If our readers are desirous to know how this personage, respecting whose identity there seem to exist so many contradictory opinions, obtained entrance to this gay circle, and the envied hand of Lady Julia L.; nay, how it was that so many people actually believed him to be Lord Fitz-Ullin; we must lead them back, about half an hour, to when, and where, we left the sisters with Lord L., near the door of the first reception-room.
Mammas told Lord L. that he ought to have allowed their girls a chance, before he thus cruelly merged all that had been bright in the hemisphere of fashion in the dazzling lustre of stars so pre-eminent. The young ladies themselves thought, that had they had as beautiful dresses on, they should have looked just as well. The downright old gentlemen congratulated his Lordship, with sincere cordiality, on the charms of his daughters. Those who still had twinkling eyes, and merry souls, wished themselves twenty years younger, and envied the present generation. The middle-aged dandies addressed well-turned compliments to the ladies themselves; and the coxcomical young ones endeavoured to look quite irresistible, as they made their bows in silence.
At length, “Lord Fitz-Ullin!—Lord Fitz-Ullin!” was thundered in the hall, echoed, from servant to servant, on each landing of the stairs, and finally repeated at the door of the reception room. The reports of his Lordship’s intended marriage broken off at the altar, and of his having shot himself for love, were fresh in the minds of all; so that the idea of beholding him, appeared to create a pretty general sensation; and, at the sound of his announcement, every head turned round. Yet, when he did actually enter, Julia was not even aware of the circumstance. She had looked towards the door, her heart trembling with the expectation of seeing Edmund enter with him. And she had seen Edmund enter; but with whom she had been too much agitated to notice. The appearance of our hero had shocked her. It was that of one who had received a stunning blow! All expression of feature was deadened,—all animation of air and carriage gone! He advanced with eyes scarcely raised. If Julia’s ideas had been thrown into a state of confusion on his first entrance, what was her astonishment, when her father, presenting our hero, said, “Julia, my dear, this is Lord Fitz-Ullin! Lord Fitz-Ullin, Lady Julia L., Lady Frances L.”
It was now Lord L.’s turn to be surprised. He saw both his daughters extend a hand at the same moment, while the gentleman he was in the act of presenting, took a hand of each, and, though with a pale and quivering lip, pronounced the names, Julia, Frances, divested of title.
All this had occupied but a second or two, during which Lord L. had exclaimed, “My introduction has been superfluous here, I perceive!”
“Why, papa,” cried Frances, “this is Edmund!”
Julia attempted to speak, but failed. Lord L. looked his amazement, which was too great for utterance.
“It is very true, my Lord,” said our hero, raising his eyes, and making a wretched attempt to smile; “I am both Montgomery and Fitz-Ullin! and, in that double character,” he added, in a tone of more feeling, “owe a double debt of gratitude and affection to Lord L., and to—to all his family,” he attempted to say, but voice failed him. Here, notwithstanding Lord L.’s aversion to a scene, something very like one, unavoidably took place; at the commencement of which, however, his Lordship had the presence of mind, to hurry the party, for a few moments, just within the doorway of a small refreshment room, which stood invitingly open at but the distance of a pace or two, and which was as yet unoccupied. Here Edmund hastily gave recitals, of some very unexpected discoveries, which the supposed Lord Fitz-Ullin’s intended marriage had brought to light, and which had proved our hero to be the only legitimate son and rightful heir of the deceased Earl. The noble conduct of the individual who was the sole sufferer, had, he explained, placed him at once in quiet possession of all his rights. In answer to Lord L.’s surprise that a clearer statement of facts had not appeared in the papers, he mentioned, that the editors had been silenced, for the present, from delicacy to the feelings of some of the parties. He seemed shocked when Frances assured him, that his letter to her grandmamma, had been completely a riddle.
He thought, he said, that it had explained all that the papers had left unexplained. But, he confessed that he had had much to agitate and confuse his mind just at the time; and that he did not, therefore, know exactly what he had written; his object, however, in writing, he said, had been to mark the respect due to his revered benefactress, by giving her the earliest intimation of the wonderful change in his circumstances.
Edmund confessed that he would have turned back, and postponed this agitating interview till the next day, had he not got out of the carriage and ascended the stairs in total abstraction of mind, and literally without once looking about him till he had entered the first reception room, when it was too late to retreat. Explanations ended, Lord L., as the party returned to the company, said, with assumed carelessness:—