# The Wanderer (Burney)/Volume 4/Chapter 60

THE
WANDERER.
BOOK VII.
CHAPTER LX.
Juliet was precipitately followed by Lord Melbury.
"It is not, then," he cried, "your intention to return to Mrs. Ireton?"
"No, my lord, never!"
She had but just uttered these words, when, immediately facing her, she beheld Mrs. Howel.
A spectre could not have made her start more affrighted, could not have appeared to her more horrible. And Lord Melbury, who earnestly, at the same moment, had pronounced, "Tell me ​whither, then,—" stopping abruptly, looked confounded.
"May I ask your lordship to take me to Lady Aurora?" Mrs. Howel coldly demanded.
"Aurora?—Yes;—she is there, Ma'am;—still in the gallery."
Mrs. Howel presented him her hand, palpably to force him with her; and stalked past Juliet, without any other demonstration of perceiving her than what was unavoidably manifested by an heightened air of haughty disdain.
Lord Melbury, distressed, would still have hung back; but Mrs. Howel, taking his arm, proceeded, as if without observing his repugnance.
Juliet, in trembling dismay, glided on till she entered a vacant apartment, of which the door was open. To avoid intrusion, she was shutting herself in; but, upon some one's applying, nearly the next minute, for admittance, the fear of new misconstruction forced her to open the door. What, then, ​was her shock at again viewing Mrs. Howel! She started back involuntarily, and her countenance depicted undisguised horrour.
With a brow of almost petrifying severity, sternly fixing her eyes upon Juliet, Mrs. Howel, for a dreadful moment, seemed internally suspended, not between hardness and mercy, but between accusation and punishment. At length, in a tone, from the deep sounds of which Juliet shrunk, but had no means to retire, she slowly pronounced, while her head rose more loftily at every word, "You abscond from Mrs. Ireton, though she would permit you to remain with her? 'Tis to Lord Melbury that you reveal your purpose; and the inexperienced youth whom you would seduce, is the only person that can fail to discover your ultimate design, in taking the moment of meeting with him, for quitting the honourable protection which snatches you from want, if not from disgrace: at the same time that it offers security to a noble ​family, justly alarmed for the morals, if not for the honour of its youthful and credulous chief."
The terror which, in shaking the nerves, seemed to have clouded even the faculties of Juliet, now suddenly subsided, superseded by yet more potent sensations of quick resentment. "Hold, Madam!" she cried: "I may bear with cruelty and injustice, for I am helpless! but not with insult, for I am innocent!"
Mrs. Howel, surprised, paused an instant; but then harshly went on, "This cant, young woman, can only delude those who are ignorant of the world. Whatever you may chuse to utter to me of that sort will be perfectly null. What I have to say is simple; what you have to offer must, of course, be complicate. But I have no time to throw away upon rants and rodomontades, and I have no patience to waste upon impostors. Hear me then without reply."
"Not to reply, Madam, will cost me ​little," indignantly cried Juliet: "but to hear you,—pardon me, Madam,—force only can exact from me so dreadful a compliance."
She looked round, but not having courage to open a further door, nor power to pass by Mrs. Howel, walked to a window.
Not heeding her resistance, and disdaining her emotion, Mrs. Howel continued: "My Lord Melbury is not, it is true, like his sister, under my immediate care; but he is here only to join her ladyship, whom my Lord Denmeath has entrusted to my protection. And, therefore, though he is as noble in mind as in rank, since he is still, in years, but a boy, I must, in honour, consider myself to be equally responsible to my Lord Denmeath for the brother as for the sister. This being the case, I must not leave him to the machinations of an adventurer. In two words, therefore,—Declare yourself for what you are; or return with Mrs. Ireton to Brighthelm​stone, and remain under her roof, since she deigns to permit it, till I have restored my young friends, safe and uninjured, to their uncle. Otherwise———"
Juliet, casting up her eyes, as if calling upon heaven for patience, would have opened the window, to seek refuge in the air from sounds of which the shock was insupportable: but Mrs. Howel, offended into yet deeper wrath, advanced with a mien of such rigid austerity, that she lost her purpose in her consternation, and listened irresistibly to what follows: "Otherwise,—mark me, young woman! the still unexplained mystery with which you have made your way into the kingdom, will authorise an application which you will vainly try to elude, and with which you will not dare to prevaricate. You will take your choice, and, in five minutes, you will be summoned to make it known."
