University of Virginia Library

16. CHAPTER XVI.

Here ended this conference. She had, by
no means, suspected the manner in which it
would be conducted. All punctilios were trampled
under foot, by the impetuosity of Ormond.
Things were, at once, and without delay, placed
upon a certain footing. The point, which ordinary

persons would have employed months in
attaining, was reached in a moment. While
these incidents were fresh in her memory, they
were accompanied with a sort of trepidation, the
offspring at once of pleasure and surprise.

Ormond had not deceived her expectations,
but hearsay and personal examination, however
uniform their testimony may be, produce a very
different impression. In her present reflections,
Hellen and her lover approached to the front of
the stage, and were viewed with equal perspicuity.
One consequence of this was, that their
characters were more powerfully contrasted with
with each other, and the eligibility of marriage,
appeared not quite so incontestible as before.

Was not equality implied in this compact?
Marriage is an insrument of pleasure or pain in
proportion as this equality is more or less. What,
but the fascination of his senses is it, that ties
Ormond to Hellen. Is this a basis on which marriage
may properly be built?

If things had not gone thus far, the impropriety
of marriage could not be doubted; but, at present,
there is a choice of evils, and that may now
be desirable, which at a former period, and in
different circumstances, would have been clearly
otherwise.

The evils of the present connection are known;
those of marriage are future and contingent;
Hellen cannot be the object of a genuine and
lasting passion; another may; this is not merely
possible; nothing is more likely to happen: This
event, therefore, ought to be included in our calculation.
There would be a material deficiency
without it. What was the amount of the misery
that would, in this case, ensue.

Constantia was qualified, beyond most others,
to form an adequate conception of this misery.

One of the ingredients in her character was a
mild and steadfast enthusiasm. Her sensibilities
to social pleasure, and her conceptions of the benefits
to flow from the conformity and concurrence
of intentions and wishes, heightening and
refining the sensual passion, were exquisite.

There, indeed, were evils, the foresight of
which tended to prevent them, but was there
wisdom in creating obstacles in the way of a suitable
alliance. Before we act, we must consider
not only the misery produced, but the happiness
precluded by our measures.

In no case, perhaps, is the decision of an human
being impartial, or totally uninfluenced by sinister
and selfilsh motives. If Constantia surpassed
others, it was not, because, her motives were
pure, but, because, they possessed more of purty
than those of others. Sinister considerations
flow in upon us through imperceptible channels,
and modify our thoughts in numberless ways,
without our being truly conscious of their presence.
Constance was young, and her heart was
open at a thousand pores, to the love of excellence.
The image of Ormond occupied the chief
place in her fancy, and was endowed with attractive
and venerable qualities. A bias was
hence created that swayed her thoughts, though
she knew not that they were swayed. To this
might justly be imputed, some part of that reluctance
which she now felt to give Ormond to Hellen.
But this was not sufficient to turn the scale.
That which had previously mounted, was indeed
heavier than before, but this addition did
not enable it to outweight its opposite. Marriage
was still the best upon the whole, but her heart
was tortured to think that, best as it was, it
abounded with so many evils.

On the evening of the next day, Ormond entered
with careless abruptness, Constantia's sitting
apartment. He was introduced to her father.
A general and unrestrained conversation immediately
took place. Ormond addressed Mr. Dudley
with the familiarity of an old acquaintance.
In three minutes, all embarrassment was discarded.
The lady and her visitant were accurate observers
of each other. In the remarks of the latter,
and his vein was an abundant one, there
was a freedom and originality altogether new to
his hearers. In his easiest and sprightliest sallies
were tokens of a mind habituated to profound
and extensive views. His associations were
formed on a comprehensive scale.

He pretended to nothing, and studied the concealments
of ambiguity more in reality than in
appearance. Constantia, however, discovered
a sufficient resemblance between their theories of
virtue and duty. The difference between them
lay in the inferences arbitrarily deduced, and in
which two persons may vary without end, and
yet never be repugnant. Constantia delighted
her companion by the facility with which she entered
into his meaning, the sagacity she displayed
in drawing out his hints, circumscribing his conjectures,
and thwarting or qualifying his maxims.
The scene was generally replete with ardour and
contention, and yet the impression left on the
mind of Ormond was full of harmony. Her discourse
tended to rouse him from his lethargy, to
furnish him with powerful excitements, and the
time spent in her company, seemed like a doubling
of existence.

