Tales and Novels Volume III Part 22

"The opinion of Dr. X----," said Belinda, "must certainly be more satisfactory than mine;" and she repeated what the doctor had left with her in writing upon this subject. "You see," said Belinda, "that Dr.

X----is by no means certain that you have the complaint which you dread."

"I am certain of it," said Lady Delacour, with a deep sigh. Then, after a pause, she resumed: "So it is the doctor's opinion, that I shall inevitably destroy myself if, from a vain hope of secrecy, I put myself into ignorant hands? These are his own words, are they? Very strong; and he is prudent to leave that opinion in writing. Now, whatever happens, he cannot be answerable for 'measures which he does not guide:' nor you either, my dear; you have done all that is prudent and proper. But I must beg you to recollect, that I am neither a child nor a fool; that I am come to years of discretion, and that I am not now in the delirium of a fever; consequently, there can be no pretence for _managing_ me. In this particular I must insist upon managing myself. I have confidence in the skill of the person whom I shall employ: Dr. X----, very likely, would have none, because the man may not have a diploma for killing or curing in form. That is nothing to the purpose. It is I that am to undergo the operation: it is _my_ health, _my_ life, that is risked; and if I am satisfied, that is enough. Secrecy, as I told you before, is my first object."

"And cannot you," said Belinda, "depend with more security upon the honour of a surgeon who is at the head of his profession, and who has a high reputation at stake, than upon a vague promise of secrecy from some obscure quack, who has no reputation to lose?"

"No," said Lady Delacour: "I tell you, my dear, that I cannot depend upon any of these 'honourable men.' I have taken means to satisfy myself on this point: their honour and foolish delicacy would not allow them to perform such an operation for a wife, without the knowledge, privity, consent, &c. &c. &c. of her husband. Now Lord Delacour's knowing the thing is quite out of the question."

"Why, my dear Lady Delacour, why?" said Belinda, with great earnestness.

"Surely a husband has the strongest claim to be consulted upon such an occasion! Let me entreat you to tell Lord Delacour your intention, and then all will be right. Say Yes, my dear friend! let me prevail upon you," said Belinda, taking her ladys.h.i.+p's hand, and pressing it between both of hers with the most affectionate eagerness.

Lady Delacour made no answer, but fixed her eyes upon Belinda's.

"Lord Delacour," continued Miss Portman, "deserves this from you, by the great interest, the increasing interest, that he has shown of late about your health: his kindness and handsome conduct the other morning certainly pleased you, and you have now an opportunity of showing that confidence in him, which his affection and constant attachment to you merit."

"I trouble myself very little about the constancy of Lord Delacour's attachment to me," said her ladys.h.i.+p coolly, withdrawing her hand from Belinda; "whether his lords.h.i.+p's affection for me has of late increased or diminished, is an object of perfect indifference to me. But if I were inclined to reward him for his late attentions, I should apprehend that we might hit upon some better reward than you have pitched upon.

Unless you imagine that Lord Delacour has a peculiar taste for surgical operations, I cannot conceive how his becoming my confidant upon this occasion could have an immediate tendency to increase his affection for me--about which affection I don't care a straw, as you, better than any one else, must know; for I am no hypocrite. I have laid open my whole heart to you, Belinda."

"For that very reason," said Miss Portman, "I am eager to use the influence which I know I have in your heart for your happiness. I am convinced that it will be absolutely impossible that you should carry on this scheme in the house with your husband without its being discovered.

If he discover it by accident, he will feel very differently from what he would do if he were trusted by you."

"For Heaven's sake, my dear," cried Lady Delacour, "let me hear no more about Lord Delacour's feelings."

"But allow me then to speak of my own," said Belinda: "I cannot be concerned in this affair, if it is to be concealed from your husband."

"You will do about that as you think proper," said Lady Delacour haughtily. "Your sense of propriety towards Lord Delacour is, I observe, stronger than your sense of honour towards me. But I make no doubt that you act upon principle--just principle. You promised never to abandon me; but when I most want your a.s.sistance, you refuse it, from consideration for Lord Delacour. A scruple of delicacy absolves a person of nice feelings, I find, from a positive promise--a new and convenient code of morality!"

