Читать книгу Mystery & Confidence - Elizabeth Sibthorpe Pinchard - Страница 9

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And with them words of so sweet breath composed

As made the things more rich.

Hamlet.

Ellen was engaged the next morning with her needle when Mordaunt suddenly entered the room (for the ceremony of announcing visitors was never thought of at Llanwyllan): she rose hastily, as hastily sat down again, turned pale, then red, and in answer to his hasty inquiries, said—"Are you alone, Sir?" "Alone," replied Mordaunt, surprized beyond measure; "yes, certainly: did you expect to see anyone with me?" "Yes—no, that is, I thought we were told that Mrs. Mordaunt, that your wife was to come with you." "My wife!" exclaimed Mordaunt, turning first as red and then as pale as Ellen had done, almost in the words of Othello, and perhaps not perfectly unlike him in feeling; "What wife? I have no wife." "I beg your pardon, indeed," said Ellen, "for giving you such a strange reception, but we were really told that your lady was certainly coming with you." "What could have given rise," said Mordaunt, regaining his composure, "to such a ridiculous tale? And did you, Ellen, could you believe it?" "I own I thought it strange," replied she, "that you had never mentioned it, and I doubted the truth of the story; but Joanna seemed to credit it, and I was told Mrs. Ross had asserted it, but I daresay," added she, smiling, "that it was one of those gossip's tales of which we have so many in this village." Mordaunt said he was wholly unable to account for it, and advancing to the table where she had been sitting, for hitherto they had both continued standing, said—"Shall I disturb you if I sit down by you for half-an-hour?" "Certainly not," said Ellen: "you will allow me to go on with my work." But Ellen's hand did not second her intention, for it shook so much, she was obliged to put down the work, and to say, half laughing, by way of covering her confusion—"I have flurried myself so ridiculously by fancying I was going to see a stranger, that I must rest till my hand is a little more steady." Mordaunt, for the first time, took the trembling hand within his own, and pressing it very gently, said:—"You have not shaken hands with me on my return, Ellen, yet I hoped you would have been glad to see your friend Mordaunt once more: will you allow me the title?" he added, gazing on her intently. Poor Ellen, who had not really any of the usual complimentary phrases, such as "you do me honour, &c." knew neither which way to look nor what to say; and Mordaunt, softly raising her hand to his lips, relinquished it, and pitying her visible confusion, endeavoured to relieve it by saving:—"I think you are a little, a very little paler and thinner than when I left Llanwyllan." "I have been taking a great deal of exercise," said Ellen; "and I think you too, Mr. Mordaunt, are changed: you look pale, and seem fatigued." "Oh yes, Ellen, yes; I have encountered much since we parted—much fatigue both of body and mind. In these sweet shades I hope once more to be at peace: oh, that I might never leave them more, 'the world forgetting, by the world forgot;' that I might, that I could remain here for ever! Would you, Ellen, would you endeavour to sooth my cares, and to restore my peace of mind?" He again seized her hand, and wildly grasping, pressed it to his throbbing forehead. Ellen looked at him with eyes of apprehension; his energy, his apparent agitation alarmed her: he saw the surprize he had excited, and dropping her hand, said:—"Forgive me, I am not myself to-day; but I must indeed be lost before I can for a moment forget the perfect respect I owe you." His countenance became at once more composed, and after a moment's pause, he said smiling:—"And how is the poor straw hat which I spoilt the night before I went away?" "Indeed you did not spoil it," said Ellen, laughing; "it would not easily be injured." "Oh, certainly, it was completely spoilt, and as I was the author of the mischief, though you would not give me any commission for Bristol or Bath, I could not resist the desire I felt to replace the loss which I know you cannot do here, and I have accordingly chosen one for you, which, though extremely simple, will, I am sure, be particularly becoming: I have also added one for Joanna, not exactly like your's in shape, because it would be ridiculous; I mean it would not be becoming to her style of face." "You are too good: I am sorry you should have had so much trouble." "Oh, the trouble