Tales and Novels Volume X Part 54

"To be sure;--well?"

"And Katrine naturally hates every body that is going to be married. If you were to see the state she is in always reading the announcements of Marriages in High Life! Churchill, I do believe, had Miss Stanley's intended match put into every paper continually, on purpose for the pleasure of plaguing Katrine; and if you could have seen her long face, when she saw it announced in the Court Gazette--good authority, you know--really it was pitiable."

"I don't care, I don't care about that--Oh pray go on to the facts about Helen."

"Well, but the fact is as I tell you; you wanted to know what sufficient cause for vengeance, and am not I telling you? If you would not get into such a state of excitement!--as Sir Sib says excitements should be avoided. La! my dear," continued Lady Castlefort, looking up at her with unfeigned astonishment, "what agitation! why, if it were a matter that concerned yourself----"

"It concerns my friend, and that is the same thing."

"So one says; but--you look really, such a colour."

"No matter what colour I look," cried Cecilia; "go on."

"Do you never read the papers?" said Lady Castlefort.

"Sometimes," said Lady Cecilia; "but I have not looked at a paper these three days; was there any thing particular? tell me."

"My dear! tell you! as if I could remember by heart all the scandalous paragraphs I read." She looked round the room, and not seeing the papers, said, "I do not know what has become of those papers; but you can find them when you go home."

She mentioned the names of two papers, noted for being personal, scandalous, and scurrilous.

"Are those the papers you mean?" cried Lady Cecilia; "the general never lets them into the house."

"That is a pity--that's hard upon you, for then you never are, as you see, _au courant du jour_, and all your friends might be abused to death without your knowing it, if some kind person did not tell you."

"Do tell me, then, the substance; I don't want the words."

"But the words are all. Somehow it is nothing without the words."

In her now excited state of communicativeness, Lady Castlefort rose and looked all about the room for the papers, saying, "They were here, they were there, all yesterday; Katrine had them showing them to Lady Masham in the morning, and to all her blue set afterwards--Lord knows what she has done with them. So tiresome looking for things! how I hate it."

She rang the bell and inquired from the footman if he knew what had become of the papers. Of course he did not know, could not imagine--servants never know, nor can imagine what have become of newspapers--but he would inquire. While he went to inquire, Lady Castlefort sank down again into her _bergere_, and again fell into admiration of Cecilia's state of impatience.

"How curious you are! Now I am never really curious about any thing that does not come home to myself; I have so little interest about other people."

This was said in all the simplicity of selfishness, not from candour, but from mere absence of shame, and utter ignorance of what others think--what others feel, which always characterises, and often betrays the selfish, even where the head is best capable of supplying the deficiencies of the heart. But Louisa Castlefort had no head to hide her want of heart; while Cecilia, who had both head and heart, looked down upon her cousin with surprise, pity, and contempt, quick succeeding each other, in a sort of parenthesis of feeling, as she moved her eyes for a moment from the door on which they had been fixed, and to which they recurred, while she stood waiting for the appearance of those newspapers. The footman entered with them. "In Mr. Landrum's room they were, my lady."

Lady Cecilia did not hear a word that was said, nor did she see that the servant laid a note on the table. It was well that Louisa had that note to read, and to answer, while Cecilia looked at the paragraphs in these papers; else her start must have been seen, her exclamation must have been heard: it must have been marked, that the whole character of her emotion changed from generous sympathy with her friend, to agony of fear for herself. The instant she cast her eyes on that much-read paper, she saw the name of Colonel D'Aubigny; all the rest swam before her eyes.

Lady Castlefort, without looking up from her writing, asked--What day of the month? Cecilia could not answer, but recalled to herself by the sound of the voice, she now tried to read--she scarcely read the words, but some way took the sense into her mind at a glance.

CHAPTER VI.

The first of these paragraphs caught the eye by its t.i.tle in capital letters.

"LA BELLE FIANCeE.

"Though quite unknown in the London world, this young lady cannot fail to excite some curiosity among our fas.h.i.+onables as the successful rival of one whom the greatest painter of the age has p.r.o.nounced to be _the fairest of the fair_--the Lady B. F. This new _Helen_ is, we understand, of a respectable family, niece to a late dean, distinguished for piety much and virtu more. It was reported that the niece was a great heiress, but after the proposal had been made, it was discovered that Virtu had made away with every s.h.i.+lling of her fortune. This made no difference in the eyes of her inamorato, who is as rich as he is generous, and who saw with the eyes of a youth 'Of Age to-morrow.' His guardian, a wary general, demurred--but _nursery tactics_ prevailed. The young lady, though she had never been out, bore the victory from him of many campaigns. The day for the marriage was fixed as announced by us--But we are concerned to state that a _postponement_ of this marriage for _mysterious reasons_ has taken place. Delicacy forbids us to say more at present."

