Pelham — Complete
Page 76
CHAPTER LXXVI.
But wilt thou accept not The worship the heart lifts above And theHeavens reject not, The desire of the moth for the star, Of the nightfor the morrow, The devotion to something afar From the sphere of oursorrow?--P. B. Shelley.
It was not with a light heart--for I loved Glanville too well, not tobe powerfully affected by his history and approaching fate--but witha chastised and sober joy, that I now beheld my friend innocent of theguilt my suspicions had accused him of, and the only obstacle to mymarriage with his sister removed. True it was that the sword yet hungover his head, and that while he lived, there could be no rationalassurance of his safety from the disgrace and death of the felon. In theworld's eye, therefore, the barrier to my union with Ellen wouldhave been far from being wholly removed; but, at that moment, mydisappointments had disgusted me with the world, and I turned with adouble yearning of heart to her whose pure and holy love could be atonce my recompence and retreat.
Nor was this selfish consideration my only motive in the conduct I wasresolved to adopt; on the contrary, it was scarcely more prominent in mymind, than those derived from giving to a friend who was now dearerto me than ever, his only consolation on this earth, and to Ellen, thesafest protection, in case of any danger to her brother. With these, itis true, were mingled feelings which, in happier circumstances, mighthave been those of transport at a bright and successful termination to adeep and devoted love; but these I had, while Glanville's very life wasso doubtful, little right to indulge, and I checked them as soon as theyarose.
After a sleepless night, I repaired to Lady Glanville's house. It waslong since I had been there, and the servant who admitted me, seemedsomewhat surprised at the earliness of my visit. I desired to see themother, and waited in the parlour till she came. I made but a scantyexordium to my speech. In very few words I expressed my love to Ellen,and besought her mediation in my behalf; nor did I think it would bea slight consideration in my favour, with the fond mother, to mentionGlanville's concurrence with my suit.
"Ellen is up stairs in the drawing-room," said Lady Glanville. "I willgo and prepare her to receive you--if you have her consent, you havemine."
"Will you suffer me, then," said I, "to forestal you? Forgive myimpatience, and let me see her before you do."
Lady Glanville was a woman of the good old school, and stood somewhatupon forms and ceremonies. I did not, therefore, await the answer, whichI foresaw might not be favourable to my success, but with my customaryassurance, left the room, and hastened up stairs. I entered thedrawing-room, and shut the door. Ellen was at the far end; and as Ientered with a light step, she did not perceive me till I was close by.
She started when she saw me; and her cheek, before very pale, deepenedinto crimson. "Good Heavens! is it you," she said, falteringly "I--Ithought--but--but--excuse me for an instant, I will call my mother."
"Stay for one instant, I beseech you--it is from your mother that Icome--she has referred me to you." And with a trembling and hurriedvoice, for all my usual boldness forsook me, I poured forth, in rapidand burning words, the history of my secret and hoarded love--itsdoubts, fears, and hopes.
Ellen sunk back on her chair, overpowered and silent by her feelings,and the vehemence of my own. I knelt, and took her hand; I covered itwith my kisses--it was not withdrawn from them. I raised my eyes,and beheld in her's all that my heart had hoped, but did not dare topourtray.
"You--you," said she--when at last she found words--"I imagined thatyou only thought of ambition and the world--I could not have dreamt ofthis." She ceased, blushing and embarrassed.
"It is true," said I, "that you had a right to think so, for, till thismoment, I have never opened to you even a glimpse of my veiled heart,and its secret and wild desires; but, do you think that my love was theless a treasure, because it was hidden? or the less deep, because it wascherished at the bottom of my soul? No--no; believe me that love was notto be mingled with the ordinary objects of life--it was too pure to beprofaned by the levities and follies which are all of my nature that Ihave permitted myself to develope to the world. Do not imagine,that, because I have seemed an idler with the idle--selfish with theinterested--and cold, and vain, and frivolous, with those to whom suchqualities were both a passport and a virtue; do not imagine that I haveconcealed within me nothing more worthy of you and of myself; my verylove for you shews, that I am wiser and better than I have seemed. Speakto me, Ellen--may I call you by that name--one word--one syllable! speakto me, and tell me that you have read my heart, and that you will notreject it!"
There came no answer from those dear lips; but their soft and tendersmile told me that I might hope. That hour I still recall and bless!that hour was the happiest of my life.