Belinda, though much hurt by the sarcastic tone in which her ladys.h.i.+p spoke, mildly answered, that the promise she had made to stay with her ladys.h.i.+p during her illness was very different from an engagement to a.s.sist her in such a scheme as she had now in contemplation.

Lady Delacour suddenly drew the curtain between her and Belinda, saying, "Well, my dear, at all events, I am glad to hear you don't forget your promise of _staying_ with me. You are, perhaps, prudent to refuse me your a.s.sistance, all circ.u.mstances considered. Good night: I have kept you up too long--good night!"

"Good night!" said Belinda, drawing aside the curtain, "You will not be displeased with me, when you reflect coolly."

"The light blinds me," said Lady Delacour; and she turned her face away from Miss Portman, and added, in a drowsy voice, "I will _think of what has been said_ some time or other: but just now I would rather go to sleep than say or hear any more; for I am more than half asleep already."

Belinda closed the curtains and left the room. But Lady Delacour, notwithstanding the drowsy tone in which she p.r.o.nounced these last words, was not in the least inclined to sleep. A pa.s.sion had taken possession of her mind, which kept her broad awake the remainder of the night--the pa.s.sion of jealousy. The extreme eagerness with which Belinda had urged her to consult Lord Delacour, and to trust him with her secret, displeased her; not merely as an opposition to her will, and undue attention to his lords.h.i.+p's feelings, but as "confirmation strong"

of a hint which had been dropped by Sir Philip Baddely, but which never till now had appeared to her worthy of a moment's consideration. Sir Philip had observed, that, "if a young lady had any hopes of being a viscountess, it was no wonder she thought a baronet beneath her notice."

"Now," thought Lady Delacour, "this is not impossible. In the first place, Belinda Portman is niece to Mrs. Stanhope; she may have all her aunt's art, and the still greater art to conceal it under the mask of openness and simplicity: _Volto sciolto, pensieri stretti_, is the grand maxim of the Stanhope school." The moment Lady Delacour's mind turned to suspicion, her ingenuity rapidly supplied her with circ.u.mstances and arguments to confirm and justify her doubts.

"Miss Portman fears that my husband is growing too fond of me: she says, he has been very attentive to me of late. Yes, so he has; and on purpose to disgust him with me, she immediately urges me to tell him that I have a loathsome disease, and that I am about to undergo a horrid operation.

How my eyes have been blinded by her artifice! This last stroke was rather too bold, and has opened them effectually, and now I see a thousand things that escaped me before. Even to-night, the Sortes Virgilianae, the myrtle leaf, Miss Portman's mark, left in the book exactly at the place where Marmontel gives a receipt for managing a husband of Lord Delacour's character. Ah, ah! By her own confession, she had been reading this: studying it. Yes, and she has studied it to some purpose; she has made that poor weak lord of mine think her an angel.

How he ran on in her praise the other day, when he honoured me with a morning visit! That morning visit, too, was of her suggestion; and the bank-notes, as he, like a simpleton, let out in the course of the conversation, had been offered to her first. She, with a delicacy that charmed my short-sighted folly, begged that they might go through my hands. How artfully managed! Mrs. Stanhope herself could not have done better. So, she can make Lord Delacour do whatever she pleases; and she condescends to make him behave _prettily_ to me, and desires him to bring me peace-offerings of bank-notes! She is, in fact, become my banker; mistress of my house, my husband, and myself! Ten days I have been confined to my room. Truly, she has made a good use of her time: and I, fool that I am, have been thanking her for all her disinterested kindness!

"Then her attention to my daughter! disinterested, too, as I thought!--But, good Heavens, what an idiot I have been! She looks forward to be the step-mother of Helena; she would win the simple child's affections even before my face, and show Lord Delacour what a charming wife and mother she would make! He said some such thing to me, as well as I remember, the other day. Then her extreme prudence! She never coquets, not she, with any of the young men who come here on purpose to see her. Is this natural? Absolutely unnatural--artifice!

artifice! To contrast herself with me in Lord Delacour's opinion is certainly her object. Even to Clarence Hervey, with whom she was, or pretended to be, smitten, how cold and reserved she is grown of late; and how haughtily she rejected my advice, when I hinted that she was not taking the way to win him! I could not comprehend her; she had no designs on Clarence Hervey, she a.s.sured me. Immaculate purity! I believe you.

