Modern Flirtations: A Novel

by Catherine Sinclair

  CHAPTER XXXV.

  Marion had frequently sketched in her own mind a faint outline of whatshe should say to Agnes on the subject of her unaccountable intimacywith Lord Doncaster, who seemed to delight in making a parade of herpreference for his society, especially in the presence of his nephew;but when Marion found herself at length alone one day with her sister,she felt her heart sink with apprehension, yet, being resolved toconquer nature, and do her duty, if possible, she approached the tablewhere Agnes was seated. A large, foreign-looking book, with goldclasps, lay conspicuously before her, which Marion discovered at onceto be a missal, bound in antique boards of beautifully inlaid wood,with massy gilt ornaments, and illuminated by designs in the style ofAlbert Durer.

  To hide her confusion, and begin the subject with advantage, Marionplaced her hand on the shoulder of Agnes for some moments, and leanedforward, examining those splendid paintings, the singular beauty ofwhich she admired, while expressing considerable amazement at thestrange, distorted designs on the border, where animals with five headsand their faces all nose, were varied with fish mounted on legs, andbirds exhibiting human countenances.

  "These eccentric creatures resemble the figures in some horribledream!" observed Marion; "but they are not a greater distortion fromthe truth of nature, than the Popish superstitions which theyillustrate are from the truth of revelation. Nothing seems left ineither, of the perfect symmetry with which all things come from aDivine Creator."

  "I am no controversialist," said Agnes, indifferently. "I take mattersas I find them."

  "That is not the safest of all plans, unless you are very careful fromwhom your ideas are received. I have heard that there are writers inthe Roman Catholic Church, such as Massillon, Pascal, and Fenelon, whowere nearly as pure in Christian doctrine as ourselves, resting theirhope on no merits except those of our Divine Saviour; but I shouldthink, for instance, that no Protestant could gain anything fromassociating with such a man as the Abbe Mordaunt, who would disgraceany church. Dear Agnes, allow me for this once the privilege of asister; not merely to love you with my whole heart, as I always do, butalso to prove my affection by saying for your sake what is most painfulto me, and may probably be annoying to you. It is with the greatestanxiety and surprise that I have lately been watching you----"

  "Watching me!" exclaimed Agnes, starting round with angry asperity, andfixing her flashing eyes on Marion. "What right have you--or what righthas any living being to watch me?"

  "The right of affection and kindness," replied Marion, with emotion,while a large tear glittered in her deep blue eyes. "We are motherlessgirls, Agnes, and therefore we owe each other the greater solicitude.There are many eyes upon you, less friendly, I fear, than those of asister. If others were not placing a sinister construction on all theysee, I might not perhaps have ventured to begin the subject; but as itis, I have no choice except to discuss it with either Patrick oryourself. Our kind uncle must not be agitated, on any consideration;otherwise I have sometimes thought of asking him to take us at onceaway from this place."

  "And pray, what has your mean 'watching' of my conduct,--your policeinvestigation, discovered, which might render so desperate a measurenecessary?" asked Agnes, with a flickering color in her cheek, and in abitter tone of suppressed anger. "Wisdom will die with you, Marion! Iought to be duly sensible of my good fortune, in having such a sister!Perhaps you intend obligingly to favor me with a few hints for theregulation of my conduct,--to honor me with a little of that valuableadvice which I have not been sufficiently alert in asking."

  "Agnes! I know myself to be in a most unsuitable position, whencriticising anything in your conduct; but if I had died, and returnedfrom another world with permission to speak, I could not be moreentirely free from any personal motive. If I give pain to you, I givegreater pain to myself; but every one combines in saying, that this oldRoman Catholic peer, and his Abbe, are most profligate men; that theyscarcely deserve to be well received by ladies of character; that thevery glance of their eye is contamination, and that you alone, of allthe ladies in this house, are singled out to be, not distinguished, butinsulted by their attentions. Surely, Agnes, it is time for me tospeak. Our reputation is all we have on earth--more precious to anywoman than the wealth of the world, and more precious, if possible, tous, than to others, because we have no other dependence. Patrick isevery day on the brink of ruin, and must leave us before long. Ouruncle--but I cannot speak of that--when he is gone, we shall be aloneindeed."

  "When that day comes, I shall be as sorry as yourself; but there isnothing to fear at present. Captain De Crespigny says, all old unclesor aunts who wish to be lamented by their young nieces, should die inthe midst of a gay season, to interrupt the parties and balls; butgood, worthy Sir Arthur is more considerate than to incommode any one.When we do lose the Admiral, however, be under no apprehension of myremaining alone! I have made up my great mind upon that subject, andyou will see that circumstances do not always continue the same."