With this menace she left the room.
In an agony of terrour, that again ab​sorbed even resentment, Juliet remained motionless, confounded, and incapable of deliberation, till the groom of Mrs. Ireton came to inform her that his lady was ready to set out.
Juliet, scarcely herself knowing her own intentions, precipitately ejaculated, "The crisis is arrived!—I must cast myself upon Lady Aurora!"
The servant said he did not understand her.
"Tell Lady Aurora—;" she cried, "or Lord Melbury,—no, Lady Aurora,—" she stopt, fearfully balancing upon which to fix.
The groom asked what he was to say.
"You will say,—I must beg you to say,—" cried Juliet, endeavouring to recollect herself, "that I desire,—that I wish,—that I take the liberty to request that Lady Aurora will have the goodness to honour me,—that I shall be eternally obliged if her ladyship will honour me with a few moment"s conversation!"
​The groom went; and almost the next instant, she heard the fleet step of Lady Aurora approaching, and her soft voice, with unusual emphasis, pronounce, "Pardon me, dear Madam, but I could not refuse her for a thousand worlds!"
"She ought not to refuse her, Mrs. Howel!" added, with fervency, the voice of Lord Melbury; "in humanity, in justice, in decency, Aurora ought not to refuse her! Whatever may be your fears of objections to an intimacy, there can be none to common civility; for though we know not what Miss Ellis has been, we see what she now is;—a pattern of elegance, sweetness, and delicacy."
"A moment, my lord!—one moment, Lady Aurora!" answered Mrs. Howel; "we may be overheard here;—honour me with a moment's attention in another room." She seemed drawing them away, and not a word more reached Juliet.
A dreadful ten minutes preceded any ​farther information: a quick step, then, followed by a tap at the door, re-awakened at once terrour and hope. She awaited, motionless, its opening, but then saw neither the object she desired, nor that which she dreaded; neither Lady Aurora nor Mrs. Howel, but Lord Melbury.
Affrighted by the threatened vengeance of Mrs. Howel, but irresistibly charmed by his generous defence, and trusting esteem, Juliet looked so disturbed, yet through her disturbance so gratified, that Lord Melbury, evidently much agitated himself, approached her with a vivacity of pleasure that he did not seek to repress, and could not have disguised.
"Miss Ellis will, I am sure, forgive my intrusion," he cried, "when I tell her that it is made in the name of my sister. Aurora is grieved past all expression not to wait upon you herself; but Mrs. Howel is in such haste to depart, from her fear of travelling after sun-set, ​that it is not possible to detain her. Poor Aurora sends you a thousand apologies, and entreats you not to think ill of her for appearing thus unfeeling—"
"Think ill of Lady Aurora?" interrupted Juliet, "I think her an angel!—"
"She is very near it, indeed!" cried Lord Melbury, ardently; "as near it, I own, as I wish her; for I don't see, without wings, and flying to heaven, how she can well be nearer! However, since you are so kind, so liberal, as to do her that justice, would it be possible that you could communicate, through me, what you had the goodness to intend saying to her? She is quite broken-hearted at going away with an appearance of such unkindness. Can you give her this consolation?"
"Oh, my lord!" answered Juliet, with an energy that shewed off all guard, "if I might hope for Lady ​Aurora's support—for your lordship's protection,—with what transport would my o'er-burthened heart,—" Seized with sudden dread of Mrs. Howel, she stopt abruptly, and fearfully looked around.
Enchanted by a prospect of some communication, Lord Melbury warmly exclaimed, "Miss Ellis, I swear to you, by all that I hold most sacred, that if you will do me so great an honour as to trust me to be the bearer of your confidence to my sister, no creature upon earth, besides, shall ever, without your permission, hear what you may unfold! and it shall be my whole study to merit your good opinion, and to shew you my respect."
"O my lord! O Lord Melbury," cried Juliet, "what hopes, what sweet balsamic hopes you pour into my wounded bosom! after sufferings by which I have been nearly,—nay, through which I have even wished myself demolished!—"
Lord Melbury, inexpressibly touched, ​eagerly, yet tenderly, answered, "Name, name what there is I can be so happy as to do! Your wishes shall be my entire direction. And if I can offer you any services, I shall console Aurora, and, permit me to say, myself, still more than you."
