“'The worst torment I can be called to endure, Sire,' said I haughtily, 'is longer suspense; and I must earnestly request your Majesty's gracious intercession of Miss Marchmont's early reply to my application for the honour of her hand. Should it be refused, I must further entreat your Majesty's permission to resign the post I so unworthily hold, in order that I may be enabled to pass some years on the continent.'
“Charles appeared both startled and displeased by the firm tone of resolution I had assumed. 'Were I inclined for idle altercation,' answered he coldly, 'I might argue something for the dignity of the fair sex, who have ever claimed their prescriptive right of holding us lingering in their chains; and Lord Greville would do well to remember that his services are too important to his country to be held on the caprices of a silly girl's affected coyness. But be it so—since you are so petulant a lover, be prepared when you join her Majesty's circle to-night, to expect Miss Marchmont's answer.'
“It happened that there was a splendid fête given at the palace that evening in honour of the arrival of a French ambassador. When I entered the ball-room I caught the eye of the king, who was standing apart, with his hand resting negligently on the shoulder of the Duke of Buckingham, and indulging in an immoderate gaiety apparently caused by some 'foolborn jest,' of the favourite's; in which, I know not why, I immediately suspected myself to be concerned. On perceiving my arrival however, Charles forsook his station, and approaching me with the graceful ease which rendered him at all times the most finished gentlemen of his court, he took me affectionately by the hand, and congratulating me on my good fortune, he led me to Theresa who was seated behind her companions. Occupied as I was with my own happiness, and with the necessity of immediately expressing my gratitude both to Theresa and the King, I could not avoid being struck by the dreadful paleness of her agitated countenance which contrasted frightfully with her brilliant attire; for I now saw her for the first time out of mourning for Lady Wriothesly. When I entreated her to confirm by words the happy tidings I had learned from his Majesty, who had again returned to the enlivening society of his noble buffoon, she spoke with an unfaltering voice, but in a tone of such deep dejection, and with a fixed look of such sorrowful resolution that I could scarcely refrain, even in that splendid assemblage, from throwing myself at her feet, and imploring her to tell me whether her consent had not been obtained by an undue exertion of the royal authority. But there was always in Theresa an apparent dread of every cause of emotion and excitement, which made me feel that a wilful disturbance of her calm serenity would be sacrilege.
“During the short period intervening between her consent and our marriage, which by the command of the king, was unnecessarily and even indecorously hastened, these doubts, these fears, constantly recurred to my mind whenever I found myself in the presence of Theresa, but during my absence I listened to nothing but the flattering insinuations of my own heart, and I succeeded in persuading myself that her coldness arose solely from maidenly reserve, and from the annoyance of being too much the object of public attention. I remembered the sweetness of her manner, when one day in reply to some fond anticipation of my future happiness, she assured me, although she could not promise me at once that ardour of affection which my present enthusiasm seemed to require, that if a grateful and submissive wife could satisfy my wishes, I should be possessed of her entire devotion. But although thus reassured, I could scarcely divest myself of apprehension, and on the morning of our nuptials, which took place in the Royal Chapel, in presence of the whole court, her countenance wore a look of such deadly, such fixed despair, that the joy even of that happy moment when I was about to receive the hand of the woman I adored, before the altar of God, was completely obliterated.
“She had been adorned by the hand of the Queen, by whom she was fondly beloved, with all the splendour and elegance which could enrich her lovely figure; and in the foldings of her bridal veil, her countenance assumed a cast of such angelic beauty, that even Charles, as he presented me with her hand, paused for a moment in delighted emotion to gaze upon her. But even thus late as it was, and embarrassed by the royal presence, I was so pained by her tears that I could keep silence no longer. 'Theresa,' I whispered to her as we approached the altar, 'if this marriage be not the result of your own free will, speak—it is not yet too late. Heed not these preparations—fear not the King's displeasure, I will take all upon myself. Speak to me dearest, deal with me sincerely.—Theresa, are you willing to be mine?' She only replied by bending her knee upon the gorgeous cushion before her. 'Hush!' said she in a suppressed tone, 'hush! my lord—let us pray to the Almighty for support,' and the service instantly began.”
CHAPTER III.
“Let not the Heavens hear these tell-tale women,
Rail on the Lord's anointed.”—RICHARD III.
“The month which followed our marriage we passed in the happy retirement of Silsea; and there for the first time I became acquainted with the real character of my Theresa. Her beauty had indeed been the glory of the court, but it was only amid the privacy of domestic life that the accomplishments of her cultivated mind, and the submissive gentleness of her disposition became apparent. Timid almost to a fault, I sometimes doubted whether to attribute her implicit obedience to my wishes, to the habit of early dependence upon the caprice of those around her, or to the resignation of a broken spirit. Still she did not appear unhappy. The wearisome publicity and etiquette of the life she had been hitherto compelled to lead, was most unsuitable to her taste for retirement; and she enjoyed equally with myself the calm repose of a quiet home. When she made it her first request to me that I would take the earliest opportunity to retire from public life, and by settling on my patrimonial estate release her from the slavery of a court, all my former apprehensions vanished; and I began to flatter myself that the love I had so fondly, so frankly, bestowed, had met with an equal return. Prompt as we are to seize on every point which yields confirmation to our secret wishes, and eagerly credulous, where the entire happiness of our lives is dependent on our wilful self-deception, is it wonderful that I mistook the calm fortitude of a well-regulated mind for content, and the gratitude of a warm heart for affection? I inquired not, I dared not inquire minutely into the past; I shrunk from any question that might again disturb the serenity of my mind by jealous fears. 'I will not speak of past storms on so bright a day,' said I secretly while I gazed upon my gentle Theresa; 'it might break the spell.' Alas! the spell endured not long; for however unwillingly, we were now obliged to resume our situation at Whitehall.
“Our re-appearance at court was marked by the most flattering attentions on the part of the King and Queen. Several brilliant fêtes were given by their Majesties on occasion of our marriage; and I began to fear that the homage which everywhere seemed to await my young and lovely bride, and the promising career of royal favour which opened to her view, might weaken her inclination for the retirement we mediated. To me however she constantly renewed her entreaties for a furtherance of her former wishes on the subject; in consequence of which I declined the gracious offers of his Majesty, who was at this time particularly desirous that I should take a more active part in public measures, and accept a situation in the new ministry which would formerly have placed the utmost bounds to my ambition. I was now however only waiting a favourable opportunity, to retire altogether to the happy fire-side, where I trusted to dream away the evening of my days in the society of my own family.