  "Nor people either, Agnes! I have long feared that you trust tooimplicitly in the constancy of Captain De Crespigny."

  "Trust! Do you suppose that I any longer trust him!" exclaimedAgnes--her color rising, and her large eyes glittering with a strangeexpression of indignant contempt. "No, Marion! He has been representedto me now, as he is, a heartless, vain, unfeeling coquette. All men aremonsters, but he is the worst! I can be revenged, however! Even he,cold and indifferent as he is, shall repent! I shall blight his hopes,as he has blighted mine. I shall cross his views, humble and disappointhim. To inflict on him all that he has so wantonly and cruellyinflicted on me; to destroy his insolent triumph, and bring down thepride of his success, I would--yes, Marion, I would, and I shallsacrifice the happiness of my whole life!"

  "Dear Agnes! do not say so! Do not even think so for a moment! What canyou mean! Revenge would be a wretched satisfaction, at best! If he hastreated you ill----"

  "If he has!" interrupted Agnes, with startling vehemence. "Marion! theAbbe thinks he could never have married me, even had he wished it. ThatCaptain De Crespigny became entangled, from the time he was a boy, inone of those horrid Scotch affairs, half a marriage, or a whole one,just as he pleases, and Lord Doncaster told me one day inconfidence----"

  "In confidence, Agnes! What confidence should ever exist between youand such a man as Lord Doncaster? an old _roue_! You ought to despiseand avoid him!"

  "I am apt to think you are quite mistaken," replied Agnes, with asudden assumption of haughtiness, while she shot an angry glance atMarion. "The last Lord Doncaster but ten, may have been a _roue_, orwhat you please, but I know nothing, and will hear nothing against thepresent."

  "That is the very point on which I must speak!" answered Marion,hurriedly, her features working with agitation, while the blood rushedback to her heart. "In a case like this, where love or marriage arecompletely out of the question, our friends are all astonished thatyou, Agnes, who make no secret of liking admiration, should waste somuch time in deep conversation with that really disreputable old Peer.Believe me, it gives rise to much animadversion, and even calumny,especially when connected with that new ornament you wear; and I beginseriously to fear you may be persuaded into taking the veil."

  "Only a bridal veil," replied Agnes, arranging her ringlets. "I am notquite so mad as you think. I certainly have adopted this badge! At RomeI shall do as Rome does. Now, Marion, as young Rapid says in thecomedy, 'I shall take it a personal favor if you will not faint;' butthe Romish faith suits me best, and I consider it religion in fulldress, instead of religion in deshabille. I admire the almosttheatrical magnificence of its ritual; the splendid processions, theconsecrated dresses, the superb music, the dazzling lights, the cloudsof burning incense, the romantic convents, and the magnificentcathedrals."

  Marion looked aghast with consternation and sorrow, while she listenedin silence; but at length, in a tone of subdued and mournfulindignation, she replied, "Is this, then, possible! that without oneserious thought, you would forsake o
ur holy faith, for a mere externalmockery of religion! a solemn pantomime? Attracted by rosaries,crucifixes, tinkling bells, and empty symbols, you would forget thelessons of our childhood, the church in which we worshipped with ourfather, the Bible which he taught us to revere. Surely, Agnes, you willconsult a clergyman of our own persuasion, before taking rashly themost important step which a mortal can possibly contemplate,--which ourparents would rather you had never been born, than that you took."

  "Excuse me, for interrupting your sermon. It is against all rule, butit may save you a great deal of trouble," said Agnes, arranging herrings, and re-tying her bouquet; "my sole intention is to be of asimilar religion to the man I marry."

  "Do _you_ still expect," said Marion, with a look of surprise, "to beMrs. De Crespigny?"

  "Or Marchioness of Doncaster!"

  "Yes, in due course of time, when Captain De Crespigny succeeds!"

