Ellen Percy; or, The Memoirs of an Actress — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

EEE ELLEN PERCY; OR, THE MEMOIRS OF AN ACTRESS. 47 nobleman, in a tone tremulous with emotions; ‘it required but an angel-voice such as yours to lift me completely up from the depths into which I have been plunging! Yours is the voice of sin- cerest friendship: you rebuke me for my misdeeds —but you tell me that there is hope for me in the future: My God! that I could ever have gone wrong! But by heaven! it was not alto- gether my fault. Not upon others would I un- justly throw the blame of my own delinquencies ; but judge whether I speak not truly when I de- elare that my father’s frivolities and my mother’s imperiousness first drove me from home by ren- dering that home intolerable. Then what was I todo? I naturally associated with young men in my own sphere; and they led me astray. Most solemnly do I swear to you, Miss Percy, that I have gone forth from Ardleigh House of an even- ing when if my home had been comfortable I would infinitely rather have remained within its walls. I have sought the society of dissipated young men about town—not because I preferred it, but because it presented itself as the only re- source. I have drunk deep of wine because others drank, although my heart sickened at it after the few first glasses. I have gambled and thrown my money about, because others around me did the same, and I felt that if I sought that society I was bound to follow its example. On! believe me therefore—since you have permitted me to make these confessions—since you have listened to them with patience—and I think— I hope, not altogether without sympathy,—be- lieve me, I say, my reformation is an easier task than you may have supposed : but even if it were the most difficult ever undertaken by man, I swear that it should be accomplished !” It was impossible to listen to this speech, so frank, so genuine, and so sincere in its depth of feeling, without being moved: it was likewise im- possible for me to avoid expressing myself ina kind and encouraging manner after having at the outset expostulated with the young nobleman so severely and so mercilessly. “My lord,’ I therefore said, “it is with a friendly sympathy that I have listened to you; for I know that when our acquaintance began some eighteen or twenty months ago, you possessed the loftiest sentiments and the most generous dispo- sition. Neither have I forgotten certain kind services which you rendered towards myself. It is therefore with satisfaction I have heard all those confessions, avowals, and assurances from your lips; and I repeat I shall watch your future career with a friendly interest. Butnow, my lord, tell me—for what special purpose did you seek the present interview ?” * Oh, Miss Percy!” he exclaimed, “I had a thousand things to say to you! I wished to speak to you of her whom I sincerely love as if she were my legitimately-born sister! She is well-prin- cipled and virtuous. She believed that in Clarence Beauchamp she had an honourable suitor; and in her artless confidence she consented to meet me from time to time. But if ever I sought to be- stow even the simplest token which a lover may offer to the object of his affections—a kiss or the pressure of a hand—her natural modesty recoiled ; and she invariably by the very purity of her cha- racter kept me at adistance. I will now confess Oe ee ane that the very difficulties that I thus encountered in the prosecution of my villanous design, piqued me, urged me on, and made me feel as if it were almost a point of honour that I should persevere until I might achieve success. Thank God that Mary was thus right-principled, and that my wicked persistence was so timeously bafiled as it was yesterday! All these assurances I have just given you for your satisfaction, that you may the better know how to appreciate the good qualities, the innate chastity, and the correct principles of your bosom friend Mary.” I was indeed delighted to learn those things from Dalrymple’s lips; for favourably as I had before thought of Mary Glentworth’s conduct, she now stood infinitely higher in my estimation. I could scarcely now accuse her of even a display of the slightest weakness: I could only think of her as one whose too confiding nature and unsuspecting artlessness had rendered her incautious. “ And now tell me, Miss Percy,” continued Her- bert, “how does poor Mary support the blows which have smitten her ?” “With courage and fortitude,’ I answered. * But I will not deceive you, my lord: she enter- tains bitter feelings against the entire house of Ardleigh !” “And this sum which my mother proposes through Mr. Wilkinson’s agency xs “T am convinced that Mary will not in her pre- sent frame of mind accept it. But Mr. Wilkinson and I have agreed upon a plan, according to which the little fortune may be invested for her benefit so as to be available on any future occasion.” “ Heaven be thanked!” exclaimed the young Marquis fervently. “But tell me, Miss Perey— may I not hope ere leaving England that she will see me—that we may meet as brother and sister & “Do not think of it, my lord!” I replied. “TI have already told you that I will not deceive you— nor would I unnecessarily wound your feelings, for I see that they are already deeply lacerated. You cannot hope to have an interview with Mary: she is bitter against yourself as well as against your parents; and if I give you this assurance, it is only that you may not persevere in any idea that you may have formed to obtain a parting interview with her.” * No, no! Iwill not!” said the young Marquis: “7 will do nothing against youradvice. But you, Miss Percy, will continue to watch over her—you will continue to be her friend—and in whatsoever circumstances she may be placed ” “ Fear not, my lord,” I interrupted him, “ that I shall ever be otherwise to your half-sister than I now am. Circumstances as well as inclinations have riveted between us the bonds of sincerest affection, I was with her at the time when her mother died—I then obtained for her a home at the house of Mrs. Oldcastle, a relative of mine— and when this lady also died, Mary took up her abode altogether with me, first in Hunter Street, and subsequently where I now dwell.” ‘¢Yes—all these particulars has Mary at different times told me,” responded the Marquis; “and she has ever spoken to me in sisterly terms of you. I know therefore that with you she will be happy——”" “Tt is my duty to inform you of one thing,” 1 CCORMIC OOK (©)