My heart is bursting—O Cecilia!
What will become of my fond, my dear,
venerable parent, when she finds this
daughter, this comfort of her age, this
beloved of her soul, a poor abandoned
outcast; lost to her husband's love, turned
out of his doors, despised, disgraced! My
children too—I must leave them behind
—My God, for what calamities
hast thou ordained thy creature! Tears,
tears, you may well flow!
So! I am relieved, and will endeavour
to fortify my soul against the two events,
that appear to me horrid as an approaching
execution to a guilty wretch, the parting
with my children, and the meeting
with my mother. As the letter I wrote
will miss of her at Sidney Castle, I shall
write to London, to prepare her to receive
the wretch whom her imagination
has figured to her so happy.
Lady V—! I hear her coming up stairs
—I cannot conceal my affliction, nor my
disgrace.
Lady V— has left me: let me in
astonishment and new horror. Mrs. Gerrarde!
Who do you think Mrs. Gerrarde
is? She is the aunt of Miss Burchell, that
aunt who betrayed her to destruction.
Sure this woman was sent into the world
for a scourge!
I cannot collect myself to tell you with
any method, the conversation that passed
between Lady V— and me. She found
me with the marks of tears on my face;
they streamed again at the sight of her;
I could not conceal the cause, and I put
Mr. Arnold's letter into her hands, for I
was not able to tell her the purport of
it.
This is Mrs. Gerrarde's doing, said
she: the detestable creature! How could
she work on your infatuated husband, to
drive him such horrid lengths? I know
not, said I, but I hope my lady V— believes
me innocent. Innocent! she exclaimed:
My dear creature, your sufferings
almost make me mad. Do you know
that Mrs. Gerrarde has an intrigue with
your husband? I fear so, madam, I replied,
but I hoped it was not public. Poor
child, said lady V—, his attachment to her
has been no secret, ever since he came
down to this country, though probably
you were the last to suspect it. I have
often dreaded the consequences of it,
but never imagined it would have come
to this; I always had a bad opinion of
the woman, and only kept up a face of
civility to her in her husband's time, on
account of her niece, a charming girl that
then lived with her; but since Miss Burchell
has left her, I have almost dropt
my acquaintance with her; though my
lord, who had an old friendship for captain
Gerrarde, persuades me to be civil
to her.
The name of Miss Burchell had struck
me speechless. The clue was now unravelled.
With what an unremitting zeal
has this base woman gone on in her career
of iniquity! Lady V—, who was intirely
taken up with the thoughts of my unhappiness,
took no notice of my silence or
confusion. What do you mean to do,
my dear Mrs. Arnold? said she. Do you
think it is not possible, by the interposition
of friends, to disabuse your unfortunate
husband? For unfortunate he is in a
higher degree than yourself, as you have
conscious innocence to support you. Oh
madam, said I, it is vain to think of
it! Mrs. Gerrarde has struck the blow
effectually. Were Mr. Arnold left to the
workings of his own heart, he might,
perhaps, relent; but that woman, like
my evil genius and his, will take care
to keep his suspicions alive. She possesses
his whole heart, and my removal is become
necessary to the quiet of them both.
I have taken my resolution, I will immediately
quit this house, and leave it to a
righteous God to vindicate me in his own
time. You should go no where but to
my house, said lady V—, with tears in her
eyes, but that I think it an improper
situation for you, while Mr. Faulkland is
my guest. He will be distracted when
he hears of this. I conjured lady V— not
to tell him: My being parted from my
husband cannot long be a secret, said I,
but the cause may. Lady V— told me
that Mr. Faulkland was that very morning
set out for Sidney Castle to see my
brother, having received a letter from
him the day before, in which he told
him that my mother was going in a day
or two to London, and begged he would
come and spend a week with him. She
added, Mr. Faulkland purposed doing so,
and then to return to V—hall, as my lord
had obtained a promise from him to stay
some time longer with them; at least till
the old lady's affairs were settled, who
had left her fortune to Mr. Faulkland,
and to whom my lord V— was executor.
I told lady V—, I depended on her
friendship to keep this affair a secret
from Mr. Faulkland, lest the heat of his
temper should make him take such notice
of it, as might render my separation from
Mr. Arnold doubly injurious to my character.
Lady V— saw the necessity of this
caution, and promised to observe it. She
expressed great surprize at Mr. Faulkland's
visiting Mrs. Gerrarde, whom she
said, she did not imagine he had been acquainted
with. He is no stranger, said
she, to your husband's amour with her,
as it has often been a topic of discourse
between my lord and me; and I can
hardly think he would be so indelicate as
to carry on a love-affair with such an
abandoned creature; especially as I have
often heard him express the utmost detestation
of her, on account of her robbing
you of your husband's affection;
which I had observed for a good while.
But there is no knowing mankind, added
she: if that should be the case, you may
depend upon it that vile Gerrarde has
laid her plan deeper than we are aware of,
and would out-swear us all, that Faulkland
came to her house for no other purpose,
than to have an opportunity of seeing
you; who to be sure, she said, had
given him a private hint to meet you
there. Now the worst of it is, it is impossible
to have this matter cleared up to
your husband, without Mr. Faulkland's
concurrence, and that you will not consent
to. By no means, I replied, I would
not for the world have Mr. Faulkland
interfere in my justification. If the affair
should really be as you have suggested,
a little time may, perhaps, discover this
wicked woman to Mr. Arnold, and it
will not then be so difficult to clear my
innocence. At present, her influence
over him is too powerful for me to combat
with; and I know he wishes for nothing
more than to free himself from the
restraint that my presence lays him under.
Lady V— acquiesced in my opinion,
and said, she hoped a little time would
chace away the dark cloud that now
hung over me. She staid with me the
whole day; it was a day of tears: the
dear woman was quite subdued at parting
with me. I shall see you no more, dear
lady V—, said I; I shall go to London in
two days—Preserve your fortitude,
dearest Mrs. Arnold, she replied; the time
will come when your husband will repent
of the bitter distress he has occasioned to
you: my lord and I will use our utmost
endeavours to convince him of his error.
—We shall meet in London, my dear;
I shall go thither early in the winter on
purpose—Have courage—Your innocence
must be cleared. I answered her not,
my heart was too full. We embraced,
and lady V— parted from me in silence.
I have written to my mother, and directed
my letter to St. James's-street. I
would have her prepared for the shock
before she sees me; a shock, which I fear
she will not be able to sustain.
