Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 47: what you’re looking at

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—— a ae 34 ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. bing so bitterly—that at the time I had but avery dim comprehension of what Zarah was saying,— though afterwards I was enabled fully to recall every syllable that had been thus spoken. “ And now farewell, my dear friend !” she said, her voice becoming tremulous with emotion for the first time throughout this interview : “ we are about to part, never to meet again in this world ! May heaven bless you, Ellen !—may God in his mercy shower his choicest gifts upon your head, for you deserve them all! Farewell, my sweet friend! Leave me quickly——or this parting will be more than I ean endure !” I carried her hand to my lips—I coyered it with kisses and with tears. Feryidly did she press my hand in return; and then again she said, “ Leave mé, Ellen !—leave me, I conjure you !” I staggered forth from the chamber, reeling like a tipsy person—my heart rent with the most tor- turing pangs—my oo a@ prey to the most pas- sionate grief, How I found my way down the staircase, I scarcely remember: but on the land- ing below I met the maid who had been gent to fetch me—and she sustained me to the cab which was waiting to bear me home. I felt exceedingly ill: I had no power for deliberate reflection—my brain was a confused whirl of harrowing and dis- tracting thoughts; and on reaching Great Ormond Street, I was at once compelled to seek my cham- ber. Mary Glentworth and Beda were so alarmed on my account, that they sent for a neighbouring physician, who prescribed some medicine calculated to soothe the excited nerves, and under the opiate influence of which I speedily fell into 9 profound slumber. When I awoke in the morning, I was languid and depressed—all my energies seemed prostrated —and it was even some time before I could give utterance to a word: moreover in one sense I feared to breathe the inquiry which in another sense I longed to put. At length I asked if any tidings had been received in reference to Mrs. St. Clair, and if the morning newspapers had yet arrived? It appeared that no message of any kind had been delivered, and that the newspapers were late. I at once sent off a domestic to make inquiries relative to the invalid: but during the interval the journals were brought in, and a para- graph in two brief lines recorded the death of Mrs. St. Clair: a presentiment had prepared me for the intelligence: but still it came upon me with a shock which even for a few minutes pre- vented the tears from finding a vent; but at last they gushed forth, and I wept copiously to the memory of my perished friend. All the good offices I had ever received at her hands swept vividly in unto my memory: I thought likewise of the numerous excellent qualities which she had possessed, and I deplored her fate. Before my own domestic returned from the Re- gent’s Park, the late Mrs. St. Clair’s lady’s-maid arrived in Great Ormond Street; and she sought a private interview with me. This was the same confidential person who on the previous evening had fetched me to the death-bed of her mistress. I saw that she had been weeping—she was much affected—and some little interval elapsed, after we were alone together, before she could enter upon the explanations which she had come to give. “And Mrs. St. Clair is gone?” I said. just now read her death in the newspaper “ “Yes, Miss Percy,” responded the maid; “she breathed her last precisely at the hour of mid- night. And Oh, it wasso sudden! Iwas scarcely five minutes absent from the room—it really seems as if death struck her as if with a lightning- stroke Af “ Indeed!” I said: “so suddenly as this ?” “Yes, Miss Perey. The death of my poor mis- tress was not only sudden, but it was attended with circumstances which I searcely know whether to describe as more strange or more affecting ——” “Strange circumstances?” I asked—and I know not how it was, but some peculiar and be- Wildering suspicion arose in my mind: yet it was searcely a suspicion—it was a spegies of vague bewildering uneasy thought that the singular character of Zarah had been destined to haye something mysterious associated with it uptil the very last. % ee ae “TI will tell you all, Miss Perey,” resumed the lady’s-maid ; for 1 know that my mistress loved you very much—and almost the last words she spoke were in reference to yourself.” ' © Proceed,” I said, deeply affected, but also in- spired with a solemn curiosity. ~ © Soon alter you had left the house last night, Miss Perey,” continued the maid, “ my mistress said that Fi felt death to be approaching. The physicians begged her to entertain a hope that it would be otherwise—for that her constitution was strong and her health had throughout life been vigorous, so thai there was every reason to anti- cipate that she might successfully battle against the effects of the injuries she had sustained. I was present in the room at the time: her husband was also there. In reply to the physicians she spoke with a serene firmness. She said that she herself could best tell what she felt—that she gave her medical attendants all possible credit for the professional knowledge which prompted their opinion and the kindness with which they had enunciated if, but that her own sensations, alike mental and physical, told her that she had re- ceived a shock from which she never could re- cover. Then I saw that the countenances of the physicians became grave and serious; and I feit convinced that they recognised only too fatally and despondingly the probable truth of the words jusé spoken by their patient. Mrs. St. Clair de- sired to be left alone with her husband, that she might take of him a last farewell; for she said that she already had the sensation as if life were ebbing away. ‘The physicians and I accordingly retired; and she was left alone witk her hus- band.” *And how long did this parting interview last P” I inquired. “Probably half-an-hour,” replied the lady’s- maid. “At the end of that time Mr. St. Clair came forth with his kerchief to his eyes; and I saw that he was weeping bitterly.” “The hypocrite!” I thought within myself. “Oh, heavens! was if not monstrous that this dissimulation should be continued until the very last P” “On thus coming forth from my mistress’s chamber,” continued the maid, “ Captain St. Clair bade me nut enter thither for the present, for that eT Gomichdoo (E(0)