"Then her refusal of Sir Philip Baddely!--a baronet with fifteen thousand a year to be refused by a girl who has nothing, and merely because he is a fool! How could I be such a fool as to believe it?

Worthy niece of Mrs. Stanhope, I know you now! And now I recollect that extraordinary letter of Mrs. Stanhope's which I s.n.a.t.c.hed out of Miss Portman's hands some months ago, full of blanks, and inuendoes, and references to some letter which Belinda had written about my disputes with my husband! From that moment to this, Miss Portman has never let me see another of her aunt's letters. So I may conclude they are all in the same style; and I make no doubt that she has instructed her niece, all this time, how to proceed. Now I know why she always puts Mrs.

Stanhope's letters into her pocket the moment she receives them, and never opens them in my presence. And I have been laying open my whole heart, telling my whole history, confessing all my faults and follies, to this girl! And I have told her that I am dying! I have taught her to look forward with joy and certainty to the coronet, on which she has fixed her heart.

"On my knees I conjured her to stay with me to receive my last breath.

Oh, dupe, miserable dupe, that I am! could nothing warn me? In the moment that I discovered the treachery of one friend, I went and prostrated myself to the artifices of another--of another a thousand times more dangerous--ten thousand times more beloved! For what was Harriot Freke in comparison with Belinda Portman? Harriot Freke, even whilst she diverted me most, I half despised. But Belinda!--Oh, Belinda!

how entirely have I loved--trusted--admired--adored--respected--revered you!"

Exhausted by the emotions to which she had worked herself up by the force of her powerful imagination, Lady Delacour, after pa.s.sing several restless hours in bed, fell asleep late in the morning; and when she awaked, Belinda was standing by her bedside. "What could you be dreaming of?" said Belinda, smiling. "You started, and looked at me with such horror, when you opened your eyes, as if I had been your evil genius."

It is not in human nature, thought Lady Delacour, suddenly overcome by the sweet smile and friendly tone of Belinda, it is not in human nature to be so treacherous; and she stretched out both her arms to Belinda, saying, "You my evil genius? No. My guardian angel, my dearest Belinda, kiss me, and forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?" said Belinda; "I believe you are dreaming still, and I am sorry to awaken you; but I am come to tell you a wonderful thing--that Lord Delacour is up, and dressed, and actually in the breakfast-room; and that he has been talking to me this half hour--of what do you think?--of Helena. He was quite surprised, he said, to see her grown such a fine girl, and he declares that he no longer regrets that she was not a boy; and he says that he will dine at home to-day, on purpose to drink Helena's health in his new burgundy; and, in short, I never saw him in such good spirits, or so agreeable: I always thought he was one of the best-natured men I had ever seen. Will not you get up to breakfast? Lord Delacour has asked for you ten times within these five minutes."

"Indeed!" said Lady Delacour, rubbing her eyes. "All this is vastly wonderful; but I wish you had not awakened me so soon."

"Nay, nay," said Belinda, "I know by the tone of your voice, that you do not mean what you say; I know you will get up, and come down to us directly--so I will send Marriott."

Lady Delacour got up, and went down to breakfast, in much uncertainty what to think of Miss Portman; but ashamed to let her into her mind, and still more afraid that Lord Delacour should suspect her of doing him the honour to be jealous, Belinda had not the least guess of what was really pa.s.sing in her ladys.h.i.+p's heart; she implicitly believed her expressions of complete indifference to her lord; and jealousy was the last feeling which Miss Portman would have attributed to Lady Delacour, because she unfortunately was not sufficiently aware that jealousy can exist without love. The idea of Lord Delacour as an object of attachment, or of a coronet as an object of ambition, or of her friend's death as an object of joy, were so foreign to Belinda's innocent mind, that it was scarcely possible she could decipher Lady Delacour's thoughts. Her ladys.h.i.+p affected to be in "remarkable good spirits this morning," declared that she had never felt so well since her illness, ordered her carriage as soon as breakfast was over, and said she would take Helena to Maillardet's, to see the wonders of his little conjuror and his singing-bird. "Nothing equal to Maillardet's singing-bird has ever been seen or heard of, my dear Helena, since the days of Aboulcasem's peac.o.c.k in the Persian Tales. Since Lady Anne Percival has not shown you these charming things, I must."

