Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 125: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

- | ‘ Om ee eS — Oe ee ee A — ——=. TLS OC SDT I LC A A A I ee Se ee “ But is there nothing to be done?” exclaimed | turn to his native land. the young nobleman, deeply concerned. not for the wond that you should go away im- pressed with an idea of the inhospitality of Ard- leigh House !” “There is nothing further to be done, my lord,” I replied, “than for us to take our departure :— and again we thank you for your courtesy.” The Marquis of Dalrymple slowly quitted the room with an exceeding sorrowful countenance ; and when he had retired, Mr. and Mrs. Norman and the other actors and actresses signified their approval of the course which I had adopted. We repaired to our respective dressing-rooms; and it happened that the Normans and myself were the last of the professionals to leave the mansion. As we passed through the hall, we beheld the bril- liant company proceeding from the theatre to the banqueting-room; and as I glanced towards them, my looks encountered those of Lady Cecilia Urban. She was leaning on the arm of some middle-aged gentleman; and her large coal-black eyes flung upon me a glance of the haughtiest disdain, which was accompanied with a slight elevation of the head as a further expression of her scorn. My self-possession was at that mo- ment complete—and all the more so inasmuch as I felt that I had just been doing my duty in re- ference to the rejected supper. I therefore suf- fered a slight smile of contempt and pity to waver upon my lips; and as [I looked a little further along the brilliant line of guests passing through the hall, I caught sight of the wrinkled harridan Lady Mangold, who was leaning on the arm of an old beau as artificially made up as herself. She bent upon me a look of exceeding spitefulness; and then tossing her head—which made the plumes wave above an immense yellow turban— she fanned herself vehemently. On descending the steps, we found the Marquis of Dalrymple in readiness to hand Mrs. Norman and myself into the carriage, as the last delicate tribute of courtesy which he had the opportunity of paying on that occasion. On the following day the Duchess sent me a very handsome sum of money for myself and those who had performed with me,—together with a costly and exquisitely chased bracelet in a box, addressed “To Miss Traf- - ford, with the Duchess of Ardleigh’s regards.” ee CHAPTER XXII. THE UNACKNOWLEDGED WIFE. ELLEN PERCY ; OB, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. o He assured me that his “ I would | affliction for the Joss of his mother had mellowed down into a pious resignation ; and in respect to myself, his letter abounded in the tenderest ex- pressions. He begged me to answer him without delay ; and this I did—but I was deficient in the moral courage that was required to commence breaking to him the secret in respect to the pro- fession wherein I was embarked. One night I had retired to bed at the usual hour after having appeared at the theatre; and sleep soon fell upon my eyes. Again did it seem to me as if I were dreaming in that same sense which about a month back had led me to suppose that strange shapes appeared in the room: but this time my Vision was shorter—far less horrible in its com- mencement—and without the feelings of that hideous nightmare which on the former occasion had oppressed me. AsI slowly opened my eyes, I distinctly beheld a figure in a white garment in the middle of the room :—this time it did not fly the moment I began to move; and by the light of the taper which I was accustomed to leave burns ing upon the toilet-table, I recognised Juliet. She was in her night-dress ; and the rich masses of her hair were flowing over her shoulders, Her countenance had a distressed, indeed an anguished look; and the instant she saw that I was awake, she threw herself into my arms. “Good heavens, Juliet!” I exclaimed, smitten with astonishment and grief at this occurrence : * what is the matter with you P is there anything wrong P” * Hush, dearest Ellen!” she said: “or my parents will hear us conversing together —and they will be alarmed; for it is nearly three in the morning!” * But what is the matter, dear Julie?” I in- quired in the most painful suspense. ‘“ Are you ill? have you anything to distress you P” “TIT scarcely know what is afilicting me,” she replied. “Ob! I have done my best to conceal it!—but there is something which tortures me— a vague misgiving —an undefined suspicion —a presentiment of evil, without the slightest power to surmise what it can be! At length I could endure it no longer: my rest was broken with horrible dreams—and I could not resist the im- pulse of seeking your chamber, my dear Ellen!” Having thus spoken, Juliet took my morning wrapper; and enveloping herself in it, she sat down by the side of the bed. Tell me, Julie,” I said, much troubled on her account, and with all kinds of misgivings revived in my mind in respect to that inauspicious mare riage of her’s, as I could not help considering it A MONTH passed after the private theatricals at! tobe; “tell me—this is not the first time that you Ardleigh House; and it was now the end of November, in the year of 1840 of which I am writing. Three months had elapsed since the marriage of Juliet—three months since the death of my aunt. I received a letter from my cousin Harry Wakefield, informing me that the business which had taken him to New York was progressing favourably though slowly—and that while on the one hand he had the satisfaction of knowing that he should be enabled to manage the affair well on Mr. Macdonald’s behalf, yet that he was grieved on the other hand to think that several more have sought my chamber in the middle of the night?” “ Ah!” she exclaimed, in visible surprise, “ you know then 438 * IT know only that the incident of to-night ac- counts for something which occurred upwards of a month back, when methought that I beheld some one in my room: but being more than half asleep at the time, I attributed it, on awaking, to a dream.” “ Yes—it was I, Hllen!” rejoined Juliet. “Tho same thoughts which have been excruciating me months might elapse before he might hope to re- | to-night, tortured me then; and yielding to an | | CONMEDIOOKS (E om