Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 225: what you’re looking at

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

LLL TEE el 212 ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. sm which had the effect of cheating the laws of my country of their due, yet shall they be regarded with the strictest honour and integrity.” * Ah, Miss Percy,’ he exclaimed—and it was evident that an immense weight was lifted from his mind,—* this was only what I expected from your sense of justice! Good h€avens! I have suffered enough! and I beseech you to prove for: bearing in the presence of my dear daughter! Do not give vent to accusations too terrible for her to hear !” _ I understood what the wretched man meant: he was significantly imploring me not to charge him in bis daughter’s presence with the murder of my grandsire Mr. Forsyth. I was at once struck by a sense of what must have been all the filial con- duct of that excellent young woman towards her unhappy father: I remembered her poverty, as I had heard the tale from the lips of Mr. Richards —how she had visited the pawnbroker’s to pledge some trifling article of raiment, and how great had been her distress when she found that she could not raise precisely the sum that she required. Then I recalled to mind how in my dressing-room at the theatre she had implored me not to use my infiu- ence with Mr. Richards to deprive her of her bread as there was some one who was dependent upon her, and this one I now found to be her father! Everything told a tale of a daughter’s struggles to maintain an impoverished sire—of deep filial re- gard for a failen parent! Could I say or do any- thing to plunge a dagger into the heart of this admirable young woman? No—I could not! “ Miss Parks,” I said, turning towards her, and speaking in a tremulcus voice, for my soul was filled with emotions, “Ido not wish to render this scene more unpleasant to you than I can possibly help. But youand I must have no misunderstand- ing between us. You must knowmewell! You must learn to believe that I had naught but the kinaest feelings when I endeavoured to display my Sympathy towards you! Your father must now tell you in my presence that I have never done him an undeserved wrong. Has he not already confessed that he surrendered up my fortune >— does he not therefore prove by his own words that he had deprived me of it ?” “Yes, yes—it is true!” said Jane Parks, evi- dently staggered and even dismayed by this appeal to her common sense as well as to the stubborn presence of facts. “Ob, Miss Percy, if I have wronged you ¥ “You hare,” I said; “and though not fora single instant did I suspect who you could pos. sibly be at the time when you levelled such strange accusations against me in my dressing-room at the theatre.—yet was I amazed and bewildered, as well as confident that you were labouring under some error; for I knew that there was no being in the world whom [I had wilfully or wantonly injured to an extent justifying one-thousandth part of the complaints which found their vent from your lips.” “Ah, Miss Percy!” said the young woman, “I do indeed begin to fear - “ Nay—but you must be convinced!” I ejacu- ated. “Mr. Parks, we will not enter into parti- cularsin the presence of your daughter. For the sake of this admirable young woman I am only too willing to spare you. — Or But the truth you must | confess, that I may be disabused in her estimation! Say, then, have I ever done you an undeserved injury? Speak, sir! I insist upon your answer !” “Say no more, Miss Percy,” interjected Jane, bursting into tears. “ My father’s looks only too well corroborate the truth of your averments. Accept, therefore, the humblest and most contrite apologies from one who is incapable of doing you or any other living creature a studied injustice ! Permit me to take your hand,” I at once gave her my hand, and I pressed hers with warmth and effusion. The tears were rain- ing down her cheeks, and her bosom was convulsed with sobs. It went to my heart to behold this spectacle of grief on the part of one whose con- duct I knew to be most exemplary ; and as she took and pressed my hand to her lips, I stooped down and imprinted a kiss upon her forehead. “ Now, Jane,” i said, “ have the kindness to withdraw for a little while. It is absolutely ne- cessary I should have some discourse with your father * * But tell me, Miss Perey—relieye my mind from suspense !” she said; “for I am now haunted with horrible fears. My father has debts—if his ereditors knew where to find him——” * Ab, I understand!” I exclaimed. “ You wish to know how I discovered your residence ?” “ Was it through the jeweller ?” she inquired : “is it possible that he has proved treacherous ?” * No,” I responded: “ it was not through him that I was directed hither. A young servant of mine followed you the day before yesterday from Holborn “0 “ Ah!” she ejaculated: “ there was a moment when I thought that a young girl with a dark veil over her countenance, was watching meas I issued forth from that jeweller’s shop: but I afterwards fancied that it was a false alarm = “Yet your surmise was correct,” I rejoined. “That was my servant.” , “And did she call at the jeweller’s shop,” in- quired Jane Parks, eagerly, “about two months ago—a day or two after that scene in your dressing-room ? —and did she put questions to that jeweller, — questions which though not ac- tually pointed, nevertheless rendered him sus- picious er “ Yes—it was my servant,” I responded. “ But the jeweller said nothing to betray you.” “ And why did you seek my abode ?” she quickly inquired. “I wished to come to explanations with you—to learn the cause of those charges which you levelled against me—to assure you of your error—to offer you my friendship! In reference to my visit here to-day, I need only add that my servant followed you the day before yesterday, and tracked you to this house. My object in seeking you was still the same ; for little did I suspect who you really were, of whom I should meet here:’—and I glanced towards her father. “ J, in my turn, must give you a few words of explanation,” said Miss Parks. “ That jeweller had received large sums of money from our family ; and although in our poverty his niggard- ness prevented him from opening his purse for our succour, he consented to receive any letters which might be addressed to his abode for me. The letter which your servant must have seen me CORNICLOOOLK< (F©)