"Well said, my prave toctor, (cried Camelford;) little tan Cupit must next take care of himself, or your will be after tissecting his cotship; and, though the poor cot is as plind as a peetle, you will be for couching his eyes, till he can see as clear as yourself."
A servant came to invite them to sup with the governor and his party, which luckily put an end to a conversation that was become unpleasant. It made De Willows rather uncomfortable and small in his own opinion, and compelled him to reflect more seriously on the subject than he had ever done before. Of Madeline it was folly to think any longer. If Edwin, who was beloved, dared not hope being blest with her hand, without the interference of a miracle, what chance could there be of his succeeding, for whom she felt only the coldest indifference? He determined to take his heart severely to talk, and to—but it was impossible for him at that moment to tell how he should dispose of a heart which had received so many wounds, that it scarcely retained any of its native mutilated form; but, on a more serious examination, he found a something lurking in it that made him feel very reluctant to give up his pleasant and interesting intercourse with the tender and artless Edeliza, which long habit had rendered more necessary to his happiness than he was aware of.
CHAP. XI.
The design of Sir Philip, in giving a ball, was this evening made known, and the next day messages were sent out to invite the company for that day week. Preparations were instantly begun, and new dresses ordered. Madeline and Agnes de Clifford obtained leave to be of the party, and several of the inhabitants of Bungay were highly pleased by receiving invitations. Roseline, on whose account, as much as the Baron's, it was given, was the least gratified. Any scene of cheerfulness to her was become a scene of misery. Her spirits depressed her mind, itself a chaos of contending passions, could not admit a single ray of hope or comfort to chase away the gloom which there prevailed. She no longer felt either pleasure or consolation in her stolen interviews with her beloved Walter, which once afforded her such indescribable satisfaction.
They now saw each other with a tender despondence, which served to deprive them of that resolution which could alone support them in those trials which no longer appeared at a distance, and Roseline, sinking under the burthen of her own sorrows, felt herself totally unable to share in those which equally overpowered her unfortunate lover, from whose prison she never went, but he concluded it was the last time he should be indulged with seeing her.
Walter heard of the ball, which was to be given in compliment to his rival, with that kind of contempt and trembling indignation which a brave officer feels at seeing some upstart stripling stepping over his head to preferment, and, by dint of mere adventitious events, obtaining authority to lead those whom he dared not have followed. It has always been said that the sincerest love could not exist without hope. In this instance, however, the assertion did not hold good; for, though hope was lost, love maintained its empire, and, environed with despair, lost none of that tender energy which had united two hearts under circumstances the most alarming and distressing.
The conduct of Sir Philip de Morney surprised all those who were let into the secret of the projected alliance. The Baron's pride appeared to have infected him with a mania of the same kind; and the unpleasant change it produced was not more inimical to the happiness of others than he soon found it proved to his own. He was now seldom greeted with the smile of affection: he saw looks of distress, and heard the sigh of discontent vibrate on his ear; and, whilst he condemned the obstinacy of others, determined resolutely to persevere in his own.
How much is it to be lamented, that, with all the knowledge he acquires, man knows so little of himself! How astonishing that a sudden and unexpected change in his prospects, or situation, should instantaneously work so unaccountable a revolution in his feelings, that he scarcely retains any recollection of his former dispositions!—and, still more strange it appears, that, while adversity serves to exalt the mind and purify the heart, prosperity should harden and debase them.
About forty of those who had been invited to the ball returned answers that they would do themselves the honour of accepting the invitation. Roseline became so much changed in her looks, appearance, and manner, that at length the alteration struck the Baron, and he mentioned it to Sir Philip. This produced a second warm altercation between him and Roseline, which ended as the former had done, namely, in the want of resolution, strength, and spirits, on her part, to contend longer on a subject so painful to her feelings, and so inimical to all her hopes of happiness; for Sir Philip now insisted, and that with a degree of unfeeling ferocity, that she should give her hand to the Baron within ten days after the month was expired which he had so foolishly allowed her perverse folly and caprice.
Of this interview Roseline said nothing to her brother or the prisoner, but felt that her fortitude deserted her as time stole away, and, with the deprivation of health and spirits, threatened to leave her an uncontending and helpless victim to the authority she began to doubt having power to resist. Still she determined, if dragged by force to the altar, she would resolutely and openly, before its sacred front, declare not only her unwillingness to become the wife of the Baron, but her repugnance and aversion to the monastic life.