Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 280: what you’re looking at

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

Wacko er a Ce Rov —— ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. - . Fern Picawen chattel ee - — - - a ee ee tre te ee ee 467 “Take your time,” observed St. Clair, again with a certain superciliousness in his accents, “I am not the least hurried—and I repeat, the whole scene is infinitely diverting.” There was now an interval of silence for a few minutes; and asI again ventured to peep from my hiding-place, I saw that Zarah was writing— while St. Clair, lounging back in his seat, was con- templating her with the half-careless air of fashion» able indolence. * Now see how it reads,” said Zarah: and she handed him the paper on which she had been writing. “Well, I must confess the penmanship defies all criticism,’ remarked St. Clair: “but let us look at the spelling. I vow and protest that I am more and more astonished: I really thought, Zarah, that you would have spelt caligraphie with two /’s, and introduced a capital at the beginning of every other word. But the specimen is perfect. However, let that pass: any school-girl decently educated, can write a fair hand. But what say you to the real accomplishments that are required to make the veritable lady? There is drawing, for instance “Have the kindness,” responded Zarah, “to glance into that portfolio which lies upon the table.” “Ah!” ejaculated St. Clair; “if you have been makivs any attempts in this department, I can guess what they must be. There was in ancient times a painter of so miserable a talent that he was compelled to write ‘ This is a house,’ or ‘ This is a tree,’ beneath his pictures, to enable a be- holder to understand the subjects of them. Iam afraid, Zarah but Ah! you don’t mean to tell me that you drew this landscape in peneil or this head in crayons?” My gipsy-friend did not immediately answer the questions; and asl again ventured to peep forth, I saw that she was bending over the writing materials which she had before her. Then she passed a sheet of paper across the table to St. Clair,—-saying, “ Do you recognise this little hastily sketched portrait? It is a mere pen and ink out- line - “Why, it is myself!” he exclaimed. But are you sure you have not flattered me to some little extent? I really did not fancy that 1 was quite so good-looking as this profile represents me, However, I can no longer doubt that you are the parent of the drawings in this portfolio, Again I ask, Zarah, what on earth does it all meanP Will you have me understand that beneath the gloss of these superficial accomplishments you possess any more substantial attainments P” “Just haye the goodness to glance your eye over the books on those shelves,” responded Zarah; “and you will see what for some months past has been amongst the subjects of my studies.” j St, Clair rose from his seat; and again ven- turing to peep forth, I beheld him approach an elegant bookcase which was immediately behind the chair that he had just left, At that moment, as his back was turned towards -us, Zarah—who caught a glimpse of my countenance—darted a rapid glance at me,—a glance that was full of triumph, and which seemed to prognosticate the completest success in respect to the ulterior aim, whatever it were, which she had in view. “The histories of England, France, Rome, and Greece,” said St. Clair, musing audibly, as he looked slowly along the shelves: “ works on Natural History, Geography—Gazettsers—Science, Useful Information, the British Poets—a select assort- ment of Novels—Travels, Voyages, Biographies— French Grammars and Elementary Books! Why, Zarah,” he suddenly exclaimed, “if you have crammed your head with all these things, you may with the greatest assurance set up as a blue- stocking. I know a host of ladies who pass for being clever, without half the amount of floating literary capital which you seem to possess. And now perhaps you will tell me whether you have added dancing to your other acgomplishments P” “TJ have,” returned Zarah. “ But as I perceive that you are more than half in the vein to treat the whole matter with ridicule, it is not my pur- pose to afford a proof of my ability in that art.” * And yet why not a waltz?’ exclaimed St. Clair, laughing half gaily, half superciliously. * In default of music, I can hum a tune.” “No,” answered Zarah gravely. ‘After all the proofs I haye given you of the results of my studies in other respects, you may take for granted my skill in the art of dancing.” “ Then be it go,” replied St. Clair, as he re- sumed his seat. ‘ And now, my dear Zarah, as I suppose the exhibition-part of the ceremonies is at an end, you will at length come to an explana- tion of the meaning of all this unless indeed I can guess ?” “Pray afford me the benefit of your conjecture,” said my gipsy-friend. 5 * J will,” rejoined St, Clair. “You know that you are handsome—you possess a fine form—and you are still young enough—for if I mistake nof, you are barely five-and-twenty. Your ambition soared above a gipsy life-—-and you thought you might shine in a certaiysphere in the metropolis, You have a craving for a luxurious mode of exist- ence—to dress well—to live in handsome apart- ments—and perhaps to ride in your carriage. Well, Zarah, all this is laudable enough ; ane I for one,” St. Clair went on to say, speaking somes what more seriously than hitherto, “shall be well pleased to see you in such a position. I under- stand the meaus which you purpose to adopt in order to attain it; and I now comprehend likewise wherefore you desired my presence here this even- ing, and why you have displayed your accomplish- ments, Yes—I will cheerfully assist you in the matter. I will introduce you to a dozen or so of my fashionable male acquaintances; and I have no doubt that you will speedily receive overtures on very handsome terms—so that in the courso of a few weeks I shall behold you tho mistress of some dashing Baroneé or some infatuated old Marquis.” . . “Captain St. Clair,” said Zarah, in a voice which quivered somewhat—and I felt assured it was with suppressed indignation, “if it were not for all that has aforetime taken place between you and me, I should not have listened with even ordinary patience to the remarks you have been addressing to me. But under circumstances I forgive you. No!—once for all learn that I have not devoted myself day and night for upwards of six long months to the task of self-improvemont, for any purpose so vile as that which you have COMMIC | | ee ce en a RN EE 0)(0 (0) ;< com