Tales and Novels Volume X Part 44

"Supposing the letters to be acknowledged by you, still it would be quite a different affair. But in the first place look at them, they may be forgeries. You will tell me if they are forgeries?"

And he placed the packet in her hands. Scarcely looking at the writing, she answered, "No, forgeries I am sure they are not." The general looked again at the direction of the cover, and observed, "This is a feigned hand. Whose can it be?"

Helen was on the brink of saying that Cecilia had told her it was like the writing of Carlos. Now this cover had not, to the general's knowledge, been seen by Cecilia, and that one answer might have betrayed all that she was to conceal, for he would instantly have asked how and when did Cecilia see it, and the cause of her fainting would have been then understood by him. Such hazards in every, even the first, least, step in falsehood; such hazard in this first moment! But she escaped this peril, and Helen answered: "It is something like the writing of the page Carlos, but I do not think all that direction is his. There seem to be two different hands. I do not know, indeed, how it is?"

"Some time or other it will come out," said the general.

"I will keep this cover, it will lead to the direction of that boy, or of whoever it was that employed him."

To give her further time the general went on looking at the miniature, which he held in his hand. "This is a beautiful likeness," said he, "and not ill painted--by Cecilia, was not it?"

Helen looked at it, and answered, "Yes, by Cecilia."

"I am glad it is safe," said the general, "restored--Cecilia told me the history. I know that it was stolen, not given by you."

"Given!" said Helen. "Oh no! stolen."

"Base!" said the general.

"He was base," answered Helen.

General Clarendon held in his hand, along with the picture, one letter separated from the rest, open; he looked at it as if embarra.s.sed, while Helen spoke the last words, and he repeated, "Base! yes, he certainly was, or he would have destroyed these letters."

Again Helen was on the point of saying that Colonel D'Aubigny had told Cecilia he had done so, but fortunately her agitation, in default of presence of mind, kept her silent.

"This is the first letter I opened," said the general, "before I was aware that they were not what I should read. I saw only the first words, I thought then that I had a right to read them. When these letters met my eyes, I conceived them to have been written by my wife. I had a right to satisfy myself respecting the nature of the correspondence; that done, I looked no farther. I bore my suspense--I waited till she awoke."

"So she told me, Cecilia has told me all; but even if she had not, in any circ.u.mstances who could doubt your honour, General Clarendon?"

"Then trust to it, Miss Stanley, for the past, for the future, trust to it! You gratify me more than I can express--you do me justice. I wished to return these letters to you with, my own hand," continued he, "to satisfy myself, in the first place, that there was no mistake. Of that your present candour, indeed, the first look of that ingenuous countenance, was sufficient."

Helen felt that she blushed all over.

"Pardon me for distressing you, my dear Helen. It was a matter in which a man MUST be selfish,_ must_ in point of honour, _must_ in point of feeling, I owe to your candour not merely relief from what I could not endure and live, but relief from suspicion,--suspicion of the truth of one dearer to me than life."

Helen sat as if she had been transfixed.

"I owe to you," continued he, "the happiness of my whole future life."

"Then I am happy," cried Helen, "happy in this, at all events, whatever may become of me."

She had not yet raised her eyes towards the general; she felt as if her first look must betray Cecilia; but she now tried to fix her eyes upon him as he looked anxiously at her, and she said, "thank you, thank you, General Clarendon! Oh, thank you for all the kindness you have shown me; but I am the more grieved, it makes me more sorry to sink quite in your esteem."

"To sink! You do not: your candour, your truth raises you----"

"Oh! do not say that----"

"I do," repeated the general, "and you may believe me. I am incapable of deceiving you--this is no matter of compliment. Between friend and friend I should count a word, a look of falsehood, treason."

Helen's tears stopped, and, without knowing what she did, she began hastily to gather up the packet of letters which she had let fall; the general a.s.sisted her in putting them into her bag, and she closed the strings, thanked him, and was rising, when he went on--"I beg your indulgence while I say a few words of myself."

She sat down again immediately. "Oh! as many as you please."

"I believe I may say I am not of a jealous temper."

"I am sure you are not," said Helen.

"I thank you," said the general. "May I ask on what your opinion is founded?"

"On what has now pa.s.sed, and on all that I have heard from Lady Davenant."

He bowed. "You may have heard then, from Lady Davenant, of some unfortunate circ.u.mstances in my own and in a friend's family which happened a short time before my marriage?"

Helen said she had.

"And of the impression these circ.u.mstances made on my mind, my consequent resolve never to marry a woman who had ever had any previous attachment?"

Helen was breathless at hearing all this repeated.

"Were you informed of these particulars?" said the general.

"Yes," said Helen, faintly.

"I am not asking, Miss Stanley, whether you approved of my resolution; simply whether you heard of it?"

"Yes--certainly."

"That's well. It was on an understanding between Cecilia and myself on this point, that I married. Did you know this?"

"Yes," said Helen.

"Some words," continued the general, "once fell from Lady Davenant concerning this Colonel D'Aubigny which alarmed me. Cecilia satisfied me that her mother was mistaken. Cecilia solemnly a.s.sured me that she had never loved him." The general paused.

Helen, conceiving that he waited for and required her opinion, replied, "So I always thought--so I often told Lady Davenant." But at this moment recollecting the words at the beginning of that letter, "My dear, too dear Henry," Helen's voice faltered. The general saw her confusion, but attributed it to her own consciousness. "Had Lady Davenant not been mistaken," resumed he, "that is to say had there ever been--as might have happened not unnaturally--had there ever been an attachment; in short, had Cecilia ever loved him, and told me so, I am convinced that such truth and candour would have satisfied me, would have increased--as I now feel--increased my esteem. I am at this moment convinced that, in spite of my declared resolution, I should in perfect confidence, have married."

"Oh that Cecilia had but told him!" thought Helen.

"I should not, my dear Miss Stanley," continued the general, "have thus taken up your time talking of myself, had I not an important purpose in view. I was desirous to do away in your mind the idea of my great strictness--not on my own account, but on yours, I wished to dispel this notion. Now you will no longer, I trust, apprehend that my esteem for you is diminished. I a.s.sure you I can make allowances."

She was shocked at the idea of allowances, yet thanked him for his indulgence, and she could hardly refrain from again bursting into tears.

"Still by your agitation I see you are afraid of me," said he, smiling.

"No indeed; not afraid of you, but shocked at what you must think of me."

"I am not surprised, but sorry to see that the alarm I gave my poor Cecilia this morning has pa.s.sed from her mind into yours. To her I must have appeared harsh: I _was_ severe; but when I thought I had been deceived, duped, can you wonder?"

Helen turned her eyes away.