“Alack-a-day, my lord,” said she, in a whimpering voice, "something dreadful, I am afraid, has happened above stairs. Oh dear! what people suffer sometimes by their good nature. I am sure, if I thought any harm would come of granting Miss Fitzalan’s request, she might have begged and prayed long enough, before I would have obliged her.” “Did she desire you to bring Colonel Belgrave to this house?” asked Lord Mortimer. “Oh, to be sure she did, my lord, or how should I ever have thought of such a thing? She has been begging and praying long enough for me to contrive some way of bringing him here; and she told me a piteous story, which would have softened a stone, of his being a sweetheart of hers before he was married.” “Merciful powers!” cried Lord Mortimer, clasping his hands together, “how have I been deceived.”
He was hurrying away, when Mrs. Jane caught his coat. “I shall lose my place,” said she, sobbing, “that I shall, most certainly; for my lord and lady never will forgive my bringing any one in such a way into the house. I am sure, I thought no great harm in it, and did it quite from good nature; for, indeed, how could one resist the poor, dear young lady; she cried, and said she only wanted to bid farewell to her dear Belgrave.”
Lord Mortimer could hear no more. He shook her from him, and hurried from the house.
Amanda’s faculties suffered but a momentary suspension; as she opened her eyes, her composure and fortitude returned.
“I am convinced,” said she, rising and advancing to the marquis, “it will shock your lordship to hear, that it is the treachery of some person under your roof has involved me in my present embarrassing situation. For my own justification, ’tis necessary to acknowledge that I have long been the object of a pursuit from Colonel Belgrave, as degrading to his character as insulting to mine. When he broke so unexpectedly upon me to-night, he declared, even with effrontery declared, he had a friend in this house who gave him access to it. As your guest, my lord, I may expect your lordship’s protection; also that an immediate inquiry be made for the abettor in this scheme against me, and a full discovery of it extorted—that should the affair be mentioned, it may be explained, and my fame cleared of every imputation.” “That, madam,” said the marquis, with a malicious sneer, “would not be quite so easy a matter as you may perhaps suppose. Neither the world nor I am so credulous as you imagine. Your story, madam, by no means hangs well together. There is no person in my house would have dared to commit the act you accuse them of, as they must know the consequence of it would be immediate dismission from my service. Had not Colonel Belgrave been voluntarily admitted, he never would have been concealed;—no, madam, you would have rejoiced at the opportunity our presence gave you of punishing his temerity. Innocence is bold; ’tis guilt alone is timorous.”
The truth of part of his speech struck forcibly on Amanda; but how could she explain her conduct?—how declare it was her dread of the marchioness and Lady Euphrasia’s malice which had made her consent to conceal him.
“Oh, I see,” said she, in the agony of her soul—"I see I am the dupe of complicated artifice.” “I never in my life,” cried the marchioness, “met with such assurance—to desire the marquis to be her champion.” “As she was intrusted to my care, however,” exclaimed Lady Greystock, “I think it necessary to inquire into the affair. Pray, sir,” turning to the colonel, “by what means did you come here?”
The colonel, with undiminished assurance, had hitherto stood near the fatal closet leaning on a chair.
“That, madam,” replied he, “I must be excused revealing. Let me, however, assure your ladyship ’tis not on my own account I affect concealment.” Here he glanced at Amanda. “Those parts of my conduct, however, which I choose to conceal, I shall always be ready to defend.” “Sir,” cried the marquis haughtily, “no explanation or defence of your conduct is here required; I have neither right nor inclination to interfere in Miss Fitzalan’s concerns.”