"I will venture, then, my lord,—I must venture!—to lay open my perilous situation!—And yet I may put your feelings,—alas!—to a test, alas, my lord!—that not all your virtues, nor even your compassion may withstand!"
Trembling almost as violently as she trembled herself, from impatience, from curiosity, from charmed interest, and indescribable wonder, Lord Melbury bent forward, so irresistibly and so palpably to take her hand, that Juliet, alarmed, drew back; and, calling forth the self-command of which her sorrows, her terrours, and her hopes had conjointly bereft her, "If I have been guilty," she cried, "of any indiscretion, my lord, in this hasty, almost involun​tary disposition to confidence,—excuse,—and do not punish an errour that has its source only in a—perhaps—too high wrought esteem!—"
Starting with a look nearly of horrour, "You kill me," he cried, "Miss Ellis, if you suspect me to be capable, a second time, of dishonouring the purest of sisters by forgetting the respect due to her friend!—"
"No, my lord, no!" warmly interrupted Juliet; "whatever you think dishonourable I am persuaded your lordship would find impracticable: but the stake is so great,—the risk so tremendous,—and failure would be so fatal!—"
Her preturbation now became nearly overpowering; and, not with standing she was prepared, and resolved, to disclose herself, her ability seemed unequal to her will, and her breast heaved with sighs so oppressive, that though she frequently began with—"I will now,—I must now,—" she strove vainly to finish her sentence.
​After anxiously and with astonishment waiting some minutes, "Why does Miss Ellis thus hesitate?" cried Lord Melbury. "What can I say or do to remove her scruples?"
"I have none, my lord, none! but I have so solemnly been bound to silence! and . ."
"Oh, but you are bound, now, to speech!" cried he, with spirit; "and, to lessen your inquietude, and satisfy your delicacy, I will shew you the way to openness and confidence, by making a disclosure first. Will you, then, have more reliance upon my discretion?"
"You are too,—too good, my lord!" cried Juliet, again brightening up; "but I dream not of such indulgence: 'tis to your benevolence only I apply."
"Oh, but I have a fancy to trust you! Aurora will be delighted that I should have found such a confidant. Yet I have nothing positive,—nothing fixed,—to say, it is but an idea,—a thought,—a kind of distant perspective . . ."
​He coloured, and looked embarrassed, yet evidently with feelings of pleasure.
A radiant smile now illumined the face of Juliet, "Ah! my lord," she cried, "if I might utter a conjecture,—I had almost said a wish—."
"Why not? cried he, laughing."
"Your lordship permits me?—Well, then, let me name—Lady Barbara Frankland?—"
"Is it possible?" cried he, while the blood mantled in his cheeks, and pleasure sparkled in his eyes; "what can have led you to such a thought? How can you possibly have suspected . . . She is still so nearly a child. . . ."
"It is true, my lord, but, also, how amiable a child! how richly endowed with similar qualities to those which, at this instant, engage my gratitude!—"
He bowed, with smiling delight. "I will not deny," he cried, "that you have penetrated into my secret; though as yet, in fact, it is hardly even a secret; for we have not,—hitherto,—you will ​easily believe, conversed together upon the subject! Nor shall we say a word about it, together, till I have made the tour. But I will frankly own, that we have been brought up from our very cradles, with this notion, mutually. It was the wish of my father even in our infancy.—"
"Hold it then sacred!" cried Juliet, with strong emotion. "Happy, thrice happy, in such a wish for your guide!"
She burst into tears.
"How your sorrows," said he, tenderly, "affect me! and how they interest me more deeply every moment! Tell me, then, sweet Miss Ellis!—amiable friend of my sister!—tell me why you are thus afflicted? and how, and in what manner, there is the least possibility that I may offer you my services, or procure you any consolation?"
The door here was abruptly opened by Mrs. Howel.
Red with constrained rage, yet assuming a courteous demeanour, "Your lord​ship will pardon," she cried, "my intrusion;" but Lady Aurora is so delicate, that I am always uneasy at keeping her ladyship out late."
Highly provoked, yet deeply confused, Lord Melbury stammered that he was extremely sorry to have detained them, and begged that they would set out; promising to follow immediately.
Civilly smiling, though fixing her eyes upon his face in a manner that doubled his embarrassment, she entreated him to use his own influence with Lady Aurora, to prevail upon her ladyship to proceed.