The comparison could not but suggest itself,
between this scene and that exhibited by Hellen.
With the latter voluptuous blandishments, musical
prattle, and silent but expressive homage, composed

a banquet delicious for a while, but whose
sweetness now began to pall upon his taste. It
supplied him with no new ideas, and hindered
him, by the lulling sensations it inspired, from
profiting by his former acquisitions. Helena was
beautiful. Apply the scale, and not a member
was found inelegantly disposed, or negligently
moulded. Not a curve that was blemished by an
angle or ruffled by asperities. The irradiations
of her eyes were able to dissolve the knottiest fibres,
and their azure was serene beyond any that
nature had elsewhere exhibited. Over the rest
of her form the glistening and rosy hues were diffused
with prodigal luxuriance, and mingled in
endless and wanton variety. Yet this image had
fewer attractions event to the senses than that of
Constance. So great is the difference between
forms animated by different degrees of intelligence.

The interviews of Ormond and Constance grew
more frequent. The progress which they made in
the knowledge of each other was rapid. Two positions,
that were favorite ones with him, were
quickly subverted. He was suddently changed,
from being one of the calumniators of the female
sex, to one of its warmest eulogists. This was a
point on which Constantia had ever been a vigorous
disputant, but her arguments, in their direct tendency,
would never have made a convert of this
man. Their force, intrinsically considered, was
nothing. He drew his conclusions from incidental
circumstances. Her reasonings might be fallacious
or valid, but they were so composed, arranged
and delivered, were drawn from such
sources, and accompanied with such illustrations,
as plainly testified a manlike energy in the reasoner.
In this indirect and circuitous way, her
point was unanswerably established.

Your reasoning is bad, he would say; Every
one of your conclusions is false. Not a single allegation
but may be easily confuted, and yet I allow
that your position is uncontrovertibly proved
by them. How bewildered is that man who never
thinks for himself! Who rejects a principle
merely because the arguments brought in support
of it are insufficient. I must not reject the truth,
because another has unjustifiably adopted it. I
want to reach a certain hill-top. Another has
reached it before me, but the ladder he used is
too weak to bear me. What then? Am I to stay
below on that account? No: I have only to
construct one suitable to the purpose, and of
strength sufficient.

A second maxim had never been confuted till
now. It inculcated the insignificance and hollowness
of love. No pleasure he thought was to
be despised for its own sake. Every thing was
good in its place, but amorous gratifications were
to be degraded to the bottom of the catalogue.
The enjoyments of music and landscape, were
of a much higher order. Epicurism itself was entitled
to more respect. Love, in itself, was in
his opinion, of little worth, and only of importance
as the source of the most terrible of intellectual
maladies. Sexual sensations associating
themselves, in a certain way, with our ideas, beget
a disease, which has, indeed, found no place
in the catalogue, but is a case of more entire subversion
and confusion of mind than any other.
The victim is callous to the sentiments of honor
and shame, insensible to the most palpable distinctions
of right and wrong, a systematic opponent
of testimony, and obstinate perverter of
truth.

Ormond was partly right. Madness like death
can be averted by no foresight or previous contrivance.

This probably is one of its characteristicks.
He that witnesses its influence on another,
with most horror, and most
fervently deprecates
its revages, is not therefore more safe.
This circumstance was realized in the history of
Ormond.

This infatuation, if it may so be called, was
gradual in its progress. The sensations which
Hellen was now able to excite, were of a new
kind. Her power was not merely weakened, but
her endeavours counteracted their own end. Her
fondness was rejected with disdain, or borne with
reluctance. The lady was not slow in perceiving
this change. The stroke of death would have
been more acceptable. His own reflections were
too tormenting, to make him willing to discuss
them in words. He was not aware of the effects
produced by this change in his demeanour, till
informed of it by herself.

