University of Virginia Library

14. CHAPTER XIV.

On the morning following Mrs. Rainsford's soirée,
at about 12 o'clock a splendid carriage, with liveried
footman and charioteer, drew up at the door of Mr.
Elwell's mansion, and Edward de Lyle ascended
the door steps and was admitted.

“Is Miss Borrowdale at home?” he inquired of the
curly-headed waiter, who, after inviting him to a
seat in the parlour, took his card, and proceeded to
ascertain whether the lady was visible.

Soon after her femme de chambre entered the
room, and informed Mr. De Lyle, that Miss Borrowdale
would do herself the pleasure of waiting on him
in a few moments. No sooner had he fixed his
bold gaze on the waiting-maid than the thought occurred
that she might be made a convenient instrument

to further his designs. There was a roguish
and wicked leer in her sparkling black eye, which,
with its over shrewdness of expression, indicated
less purity than cunning, and a decided aptitude for
intrigue.

“My pretty young lady,” he said, “you are Miss
Borrowdale's travelling companion, I presume?”

“Yes, sir, I took the place of a young woman
who was left sick at the springs,” she replied, with
a simper.

“Do me the favour to step this way,” resumed De
Lyle, taking her by the hand and proceeding towards
the front window of the parlour; “time is short.
Your lady is in danger from the addresses of a person
who is totally unworthy of her. But at present
you must not whisper a syllable of this to her, as she
would not believe it. In a very few days, however,
she shall have such evidence as will convince the
most sceptical. But, in the mean time, you must be
my confidante, my adviser, my charming partner in
a few tête-à-têtes.” Here he caught her plump
little hand, kissed it, and carelessly placed on the
palm a fifty dollar note, saying, “On your life,
not a word of this. The safety of Miss Borrowdale
alone makes me so bold.”

“Sir,” said the girl, “her eyes cast down with affected
modesty, “I'm sure if I thought you meant
any thing wrong, I would n't touch your present for
the world. But come, now, can't you tell me all
about it? I should so like to know.”

“Meet me at six this afternoon on the walk in
front of the Park, and you shall know all. But
Miss Borrowdale, will, I fear, surprise us; so, you
dear, bewitching little soul, I must bow you out of
the room.” Here he ventured to kiss her cheek.
“Not a word, but be punctual at six, and I'll do
more for you than you dream of.”

As she left the room, Miss Borrowdale entered,
dressed with great simplicity in a fawn-colored silk
gown, a plain diamond broach being the only ornament
on her person, if we except a pair of gold earrings;
and was saluted by De Lyle with that grace
and courtesy for which he was distinguished in
“good society.”

“I have taken the liberty of calling to inquire if
Miss Borrowdale suffered no inconvenience from the
evening's exercise,” he said. “For my own part,
I ever feel somewhat languid, after a night of pleasure.
'Tis the penalty we all pay for enjoyment.”

“My own experience in such matters is so limited,”
replied Julia, “that I am not an adequate judge
of the effect of fashionable dissipation on the system.
Fortunately my seclusion in the country prevents
the necessity of reversing the order of nature, by converting
night into day. In cities I am aware it is
otherwise.”

“If I might venture to express an opinion, formed,
indeed, somewhat hastily, but which every passing
moment confirms, I should decide that any circumstance
which prevents Miss Borrowdale from

throwing around fashionable society the charm of her
presence is most untoward.”

Without noticing the intended compliment, Julia
at once diverted the subject into another channel,
and the quick eye of De Lyle perceived that direct
flattery was little calculated to further his wishes.
He therefore gracefully introduced various subjects,
on which he touched with the superficial fluency and
ease of a master of that small talk which forms the
current coin of fashionable conversation; and after
soliciting permission to again pay his respects, withdrew.

“How unlike Clifton,” thought Julia, with a
sigh, as he closed the door. In truth, despite his
handsome face, and courteous address, neither the
countenance nor manner of De Lyle had on the
previous evening, left a favourable impression on
her mind.

Her situation at the supper table at Mrs. Rainsford's
had enabled her to hear a considerable portion
of his conversation with Ellingbourne and
Shafton, which was not only frivolous and unmanly,
but in several instances liable to more grave objections;
and if she had not supposed the feelings of
Clifton would be wounded by any slight towards
one whom she considered his friend, the interview
on the present occasion would have been most undoubtedly
declined.