Too much perturbed to resist, he ran out of the room; casting a glance at Juliet, as he passed, expressive of his chagrin at this interruption, and full of sensibility and respect.
Juliet dreadfully affrighted, and utterly confounded, had hid her streaming eyes, and conscious blushes, with her handkerchief, upon the entrance of Mrs. Howel; but, when left alone with that ​tremendous lady, mingled terrour and indignation would have urged immediate flight, had she not been apprehensive of seeming to follow, and clandestinely, Lord Melbury.
Benign had been as yet the countenance, and melody itself the voice of Mrs. Howel, compared with the expression of the one, or the sound of the other, while she now pronounced the following words: "The terms, young woman, that I would keep with a person of name and character; the honour and delicacy due to myself in any intercourse with such a one, I set wholly aside in treating with an adventurer. I know all that has passed! I have heard every syllable! Convinced, therefore, of your deep laid scheme, to captivate to his disgrace a youth of an illustrious house, by revealing to him a pretended tale, which you craftily refuse to trust to all who may better judge, or try, its truth; I shall take, without delay, such measures as it behoves should be taken, by a friend of his family, and of himself, to ​effectually open his eyes to your arts, and to his own danger. In one word, therefore, Will you, and this instant, return to Brighthelmstone under the superintendence of Mrs. Ireton?"
"No, Madam!" Juliet, without hesitation, replied.
"Enough! I shall myself take in charge, then, that you do not quit the castle, till the arrival of a peace-officer; who may conduct you where you may make your confession with rather more propriety than to a young nobleman!"
Neither native courage, nor resentment of hard usage, could support Juliet against a menace such as this. She changed colour, and sunk, terrified, upon a chair.
Mrs. Howel, after a moment's pause, magisterially moved to the door; whence she took the key, which was within side, and was leaving the room; but Juliet, struck with horrour at such a preparation for confinement, started up, exclaiming, "If you reduce me, Madam, ​to cry for help, I must cast myself at once upon the protection of Lord Melbury;—and then assure yourself,—be very sure! he will not suffer this outrage!"
"This affrontery exceeds all credibility! Assure yourself, however, young woman, and be very sure, in return! that I shall not be intimidated by an imposter, from detecting imposition; nor from consigning it to infamy!"
With a scoffing smile of power, she then left the room, locking the door without.
Consternation alone had prevented Juliet from rushing past her, and forcing a passage; though such violence was as opposite to her nature, as to propriety, and to the habits of her sex.
Alone, and a prisoner, the first reflexion that found way through her disturbance, served less to diminish her terrour than to awaken new alarm. It represented to her all the blighting horrours of calumny, in being known to ​place her confidence in Lord Melbury, while forced to exact that he himself should guard her secret. She felt as if cast upon a precipice, from which, though a kind hand might save, the least imprudence might precipitate her downfall. She struggled for fortitude, she prayed for patience. What, indeed, she cried, are any sufferings that Mrs. Ireton can inflict, compared with those I am flying? If I must submit to transient tyranny, or hazard incurring misery as durable as my existence,—can I hesitate to which I shall yield?
Hastily, now, she looked for the bell, and rang it repeatedly, till some one through the door demanded her orders.
"Acquaint Mrs. Ireton," she answered, "that I am ready to attend her to Brighthelmstone."
The door was almost instantly unlocked, and Mrs. Howel again appeared. "I deign not, young woman," she sternly said, "to enquire into the reasons, the arts, or the apprehensions that ​may have induced your repentance: I am aware that whatever you would tell me is precisely what I ought not to believe. I come merely to give you notice that, if you venture to attempt keeping up any sort of correspondence with Lady Aurora Granville, or with Lord Melbury, nothing can save you from detection and punishment. Mark me well! You will be properly watched."
She then retired, shutting, but no longer locking the door.
All of philosophy, of judgment, or of forbearance that the indignant Juliet possessed, was nearly insufficient to keep her firm to her concession upon an harangue thus insulting. Necessity, however, inculcated prudence. I will await, she cried, better days! I will learn my ultimate doom ere I seek any mitigation to my passing sorrows. If all end well,—this will be as nothing!—forgive and forgotten at once! If ill,—in so overwhelming a weight of woe, 'twill be still less material!
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