One evening he displayed symptoms of uncommon
dissatisfaction. Her tenderness was unable
to dispel it. He complained of want of sleep.
This afforded an hint, which she drew forth into
one of her enchanting ditties. Habit had almost
conferred upon her the power of spontaneous poesy,
and while she pressed his forehead to her bosom,
she warbled forth a strain airy and exuberant
in numbers, tender and exstatic in its imagery.

Here her voice sunk, and the line terminated
in a sigh. Her museful ardours were chilled by
the looks of Ormond. Absorbed in his own
thoughts, he appeared scarcely to attend to this
strain. His sternness was proof against her accustomed
fascinations. At length she pathetically
complained of his coldness, and insinuated
her suspicions, that his affection was transferred to
another object. He started from her embrace,
and after two or three turns across the room, he
stood before her. His large eyes were steadfastly
fixed upon her face.

Aye, said he, thou hast guessed right. The
love, poor as it was, that I had for thee, is gone.
Henceforth thou art desolate indeed. Would to
God thou wert wise. Thy woes are but beginning;
I fear they will terminate fatally; If so,
the catastrophe cannot come too quickly.

I disdain to appeal to thy justice, Hellen, to
remind thee of conditions solemnly and explicitly
assumed. Shall thy blood be upon thy own head?

No. I will bear it myself. Though the load
would crush a mountain, I will bear it.

I cannot help it; I make not myself; I am
moulded by circumstances: Whether I shall love
thee or not, is no longer in my own choice. Marriage
is, indeed, still in my power. I may give
thee my name, and share with thee my fortune.
Will these content thee? Thou canst not partake
of my love. Thous canst have no part in my
tenderness. These are reserved for another more
worthy than thou.

But no. Thy state is, to the last degree, forlorn:
Even marriage is denied thee. Thou wast
contented to take me without it; to dispense
with the name of wife, but the being who has
displaced thy image in my heart, is of a different
class. She will be to me a wife, or nothing, and
I must be her husband, or perish.

Do not deceive thyself, Hellen. I know what
it is in which thou hast placed thy felicity. Life
is worth retaining by thee, but on one condition.
I know the incurableness of thy infirmity; but
be not deceived. Thy happiness is ravished
from thee. The condition on which thou consentedst
to live, is annulled. I love thee no longer.

No truth was ever more delicious; none was
ever more detestable. I fight against conviction,
and I cling to it. That I love thee no longer, is
at once a subject of joy and of mourning. I struggle
to believe thee superior to this shock: That
thou wilt be happy though deserted by me. Whatever
be thy destiny, my reason will not allow me
to be miserable on that account: Yet I would
give the world; I would forfeit every claim but
that which I hope upon the heart of Constance,
to be sure that thy tranquillity will survive this
stroke.

But let come what will, look no longer to me
for offices of love. Henceforth, all intercourse of
tenderness ceases. Perhaps all personal intercourse
whatever. But though this good be refused,
thou art sure of independence. I will guard
thy ease and thy honor with a father's scrupulousness.
Would to heaven a sister could be created
by adoption. I am willing, for thy sake, to
be an imposter. I will own thee to the world
for my sister, and carry thee whither the cheat
shall never be detected. I would devote my
whole life to prevarication and falsehood, for thy
sake, if that would suffice to make thee happy.

To this speech Helena had nothing to answer.
Her sobs and tears choaked all utterance. She
hid her face with her handkerchief, and sat powerless
and overwhelmed with despair. Ormond
traversed the room uneasily. Sometimes moving
to and fro with quick steps, sometimes standing
and eyeing her with looks of compassion. At
length he spoke:

It is time to leave you. This is the first night
that you will spend in dreary solitude. I know
it will be sleepless and full of agony; but the sentence
cannot be recalled. Henceforth regard me
as a brother. I will prove myself one. All other
claims are swallowed up in a superior affection.—
In saying this, he left the house, and almost without
intending it, found himself in a few minutes
at Mr. Dudley's door.