The entrance of Miss Elwell suspended her reflections,
whom she addressed: “Cousin Helen, if you

are not more attentive to the cavaliers who call to pay
their devoirs, I shall certainly eclipse you in their
affections. Here have I been this halfhour, doing
the amiable to a modern Paris, who intended to
throw himself at your feet, but who, in default of the
real Helen, was compelled to accept “her counterfeit
presentment,” in my poor person. To say
truth, the gallant behaved admirably under the circumstances,
and most emphatically avowed, as in
duty bound, that I was the loadstone which attracted
him hither. So, fair coz, be wary, or I shall
prove a formidable rival.”

“May I be permitted to learn which of the score
of swains who are dying at my feet, you have entertained
this morning?” inquired Helen.

“As the gentleman has been for a good half hour
in my company, and is, of course, too deeply enthralled
to escape me, I will for once be generous,
and relieve your anxiety. He goes by the euphonious
cognomen of De Lyle. Confess now that it
is as attractive an appellation as one could desire.”

“What, the rich, and accomplished, and elegant,
and fascinating Edward De Lyle? Why,
Julia, your fortune's made. Here have I been these
twelve months, trimming my canvass to catch the
slightest breeze of his affection without success,
when you at first sight sail beautifully before the
wind. Coz., I am absolutely jealous, and must dispose
of you at once, if I expect to make another
conquest this season. You shall marry De Lyle,
and be removed from my path.”

“But now I think of it, liberty is too attractive,
especially as, like other devotees at the shrine of the
same goddess, I can, with her signet in my possession,
exercise despotic power; and you need not
therefore say a word more. I'll not wed,” replied
Julia.

“But, cousin, without jesting, this would be an
excellent match; and, depend on it, De Lyle is not
the man to call on you, so pointedly, without a definite
purpose. Let me advise you to favour his addresses.
His wealth and standing render him a
most eligible partner.”

“For that very reason, if for no other, I should
seriously refuse him. You must know, that I am
one of those romantic country girls, who are enamoured
with `love in a cottage;' and if a high-born lover
should win my affections in the guise of humble
mediocrity, and before the knot was tied, the mystery
should be unveiled, I would in all probability,
consign his suit to the receptacle appointed for `rejected
addresses.”

“Come, come now, I think I see where the
shoe pinches. Has not the tall form of a certain
gentleman, who monopolized your attentions last
evening, some slight influence on your decision?”

At this homethrust, Julia blushingly replied,
“Cousin, if you had lived in Connecticut, they certainly
would have sacrificed you to their belief in
witchcraft. How could you guess so cleverly without
the aid of the black art?”

“Well, well, cousin,” said Helen, “we'll drop
badinage and take an airing. I perceive the coach
is at the door, so allons, ma chere ami.”

No two things could be more different than the
character and feelings of Julia and her cousin.
The mind of Helen Elwell was of that shrewd and
calculating cast which measures every event by the
standard of personal interest; and while she dismissed
the conversation relative to the attachment of
Julia to Clifton, with a passing remark, yet the real
interest she felt in the subject was any thing but
slight. Her strong natural sense rendered her indifferent
to the attentions of an individual of De Lyle's
limited mental capacity, but for our hero she entertained
far other sentiments. A young male relative
had some months previous, presented her with a
few exquisite specimens of Clifton's poetical composition,
with which she was particularly pleased, and
the same individual had pointed out his person while
passing the residence of her father; but her first introduction
was furnished by Julia, at Mrs. Rainsford's
party. On her return from the soirée she continued
to revert to the fascinating expression of his
fine intellectual face, and a feeling nearly allied to
jealousy agitated her bosom after she had retired to
rest, when reflecting on his particular attentions to
Julia. That the haughty girl had serious thoughts
of an ultimate union with a clerk in a mercantile
establishment, is improbable; but the pride of victory,
where to conquer, was indeed to triumph, and

the desire to compel genius, with its lofty attributes,
to lay its homage at her feet, lent an ardour to her
feelings, far different, indeed, in its essence, but little
less intense than that which glowed in the breast of
Julia.

Thus fate, which delights in thwarting the wishes
of true lovers, was most industriously scattering
obstacles in the path of Julia and Clifton; and were
we permitted to pierce the veil that curtains the
view of futurity, we could furnish thee, gentle reader,
an interesting homily on the necessity of patience
under trials and afflictions, by recounting the eventful
scenes through whose fiery ordeal our hero was
destined to pass.