  "He never shall succeed," replied Agnes, setting her teeth, andspeaking with stern determination, while her face became rigid asstone. "Captain De Crespigny has deceived me, cheated me of my youth,hopes, and happiness. I have been fooled, trifled with, baselyill-treated. My heart is seared against any real attachment to another;but I shall be amply revenged on him. I shall destroy his happiness, ashe has destroyed mine. Without his long-expected wealth and title, hewill find that the butterfly is but a grub.--I mean to marry hisuncle!----"

  A dead silence followed these words. Marion made no exclamation, anddid not even look at Agnes, but buried her face in her hands, with afeeling of unutterable shame and consternation. The very idea had neverbefore occurred to her imagination, that her young and blooming sistercould contemplate so degrading a sacrifice; but when, at length, shelooked up, there was something in the proud, stern expression of thatbeautiful countenance, which forced upon her the unwelcome andextraordinary conviction that all had been said in earnest.

  "Agnes!" cried she, gasping with astonishment; "that dissipated,horrid, dreadful man! Impossible! The miserable wreck of an ill-spentlife! A superannuated _roue_. Are you in jest? or are you mad?"

  "Mad! or at least delirious! Marion, we have lived long together, andyet you do not know me! I am not one to sit tamely down, as you woulddo, and wash my heart away with tears! My sorrows are not to becloseted in silent desolation, but I must act. If hope and happinessare crushed for ever, he who turned my feelings to stone shall sufferfor it! He shall no longer wind me on, and wind me off, according tohis own caprice! It is like death itself to love in secret, but worsethan death when it is known, and he does know all! He knows, believes,and rejoices to believe, that I have waited, suffered, hoped, andfeared for him, and for him only; but I am not one to die of scornedlove. Now every spark of my regard for him is crushed out. His vanityshall not have another moment's triumph over me," said Agnes, her eyesbecoming frightfully brilliant. "My heart feels as if it were buried ina snow-drift, and nothing warms it but the hope of vengeance."

  "Agnes! who in her senses would think of being consigned to misery andcontempt both here and hereafter, merely to punish one who ought to bedespised! If Captain De Crespigny be vain, foolish, and unprincipled,is that a sufficient reason for you to become degraded, and, I mustsay, infamous!" said Marion, in a tone of undisguised disgust, thoughher voice made no more impression than the gentle wave on the hard andunbending cliff. "Such a step as this would separate you for ever fromthose you have most reason to love."

  "I am one of the Positive Club, Marion, who never change their mindsabout anything! and my resolution is unalterable. ''Tis best repentingin a coach and six.'"

  "Think, Agnes, not of the short triumph over Captain De Crespigny, butof the long years that must follow,--of the living death you mustendure, linked to vice, decrepitude, and immorality, lowered in yourown eyes, and contemptible in those of others."

  "Mistaken as usual, Marion! a life of mediocrity would be a life ofmisery to me, and few people think the worse of any young lady forbecoming a Marchioness. Lord Doncaster can give me every thing excepthappiness, and I must find the best substitute for that in my power. Ablight is on my heart! my pride has been mortally wounded; but I cannotundertake a cold, insipid, colorless existence, devoid of motive and ofhope. It would be ennui drowned in wretchedness, if I return jilted,mortified, and disappointed, to our uncle's dog-hole of a villa atPortobello?"

  A red spot burned on Marion's cheek, and indignant tears, occupying theplace of words, glittered on her eye-lashes, while her thoughtsreverted to their generous, kind-hearted, and high-spirited uncle,whose affection was so undervalued by Agnes, and whose better feelingswere about to be so outraged by the announcement of a preposterous andreally disgraceful project.

  Agnes now assumed the dignity of a peeress in expectancy, looking cold,resolute, and haughty, till at length Marion, overcome with emotion,threw her arms round the neck of her sister, and burst into tears,saying, in accents of incoherent affection,--

  "Agnes,--dear Agnes! take pity upon yourself. Lay open your heart to akind Providence,--pray for peace, but do not barter yourself forrevenge. Do not become utterly lost, as well as unhappy! For my sake,for everybody's sake, let us go home as we came! Life is only preciousfor the eternal hopes and the domestic affections it bestows. Would yourashly throw away both, bringing on a lifetime of unpitied remorse?"

  Marion looked up with anxious solicitude, but scarcely had she ceasedto speak before Agnes glided out of the room, leaving behind her thesplendid missal adorned with Lord Doncaster's arms in gold upon thewhite parchment binding. Beside it lay the envelope of a letter, with amarquis' coronet on the seal, and underneath was engraved, to herastonishment, the exact date of Agnes' birthday. Marion started whenshe saw this absurd piece of gallantry, and covered her face with herhands, as if she never could show it again.

  She did not know how hate could burn, In hearts once changed from soft to stern; Nor all the false and fatal zeal, The convert of revenge can feel.