How delicate,—how seasonable, this hint! Without it could I have met his eye, after the weakness I had betrayed?—We had now no more interesting subjects; I believe he thought I had enough of them.
It was near two when we reach'd the Abbey. Sir James and Mr. Morgan were just return'd from a ride;—Lady Powis met us on the Green, where she said she had been walking some time, in expectation of her strollers,—She examin'd my countenance very attentively, and then ask'd Lord Darcey, if he had remember'd her injunctions?
What reason, my Lady, have you to suspect the contrary? he returned—Well, well, said she, I shall find you out some day or other;—but her Ladyship seem'd quite satisfied, when I assured her I had been no farther than the Beach-walk.
Cards were propos'd soon after dinner: the same party as usual.—Mr. Morgan is never ask'd to make one;—he says he would as soon see the devil as a card-table.—We kept close at it 'till supper.—I could not help observing his Lordship blunder'd a little;—playing a diamond for a spade,—and a heart for a club,—I took my leave at eleven, and he attended me home.
Mr. and Mrs. Jenkings were gone to bed,—Edmund was reading in the parlour; he insisted on our having a negus which going out to order, was follow'd by Lord Darcey:—I heard them whisper in the passage, but could distinguish the words, if she is ill, remember, if she is ill—and then Edmund answer'd, You may depend on it, my Lord,—as I have a soul to be saved:—does your Lordship suppose I would be so negligent?
I guess'd at this charge;—it was to write, if I should be ill, as I have since found by Edmund,—who return'd capering into the room, rubbing his hands, and smiling with such significance as if he would have said, Every thing is as it should be.
When his Lordship had wish'd us a good night, he said to me,—To-morrow, Miss Warley!—but I will say nothing of to-morrow;—I shall see you in the morning. His eyes glisten'd, and he left the room hastily.—Whilst Edmund attended him out, I went to my chamber that I might avoid a subject of which I saw his honest heart was full.
On my table lay the Roman History; I could not help giving a peep where I had left off, being a very interesting part:—from one thing I was led to another, 'till the clock struck three; which alarm made me quit my book.
Whilst undressing, I had leisure to recollect the incidents of the pass'd day; sometimes pleasure, sometimes pain, would arise, from this examination; yet the latter was most predominant.
When I consider'd Lord Darcey's tender regard for my future, as well as present peace,—how could I reflect on him without gratitude?—When I consider'd his perplexities, I thought thus:—they arise from some entanglement, in which his heart is not engag'd.—Had he confided in me, I should not have weaken'd his resolutions;—I would no more wish him to be guilty of a breach of honour, than surrender myself to infamy.—I would have endeavour'd to persuade him she is amiable, virtuous, and engaging.—If I had been successful, I would have frown'd when he smil'd;—I would have been gay when he seem'd oppress'd—I would have been reserv'd, peevish, supercilicus;—in short, I would have counterfeited the very reverse of what was likely to draw him from a former attachment.