Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 277: what you’re looking at

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264 rendering me the witness of an interview between herself and that individual. I had the fullest confidence in the fidelity of her attachment to- wards me; and therefore I resolved to proceed. Besides, it occurred to me that I should most assuredly learn fresh secrets relative to St. Clair, and that the more I knew of his private life the more completely he would be in my power, and the greater the number of offensive and defensive weapons I should be getting into my own hand. Finally, I was very curious to penetrate all these mysteries in which Zarah was playing so singular a part, “You will come with me?” she said, after having allowed a few minutes to elapse for my meditation. “Yes,” I responded: “I will pursue this ad- venture to the end.” There was now another interval of silence— during which, as I contemplated Zarah by the blaze of light shed from the shops in the West End streets through which we were passing, I perceived that she was very handsomely dressed. Indeed she was fashionably apparelled—but in a style strictly consistent with good taste, there being nothing gaudy nor outrageous in her toilet. She had evidently addressed herself to some first-rate milliner, to whose discretion and judgment she had completely abandoned herself in respect to her raiment. She looked exceedingly handsome; and the flush of excitement upon her cheeks glowed through the dusky tint of her com- plexion, Her long black hair flowed from beneath an elegant Parisian bonnet; and her large eyes shone with a stronger lustre than was even their wont. I saw in the expression of her features that there was a firm decision to enact a particular part at the expected interview, and that she hoped likewise to work it out to a successful issue. I was still wondering what purpose Zarah could possibly have in view, when the cab stopped in front of a house situated in a good street at the West End of the town. A cabriolet, with its lighted lamps, which had already stopped there, had to draw on a little to make way for our own humbler vehicle; and Zarah hastily said, “St. Clair has arrived !” “Then your project of rendering me an unseen listener,” I said, “has failed ?” “Not so,’ replied Zarah: “the arrangement continues as before.” We alighted: she rewarded the cabman with a liberality which elicited his warmest thanks; and the front door was opened by a very neatly attired maid servant. Zarah inquired if a gentleman were waiting in the front drawing-room? and the maid replied in the affirmative. My gipsy-friend then led me up a handsome staircase to the first-floor, where she gently opened a door. I entered a room which was involved in semi-obscurity ; but there was sufficient light from the windows to show me that it was a handsomely furnished sitting apart- ment, having the air of a back drawing-room. Zarah closed the door upon me as noiselessly as she had opened it; and I speedily discovered that there was a large pair of folding-doors communi- cating with the front apartment. My gipsy- friend evidently did not intend to lose any time, nor expose me to the chance of discovery in my hiding-placec, by ascending to her own chamber to i ee en erm ee ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. make any change in her apparel; for she proceeded at once into the front drawing-room by means of a door communicating therewith from the landing. “I am here according. to promise, my dear | Zarab,”’ said St. Clair, in a listless indiferent manner, as if he were addressing himself to some menial towards whom he might adopt a tone of a certain insolent familiarity. ‘“ And now perhaps you will have the kindness to tell me what all this means—why for the last six or seven months you have disappeared as it were from the world— why I now find you pranked out in this elegant style—and why you are the tenant of handsome apartments,—yow who at one time would have been contented with a ricketty old caravan ora tumble-down cottage.” “Have the kindness to be seated, Captain St. Clair,” said Zarah, in a calm voice, which showed the most perfect confidence in herself, and which seemed to imply a quiet disdain to take any votice of the impertinent flippancy of his manner and observations. At the same time that she thus spoke, she ad- vanced towards the folding-doors to draw forward for her own use a chair which stood against them: and this action, which could have nothing signifi- cant in it for St. Clair, nevertheless had a certain purpose which at once developed itself to me; for by the removal of the chair one of the leaves of the folding-doors opened to the extent of about an inch, thus enabling me to listen with all the greater facility to whatsoever conversation might take place. “You certainly look remarkably well, Zarah,” continued St. Clair, “‘ in that fashionable toilet of your's: but permit a friend to observe that such an apparel, and such a mode of life as this which you seem to be leading, are rather inconsistent with the want of those graces of manner—those mental accomplishments, which constitute true gentility.” “And do you find, Captain St. Clair,” asked Zarah, ina really most lady-like tone, “ that I am so completely deficient in these respects ?” “ On my soul, Zarah, I can’t make you out P” ejaculated St. Clair. ‘ You do not seem to be the same Zarah that I used to know. If I had been drinking I should think that my eyes were de- ceiving me: but being in possession of my sober senses, I confess that I am astonished. Yes— truly, the more I look at you, the more do you seem altered. Why, what on earth does it all mean? ‘That gesture of your’s is far from inele- gant that posture becomes you and as I am a living man! you seem as if you had never worn anything else but pink bonnets from Paris and silk dresses made up by the Court milliner. What the deuce does it all mean, Zarah P” “ It means, Captain St. Clair,” she answered, that I have studied to work this improvement in myself. You remember that some six or seven months back you made me a present of a bank: note i | “For five hundred pounds,” added St. Clair earelessly. ‘But what of that? I ‘grant you that with a portion of it you might purchase the elegant toilet which you wear, and that it would for a long time enable you to live in such apart- ments as these. But you cannot buy refinement of manner with gold; and though you may have CONMNIEIOOKS eee S| Com