Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 133: what you’re looking at

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

eee ee eee LLL LLL LLL LLL LALO LLL LLL LED A LOLOL A A ee a ee ee ee ee” 120 her likewise all the furniture if contained: but she said that the establishment was too large for her—that she likewise coveted a more secluded spot—and that she should hire some neat little villa in the neighbourhood of London. Henry and I (generally accompanied by my father) visited several country-seats within a range of twenty or thirty miles of the metro- polis; and at length we found one which we thought would suit our views, inclinations, and resources. I need not however enter into many details upon the point: suffice it to say that Mr. Wilkinson was instructed to take measures for the purchase of the freehold, to examine the title deeds, and to conduct the business with the least possible delay. Three weeks had elapsed since the return of Henry Wakefield from Paisley; and the prelimi- naries for our bridal were being settled. In three weeks more would dawn the day which was ap- pointed for that ceremony! It was not to be solemnized with pomp or eclat: on the contrary, it was to be as private as possible. Mary Glent- worth and two other young ladies of my acquaint- ance were to officiate as bridemaids; Mr. Norman and Lady Frederick Ravenscliffe were to arrive from Dover to be present at the ceremony; Major Gower and his beautiful wife Aline were also to be with us on the occasion. My father (still passing before the world as an uncle only, and bearing the name of Forsyth) was to give me away ;—and in addition to those already named, the Marquis and Marchioness of Campanella and the Countess of Carboni were to favour us with their company. I might mention some other little details in connexion with the preparations for the wedding—but it is unnecessary: indeed it were needless to have given any such explanations at all, if it were not to show the reader how mat- ters were progressing, and to what an extent the fond hopes and anticipations of Henry and myself were by circumstances encouraged. Three weeks, I said, had elapsed since Henry’s return from Paisley ; and it wanted but a couple of days to the expiration of the period over which the notice ranged for the dissolution of partnership. On the particular morning of which I am now about to speak, I was sitting in the library, at about ten o’clock, with my father, who had called early—indeed he had arrived at breakfast time, that he might communicate some tidings of a favourable character in reference to the little do- main which Mr. Wilkinson had been directed to purchase. For not many minutes had I been there closeted with my father, when there was a loud and apparently an impatient double-knock at | the front door; and in a few moments Henry burst into the library. Distress was depicted on his countenance, and -his manner was much ex- cited. I was alarmed: my father also was ter- rified ; and flying towards Henry, I besought him to tell me what was the matter. Poor Mr. Macdonald,” exclaimed Henry, “he 1s ruined !—irretrievably ruined !” “ Ruined P” I ejaculated. “ Oh! indeed, Henry, this would prove afflicting intelligence !—for never, never shall 1 forget how kind and good a friend he was to you !” “Yes,” proceeded my cousin, “I fear that be is ruined! Indeed, I am sufliciently acquainted ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS, and then too the loss at Paisley with his affairs itself “But what could have produced this sudden and terrible catastrophe ?”’ asked my father. “The great American house of Rawlins and Sydney at New York, with its branch at Liver. pool, has stopped payment—literally gone to pieces, it is believed, without the prospect of pay- ing a single shilling in the pound! And then too si “ Yes—I remember to have heard you speak of that firm before, Henry,” said my father. “You thought it a very wealthy one?” “ And so did everybody !” exclaimed Henry. “ But this is not all!—misfortunes never come alone! There has been a tremendous conflagra: tion at Mr. Macdonald’s principal factory—by some unaccountable oversight Mr. Perkins his head clerk had omitted to pay the insurance- premium which fell due a few days previously ; and thus x4 “These are indeed dreadful tidings!” I ex- claimed : “ but still, my dear Henry, perhaps after all you need not despair on your kind friend’s ac- count P” : “Alas!” exclaimed Henry, with anguish de- picted upon his countenance; “look at these letters !—one written by himself—the other by the very clerk whose culpable neglect has entailed so frightful a loss! Yes, yes—the unfortunate Mac- donald is a ruined man! Oh, to think that a property so immense as this was the other day, should suddenly fall in like a house of cards !” “Ah! while pitying poor Macdonald and his family,” I exclaimed, “ yet must I sincerely con- gratulate you, my dear Henry, that you have es- caped the ruin in which you might have become involved, and which indeed wouid have been inevi- table had that partnership continued !’’ “ Ah!” suddenly ejaculated my father, who had caught up and was reading the letters which Henry had flung down upon the table; “ what does this meanP Did you note the postscrip$ to the letter written by Perkins, nS Macdonald’s clerk ?” “ What postcrint P” asked ese? “T scarcely read the letter through! I was so distressed—in- deed I felt half distracted on poor Mr. Macdonald’s account, when having read the letter announcing the failure of Rawlins and Co., I opened this second letter—I mean the one from Perkins—— But what says the postscript P” “ Henry, recollect!” cried my father vehe- mently, “ on what day was it. that you signed or served the notice for the dissolution of partner- ship ?” “T recollect perfectly !” exclaimed Henry, with a sudden start as if he were galvanized by a presentiment of evil. “I¢ was the tenth of July.” “ And this,” exclaimed my father, “is only the seventh of August! Oh! Henry, Henry !” “ Father,” I cried, smitten with affright, “ you do not apprehend—you do not conjecture “ Good heavens! can it be possible ?” moaned Henry. “No! no!—such a horrible cala- mity “ Alas!” ejaculated my father, “I fear the very worst. - Yes!—there is no doubt upon the point !—for you, unhappy boy, are to all intents —— a CORNICLOOOKS c) (E(0)