Penny Dreadfuls, 1856 · page 344 of 399
Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 344: what you’re looking at
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ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, , 331 —-—— « whose happiness and welfare are dearer to me than | should seek to penetrate all the circumstances con- aught in the whole world beside ¥ 4 nected with a catastrophe so deplorable for your- “Yes—they must be!” I murmured, profoundly | self and your amiable daughter. But I regret my affected: and I wiped the tears from my eyes. Inability to give you explanations as fully as per- “When I first broke the intelligence,” pro- | haps you have a right to require them, if not at eeeded Mr. Gower “such were the effects that I | my hands, at least at the hands of Lord Frederick feared for my poor child’s life. She sorrowed and | Ravenscliffe. Yet something of the truth must I wept in a way that nover before had I seen a/ reveal tovou. A little while back Lord Frederick human being sorrow or weep! Her anguish was | Ravenscliffe pledged himself in the most solemn terrible. Mild, docile, and amiable though she be, she gave way to the wildest paroxysms, in which | then abruptly broke off everything. This was up- she bitterly reproached herself for having come to | wards of a year back, and therefore long before he London — me for having brought her—and her | became acquainted with your daughter. Time relations for having recommended the step. Then, | passed on: the other day there was a certain exhausted with the yoleanic power of her mind’s | money matter in which Lord Frederick became agony, she threw herself into my arms, weeping as | seriously involved, and which more or less regarded if her heart would break, and pitedusly imploring | myself. Now, I will confess, Mr. Gower, that I my pardon for all that she had said. Oh! it was | made use of the hold which this circumstance gave a sad scone, Miss Trafford!—the saddest that I have ever known since I knelt by the bedside of my dying wife some years back, and promised that I would always continue a fond and loving father to that dear child of our’s!” “And now, sir,” I said, in a voice tremulous with emotion — “now that nearly ten days have elapsed since the sad catastrophe which so affected your daughter—how fares it with her ?” “She has been ill—very ill,” replied Mr. Gower: but thank heaven, she is better! Yet she still feels deeply—and will long continue to feel the foul wrong that she has sustained. My God! ifa blight were cast upon that young life a “No, no—fear it not!” I exclaimed, anxious to say anything that I could to console the afflicted father. “She is young— youth itself is both | you for having attended to the interests of your sss me over Lord Frederick, to compel him to fulfil to my friend Juliet those solemn and sacred vows— those pledges, oaths, and protestations which he had given to her long before he ever saw your daughter. I have now told you as much as I can reveal upon all these most delicate points; and confident that I am speaking to an honourable man, if is under the seal of secrecy that I am giving you these details. The injunction extends not however so far as to prevent you from making whatsoever statement you may think fit to Miss Gower—though eke aleo must regard it as purely confidential.” “I thank you, Miss Trafford, for these explana- tions,” responded Mr, Gower: “and I must rest satisfied with them. I do not--I cannot blame tne strength and hope a friend, although my own child’s happiness has “Ah! Miss Trafford,” ejaculated Mr. Gower, | been sacrificed as the result!” “it is kind—most kind of you to address me thus| “ Believe me, Mr. Gower,” I exclaimed, “ that and to give me these assurances! But consider | evenif Lord Frederick had not fulfilled bis vows my poor child’s position—and think whether she | to my friend Juliet, I should have revealed every- have not sufficient to rend her heart, Not merely | thing to you, and-the result would have still been have her pure affections sustained a shock—not | the same; for you assuredly would not have in merely has all their first freshness been withered | that ease bestowed your daughter upon the young as flowers by an east wind, or been seared as the | nobleman ?” green tree by lightning—but her pride is wounded ; | “Ob, no! assuredly not!” exclaimed Mr. and to descend to common parlance — without | Gower. ‘“ And now, Miss Trafford, will you seo meaning anything offensive to yourself as the | my daughter? She has heard so much of your friend of her successful rival—she has been jilted | private character A for the sake of a ballet-dancer! Her love hasbeen| “ While the sense of affliction is so fresh in her scorned as it were at the very last moment—her | mind,” I said, “ my presence will perhaps only feelings have been trifled with—she has been tend to reopen the wound all the more poignantly placed in a position most ridiculous and humili- ating ; and it is no wonder that she should declare and acutely. On some future occasion, sir, £ shall be happy to make Miss Gower’s acquaint. she can never again lift up her head amongst her | ance; and L hope that I shall then find that she friends. Indeed, so soon as she can bear the jour- | has forgotten the occurrences which have for the ney, it is our purpose to flee from London—a place | present made so deep an impression upon her.” | now hateful tous! And before we take our de- Mr. Gower shook his head mournfully ; and parture, I would faia learn from your lips how it after a little more conversation I took my leave of happened that Lord Frederick Ravenscliffe could | him. have so suddenly sacrificed my daughter to Miss| The reader may easily suppose that one of Norman the dancer? There are moments when the principal subjects now uppermost in my mind, Felicia herself has thought that she was not beau- | was the appointment which stood with Mr. Parks tiful enough, or sufficiently accomplished, polished, | for the morrow. Within a few hours it was pos- and elegant, to rivet the regard of the young no- | sible that I might become exceedingly rich—the bleman ; and these ideas she occasionally enter- | possessor of the fortune bequeathed to me by my tains, notwithstanding that she thereby inflicts an | grandfather, and which was therefore legitimately additional wound on her own pride by the suppo-|my own. But I scarcely dared speculate on the sition that in all those attractions she was excelled | probability that Mr. Parks would fulfil his en- by her rival.” gagement ;—though on the other hand thera were “Tt is natural, sir,’ I answered, “that you | many reasons, as I have already said, which might —--— = — COUN ebook and sacred matner to my friend Juliet; and he | Eom