"But I hope you won't tire yourself, mamma," said the little girl.

"I'm afraid you will," said Belinda. "And you know, my dear," added Lord Delacour, "that Miss Portman, who is so very obliging and good-natured, _could_ go just as well with Helena; and I am sure, _would_, rather than that you should tire yourself, or give yourself an unnecessary trouble."

"Miss Portman is very good," answered Lady Delacour, hastily; "but I think it no unnecessary trouble to give my daughter any pleasure in my power. As to its tiring me, I am neither dead, nor dying, _yet_; for the rest, Miss Portman, who understands what is proper, blushes for you, as you see, my lord, when you propose that she, who is not _yet_ a married woman, should _chaperon_ a young lady. It is quite out of rule; and Mrs.

Stanhope would be shocked if her niece could, or would, do such a thing to oblige any body."

Lord Delacour was too much in the habit of hearing sarcastic, and to him incomprehensible speeches from her ladys.h.i.+p, to take any extraordinary notice of this; and if Belinda blushed, it was merely from the confusion into which she was thrown by the piercing glance of Lady Delacour's black eyes--a glance which neither guilt nor innocence could withstand.

Belinda imagined that her ladys.h.i.+p still retained some displeasure from the conversation that had pa.s.sed the preceding night, and the first time that she was alone with Lady Delacour, she again touched upon the subject, in hopes of softening or convincing her. "At all events, my dear friend," said she, "you will not, I hope, be offended by the sincerity with which I speak--I _can_ have no object but your safety and happiness."

"Sincerity never offends me," was her ladys.h.i.+p's cold answer. And all the time that they were out together, she was unusually ceremonious to Miss Portman; and there would have been but little conversation, if Helena had not been present, to whom her mother talked with fluent gaiety. When they got to Spring Gardens, Helena exclaimed, "Oh! there's Lady Anne Percival's carriage, and Charles and Edward with her--they are going to the same place that we are, I dare say, for I heard Charles ask Lady Anne to take him to see Maillardet's little bird--Mr. Hervey mentioned it to us, and he said it was a curious piece of machinery."

"I wish you had told me sooner that Lady Anne was likely to be there--I don't wish to meet her so awkwardly: I am not well enough yet, indeed, to go to these odious, hot, close places; and, besides, I hate seeing sights."

Helena, with much good humour, said that she would rather give up seeing the sight than be troublesome to her mother. When they came to Maillardet's, however, Lady Delacour saw Mrs. ---- getting out of her carriage, and to her she consigned Helena and Miss Portman, saying that she would take a turn or two in the part, and call for them in half an hour. When the half hour was over, and her ladys.h.i.+p returned, she carelessly asked, as they were going home, whether they had been pleased with their visit to the bird and the conjuror. "Oh, yes, mamma!" said Helena: "and do you know, that one of the questions that the people ask the conjuror is, _Where is the happiest family to be found?_" And Charles and Edward immediately said, "if he is a good conjuror, if he tells truth, he'll answer, 'At Oakly-park.'"

"Miss Portman, had you any conversation with Lady Anne Percival?" said Lady Delacour, coldly.

"A great deal," said Belinda, "and such as I am sure you would have liked: and so far from being a ceremonious person, I think I never saw any body who had such easy engaging manners."

"And did she ask you, Helena, again to go with her to that place where the happiest family in the world is to be found?"

"Oakly-park?--No, mamma; she said that she was very glad that I was with you; but she asked Miss Portman to come to see her whenever it was in her power."

"And could Miss Portman withstand such a temptation?"

"You know that I am engaged to your ladys.h.i.+p," said Belinda.

Lady Delacour bowed. "But from what pa.s.sed last night," said she, "I was afraid that you might repent your engagement to me: and if so, I give up my bond. I should be miserable if I apprehended that any one, but more especially Miss Portman, felt herself a prisoner in my house."

"Dear Lady Delacour! I do not feel myself a prisoner; I have always till now felt myself a friend in your house; but we'll talk of this another time. Do not look at me with so much coldness; do not speak to me with so much politeness. I will not let you forget that I am your friend."

"I do not wish to forget it, Belinda," said Lady Delacour, with emotion; "I am not ungrateful, though I may seem capricious--bear with me."