“Never!” exclaimed the general. His countenance was rigid as iron; then suddenly it relaxed, and going up to Helen, he said,
“I have done you injustice, Miss Stanley. I have been misled. I have done you injustice, and by Heaven! I will do you public justice, cost me what it will. Beauclerc will be in England in a few days, at the altar I will give you to him publicly; in the face of all the world, will I mark my approbation of his choice; publicly will I repair the wrong I have done you. I will see his happiness and yours before I leave England for ever!”
Lady Cecilia started up: “Clarendon!” was all she could say.
“Yes, Lady Cecilia Clarendon,” said he, all the stern fixedness of his face returning at once—“Yes, Lady Cecilia Clarendon, we separate, now and for ever.”
Then turning from her, he addressed Lady Davenant. “I shall be ordered on some foreign service. Your daughter, Lady Davenant, will remain with you, while I am still in England, unless you wish otherwise——”
“Leave my daughter with me, my dear general, till my death,” said Lady Davenant. She spoke calmly, but the general, after a respectful—an affectionate pressure of the hand she held out to him, said, “That may be far distant, I trust in God, and we shall at all events meet again the day of Helen’s marriage.”
“And if that day is to be a happy day to me,” cried Helen, “to me or to your own beloved ward, General Clarendon, it must be happy to Cecilia!”
“As happy as she has left it in my power to make her. When I am gone, my fortune——”
“Name it not as happiness for my daughter,” interrupted Lady Davenant, “or you do her injustice, General Clarendon.”
“I name it but to do her justice,” said he. “It is all that she has left it in my power to give;” and then his long suppressed passion suddenly bursting forth, he turned to Cecilia. “All I can give to one so false—false from the first moment to the last—false to me—to me! who so devotedly, fondly, blindly loved her!” He rushed out of the room.