His interviews with Evangeline had, since the second departure of Helen from home, been several; for she anxiously desired not only to learn the fate of her sister, but she formed a wild notion of leaving home herself, and living with Helen, whatever might be the circumstances in which she was placed.
She was wholly ignorant of the outer world; she had been brought up in strict home seclusion, and from the almost excessive amiability of her nature had been, as will have been seen, kept in the back ground, as a degenerate member of a proud race. Her impulses had been sneered at or sharply checked, but no attempt had been made to give them a direction. She was unhappy at home, and there seemed every probability to her that if she remained with her family she would continue to be treated ever the same—more, indeed, like an unwelcome dependant than a child, loving and loveable.
Now Helen—especially in her affliction—had been affectionate and tender in her behaviour to her, and had thus raised within her bosom a degree of attachment to her which would pause at no sacrifice to secure her happiness. She believed that if she were with Helen, she would be able to minister to her comforts, solace her griefs, and smoothe away by her loving gentleness many of her heart-cankering cares. At the same time she would be with one who would appreciate her acts, respond to them with warmth, and not repel the tributes of a most generous nature with the cold precepts of frigid pride.
So she formed a design to leave home too, that she might live with Helen; happier she felt she should be in privation and poverty with her, than surrounded by luxury and pomp at home, unaccompanied by a soft look or a kind word. In her deep anxiety to know where Helen had hidden herself, she applied, through the means agreed upon, to Charley Clinton to obtain the information. Well for her it was that his heart was full of manly honour, for he took no advantage of her formidable error in holding clandestine meetings with him. Well for her that the bland language addressed to her at various times by Lester Vane had not induced her to open her heart to him respecting her sister Helen, her own position at home, and the form her wishes had taken. The consequences of her unwitting error would have been evidenced in her certain ruin.
As it was, Charley Clinton fell in love with her, but he kept the knowledge of the fact confided to his own bosom. Firstly, he would not for the realization of his uttermost wishes have betrayed the confidence she reposed in him. Secondly, she appeared so elevated above him in position that, whatever might be his adoration of her, he saw it was not for him to plead a love-tale in her aristocratic ear. He treated her, therfore, with the very highest respect, the most thoughtful consideration, and the gentlest deference.
Evangeline appreciated his conduct to her fully. It was unusual and delicious. She so wished to be loved that she might prove how much she could love, and how pure and disinterested that love could be. She had no clear idea of the actual consequences of raising such an emotion in the breast of Charles Clinton. After the first two or three meetings, she began to ponder on the difference between his treatment of her and that of others. The servants of her father’s household, taking their tone from the conduct of Mr. and Mrs. Grahame, were less respectful or attentive to her than to any other member of the family. In the presence of all at home, she felt herself to be an intruder—some one who was of necessity obliged to be kept in the family, but most unwelcome, nevertheless.
In the society of Charles Clinton she was a wholly different being. She was elevated in her own estimation, for she saw that she was in his. She could perceive by his words, his looks, his manner, how highly he appreciated the affection she had displayed towards her sister Helen, and how his zeal and his behaviour, still tempered by the most respectful propriety towards her, increased. It was the first time she had experienced the gratification of being held in high estimation by any human creature. She was fascinated by it, and she desired heartily to retain that estimation. The desire to learn Helen’s fate began to be accompanied by the wish to learn it from no other lips than those of Charles Clinton. The hope that she should eventually be able to discover her sister and to reside with her, came to be interpenetrated by anticipations that Charles through his sister might be an occasional visitor at her new abode. His name, out of gratefulness for his exertions, took its place in her prayers. The intervals between their meetings grew fewer, and the term of the duration of the latter longer. Even those intervals were broken by correspondence, though neither in their interviews nor in their notes did one word of love arise.
Evangeline grew anxious and eager for the time of meeting after it had been appointed, and loth to part with Charley when the moment for separation arrived. She hung on his arm when they were about to part, and with a strange pleasure suffered her hand to linger in his when the word “farewell” was spoken; and as she felt his fingers tremble while they held hers, she seemed to know intuitively that they did so out of his great respect for her. A crimson hectic burned her cheek, as an unbidden but ungratified prompting rose up in her breast to kiss them, for their flattering testimony of his estimation of her.
Such was the position between Charles Clinton and Evangeline when he was called upon to proceed to the mansion in the Regent’s Park, to execute his—at all times unpleasant, and now from what had passed between him and the gentle girl—most painful task.
The whole establishment was brilliantly lighted up. A splendid dinner-party and rout was that evening to be given by the direction of Mrs. Grahame.