certainly of doing any thing for you and your friend must be insupportable; terrible as it was, however, if you will do me the favour of wearing this simple bonnet I shall think it overpaid: there is also a little parcel for Mrs. Ross: and some books for our good friend Mr. Ross: nor have I forgotten my first and truly valued friend your father: his little remembrance I shall take the liberty of sending here; but shall I order the box with the other things to Mr. Ross's or here?" "Mrs. Ross and Joanna are going to pass this afternoon with me," said Ellen; "if you will therefore persist in taking so much trouble, we will examine our presents, which are, I dare say, very elegant." "I thank you a thousand times for not reproving my presumption in fancying I could chuse a hat for you. I will send the box presently, and when the contents have been looked at, may I join your little party and walk with you?" "Certainly; we shall be glad of your company." Mordaunt soon after went away, though Powis, who came in, and seemed heartily glad to see him, pressed him to partake their homely fare at dinner, but promising to come again in the afternoon, Mordaunt declined staying then. Powis was haunted by no fears on his daughter's account: his open hospitable temper made him always ready to receive the stranger, and he saw not far enough into the human heart to suspect that one so eminently gifted by nature and improved by art, as Mordaunt was, must have some paramount inducement to fix himself for two or three months amongst the woods of Llanwyllan. Honest, simple, and credulous, he implicitly believed what Mordaunt had told him respecting his health, and the delight he took in the wild scenery around the village; and pleased with his company, would willingly have had him a constant inmate of his house; yet he doated on, and highly appreciated Ellen; but he fancied that Charles Ross had gained her affections, and looked forward to her marriage with him as a thing determined on. Ellen felt a little awkward on the subject of the bonnet, for she had never mentioned to Mrs. Ross or Joanna that Mordaunt had spent two or three hours at the Farm the night before he left Llanwyllan; as to the straw hat, it was, in reality, not injured, although he chose to fancy it was spoilt by way of excuse for ordering another; she, therefore, did not like to mention the circumstance at all, dreading Mrs. Ross's sharp questions and Joanna's looks; in fact, she did not wish to mention the intended presents, and half resolved to appear surprized when the box arrived: this, however, her natural dislike to deceit deterred her from attempting, though Joanna's late conduct had taught her a reserve she never before had felt towards her. The moment dinner was over Ellen went to her chamber, where she took unusual pains in dressing herself as nicely as her very moderate wardrobe would allow; a neat plain white gown or two being the extent of her finery. Mrs. Ross would seldom allow Ellen or Joanna to wear any thing better than a grey stuff, or small printed calico, yet in spite of her expected rebuke, the very best white gown was this afternoon put on; her hair was nicely and delicately arranged under a cap smaller than those she usually wore; for going without a cap or hat, was, in Mrs. Ross's idea, quite bold and improper. Neither Joanna nor Ellen had ever seen a feather or artificial flower, except once, when mere children, Powis had taken them for a few days to Carnarvon, where a few were exhibited; but as to wearing any, they would as soon have thought of putting on diamonds, so different were their simple ideas from those of the very fine ladies we now see every day walking or riding to market, with their ear-rings and necklaces, fine lace frills, green veils, au parasols: expect them soon with foot-boys at their heels. Yet Powis could have given his daughter a thousand pounds; and Ross, though not rich, was in a station of life which might have entitled Joanna to expect some little indulgences, of which, however, she never even thought. Two or three small bows of pale pink ribbon were the only ornament of Ellen's caps, and her slender waist was surrounded by a short sash of the same colour; a bouquet of late roses and jessamine was placed in her bosom; and the gentle agitation of her spirits animated her eyes and complexion: she looked exquisitely lovely; so fresh—so new—so bright—the poet might have said of her—"she looked like Nature in the world's first spring." She had just completed her nosegay, when Mrs. Ross and Joanna arrived; the former with a new assortment of work prepared for Ellen's completion, who sighed when she saw the quantity to be executed. "Bless me, Ellen," said Mrs. Ross; "why you are dressed up as fine as a lady; one would think you were going to a wedding or a christening.