“No, no, it is my fault; every thing I say and do is wrong,” cried Lady Cecilia. “I recollect now—it was just after her fainting, when I brought the book, and when she took it to mark she really was not able. It was not that she consulted me, but I forced my counsel upon her. I looked over the letters, and said what I thought—if anybody is wrong, it is I, Clarendon. Oh, do not visit my sins upon Helen so cruelly!—do not make me the cause of her ruin, innocent creature! I assure you, if you do this, I never could forgive myself.”
The general looked at her in silence: she did not dare to meet his eyes, desperately anxious as she was to judge by his countenance what was passing within. He clasped for her that bracelet which her trembling hands were in vain attempting to close.
“Poor thing, how its heart beats!” said her husband, pressing her to him as he sat down beside her. Cecilia thought she might venture to speak.—“You know, my dear Clarendon, I never oppose—interfere with—any determination of yours when once it is fixed—”
“This is fixed,” interrupted the general.
“But after all you have done for her this very day, for which I am sure she—I am sure I thank you from my soul, would you now undo it all?”
“She is saved from public shame,” said the general; “from private contempt I cannot save her: who can save those who have not truth? But my determination is fixed; it is useless to waste words on the subject. Esther is come; I must go to her. And now, Cecilia, I conjure you, when you see Beauclerc—I have not seen him all day—I do not know where he has been—I conjure you—-I command you not to interfere between him and Helen.”
“But you would not have me give her up! I should be the basest of human beings.”
“I do not know what you mean, Cecilia; you have done for her all that an honourable friend could do.”
“I am not an honourable friend,” was Cecilia’s bitter consciousness, as she pressed her hand upon her heart, which throbbed violently with contending fears.
“You have done all that an honourable friend could do; more must not be done,” continued the general. “And now recollect, Cecilia, that you are my wife as well as Miss Stanley’s friend;” and, as he said these words, he left the room.