—put it off till afterwards—then told him all candidly; do you think, Clarendon, that if you were in Beauclerc’s place (I quite stammered when I came to this)—do you think you could pardon, or forgive, or esteem, or love,’ I intended to end with, but he interrupted me with—‘I do not know,’ very shortly; and added, ‘I hope this is not what Miss Stanley intends to do?’”
“Oh! what did you answer?” cried Helen.
“I said I did not know. My dear Helen, it was the only thing I could say. What would Clarendon have thought, after all my supposes, if I had said any thing else? he must have seen the truth.”
“And that he is not to see,” said Helen: “and how false he must think me!”
“No, no; for I told him,” continued Lady Cecilia, “that I was sure you wished always to tell the whole truth about everything, but that there might be circumstances where you really could not; and where I, knowing all the circumstances, could not advise it. He said, ‘Cecilia, I desire you will not advise or interfere any farther in this matter. Promise me, Cecilia!’ He spoke sternly, and I promised as fast as I could. ‘Do nothing, say nothing more about it,’ he repeated; and now, after that, could I go on, Helen?”
“No, indeed; I do not think you could. My dear Cecilia, I really think you could not,” said Helen, much moved.
“And do you forgive me, my dear, good——.” But seeing Helen change colour, Lady Cecilia, following her eye, and looking out of the window, started up, exclaiming, “There is Beauclerc; I see him in my mother’s walk. I will go to him this minute; yes, I will trust him—I will tell him all instantly.”