—I hope you have not invited Mrs. Price and Mrs. Howel to-day," (the wives of two neighbouring farmers, who drank tea once or twice a year with Ellen and the Ross's) "for I am come in my old gown, and Joanna in her every-day cotton: why, child, are you dressed so much?" "I don't know, ma'am: I thought my coloured gown was dirty, and the day was so fine and warm, I thought this would be cooler." "Umph," said Mrs. Ross, looking at her with eyes sharpened by curiosity, and then nodding at Joanna, as much as to say you see I was right, she drew up her head and was silent a moment; then, by her next question, shewing the turn her thoughts had taken, she said: "Has Mr. Mordaunt been here?" "Yes, ma'am," said poor Ellen, blushing like crimson. "Umph," again said Mrs. Ross, and again she nodded at Joanna. Joanna, looking slily at Ellen, added, while she could hardly refrain from laughing—"And his wife?" "No," said Ellen, looking up at Joanna, and smiling, for she could not help being diverted at the oddity of her tone and look. Just at this moment in came the maid with a small parcel and a large bonnet-box, which, she said, a boy had brought from Dame Grey's. "God bless my heart," said Mrs. Ross, "why that is the very box I saw at Mr. Mordaunt's, and which made me fancy he was married." Ellen explained as well as she could, but certainly not very clearly, what the contents were; and Joanna was so diverted with the absurdity of the report raised by such a trifle, that she burst into a loud and incontrollable fit of laughing, in which Ellen heartily joined; and though Mrs. Ross scolded, and was quite angry that they would not cease laughing and open the box, they laughed on, when the door opened, and in came Mordaunt. He supposed the box had been received and opened an hour before, not knowing his messenger had stopped to play by the way, and was quite astonished to see them gathered round it, the two girls laughing, and Mrs. Ross half scolding and half laughing too. He was hastily retreating; but his presence operated like an electric shock on the whole party. Ellen was half ashamed; and Mrs. Ross and Joanna, who always felt a degree of awe from the dignity of his manner, were afraid he would be offended: the former endeavoured to explain the cause of their mirth; and Mordaunt no sooner heard what had given rise to the report which had so much perplexed him, than—"Albeit unused to the laughing mood," he could not keep his countenance. The explanation, however, was not unpleasant to him, for he had been quite at a loss to guess how any report of him, whether true or false, could have reached Llanwyllan. The box was now opened, a ceremony at which Mordaunt would willingly not have been present, though he certainly wished to see whether the hat was becoming to Ellen.

Both hats were of straw, equally fine; but that intended for Ellen had an elegant simplicity in the form, which seemed made on purpose for her. At the bottom of the box was found a parcel, directed for Mrs. Ross, which contained a handsome dark sarsnet for a gown, with which the good lady was so delighted, that she quite overwhelmed Mordaunt with thanks and compliments, to which he put a stop by requesting to see the bonnets on their respective owners.

"I am not dressed fit to wear such a bonnet," said Joanna, glancing her eyes on Ellen; "but—" "Aye," said Mrs. Ross, "very true: I believe you knew your bonnet was trimmed with pale pink, Ellen, and put on those ribbons on purpose to match it." "No, indeed," said Ellen, half hurt at the suggestion. Mordaunt saw with what unusual care she was adorned, and could not help being pleased at it. He was himself drest with particular nicety, and was really as handsome and fine a figure as Ellen was beautiful. The bonnets were tried on, and highly approved. Ellen, indeed, was, if possible, improved by hers. The parcel for Powis contained some handsome articles of plate likely to be useful to him; and Mr. Ross's books, which were sent to the Parsonage, consisted of Eschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles, uniformly and elegantly bound, and of superior editions. Thus the taste of all parties seemed to have been consulted, and every one of course was pleased with the kind attention.