Delicacy, however, did not prevent their saying in the next paper in a paragraph headed, "MYSTERY SOLVED," "We understand that in the course of a few days will appear the 'Memoirs of the late Colonel D----y; or, _Reminiscences of a Roue_, well known in the Fas.h.i.+onable World.' This little volume bids fair to engross the attention of the higher circles, as it contains, besides innumerable curious, personal, and secret anecdotes, the original love letters of a certain _belle fiancee_, now residing with a n.o.ble family in Grosvenor Square."

Lady Cecilia saw at once the whole dreadful danger--her own letters to Colonel D'Aubigny they must he! How could they have got them? They would be seen by her husband--published to the whole world--if the general found out they were hers, he would cast her off for ever. If they were believed to be Helen's--Helen was undone, sacrificed to her folly, her cowardice. "Oh! if I had but told Clarendon, he would have stopped this dreadful, dreadful publication." And what falsehoods it might contain, she did not even dare to think. All was remorse, terror, confusion--fixed to the spot like one stupified, she stood. Lady Castlefort did not see it--she had been completely engrossed with what she had been writing, she was now looking for her most sentimental seal, and not till she had pressed that seal down and examined the impression, did she look up or notice Cecilia--Then struck indeed with a sense of something unusual--"My dear," said she, "you have no idea how odd you look--so strange, Cecilia--quite _ebahie!_" Giving two pulls to the bell as she spoke, and her eyes on the door, impatient for the servant, she added--"After all, Cecilia, Helen Stanley is no relation even--only a friend. Take this note--" to the footman who answered the bell; and the moment he left the room, continuing, in the same tone, to Lady Cecilia, she said--"You will have to give her up at last--that's all; so you had better make your mind up to it."

When Lady Cecilia tried to speak, she felt her tongue cleave to the roof of her mouth; and when she did articulate, it was in a sort of hoa.r.s.e sound. "Is the book published?" She held the paper before Lady Castlefort's eyes, and pointed to the name she could not utter.

"D'Aubigny's book--is it published, do you mean?" said Lady Castlefort.

"Absolutely published, I cannot say, but it is all in print, I know. I do not understand about publis.h.i.+ng. There's something about presentation copies: I know Katrine was wild to have one before any body else, so she is to have the first copy, I know, and, I believe, is to have it this very morning for the people at this breakfast: it is to be the _bonne bouche_ of the business."

"What has Katrine to do with it?--Oh, tell me, quick!"

"Dear me, Cecilia, what a fuss you are in!--you make me quite nervous to look at you. You had better go down to the breakfast-room, and you will hear all about it from the fountain-head."

"Has Katrine the book or not?" cried Lady Cecilia.

"Bless me! I will inquire, my dear, if you will not look so dreadful."

She rang and coolly asked--"Did that man, that bookseller, Stone, send any parcel or book this morning, do you know, for Lady Katrine?"

"Yes, my lady; Landrum had a parcel for Lady Katrine--it is on the table, I believe."

"Very well." The man left the room. Lady Cecilia darted on the brown paper parcel she had seen directed to Lady Katrine, and seized it before the amazed Louisa could prevent her. "Stop, stop!" cried she, springing forward, "stop, Cecilia; Katrine will never forgive me!"

But Lady Cecilia seizing a penknife, cut the first knot. "Oh, Cecilia, I am undone if Katrine comes in! Make haste, make haste! I can only let you have a peep or two. We must do it up again as well as ever,"

continued Lady Castlefort, while Lady Cecilia, fast as possible, went on cut, cut, cutting the packthread to bits, and she tore off the brown paper cover, then one of silver paper, that protected the silk binding.

Lady Castlefort took up the outer cover and read, "To be returned before two o'clock."--"What can that mean? Then it is only lent; not her own.

Katrine will not understand this--will be outrageously disappointed.

I'm sure I don't care. But here is a note from Stone, however, which may explain it." She opened and read--"Stone's respects--existing circ.u.mstances make it necessary her ladys.h.i.+p's copy should be returned.

Will be called for at two o'clock."

"Cecilia, Cecilia, make haste! But Katrine does not know yet--Still she may come up." Lady Castlefort rang and inquired,--

"Have they done breakfast?"

"Breakfast is over, my lady," said the servant who answered the bell, "but Landrum thinks the gentlemen and ladies will not be up immediately, on account of one of the ladies being _performing_ a poem."

"Very well, very good," added her ladys.h.i.+p, as the man left the room.

"Then, Cecilia, you will have time enough, for when once they begin performing, as Sylvester calls it, there is no end of it."

"Oh Heavens!" cried Cecilia, as she turned over the pages, "Oh Heavens!

what is here? Such absolute falsehood! Shocking, shocking!" she exclaimed, as she looked on, terrified at what she saw: "Absolutely false--a forgery."

"Whereabouts are you?" said Lady Castlefort, approaching to read along with her.

"Oh, do not read it," cried Cecilia, and she hastily closed the book.

"What signifies shutting the book, my dear," said Louisa, "as if you could shut people's eyes? I know what it is; I have read it."