University of Virginia Library

19. CHAPTER XIX.
THE CONSEQUENCES OF IMPRUDENCE.

For several days after the occurrence which we
have described in the last chapter, Lady Mary continued
in a high fever, and the physician gave little
hopes of her recovery. Edward visited the cottage
every day to inquire after her, and was at length
happy to learn, that by the unremitted kindness
and care of the worthy family, she was safely past
the crisis of her disorder; that her reason was restored,
but her weakness was such, that she had not
been permitted to attempt giving any account of the
manner in which she came into the miserable state
in which she was found.

She was assured that she was under the care of
a friend who had known her in early life, and would
visit her as soon as her strength would permit. Satisfied
with this assurance, she recovered rapidly,
and, in a month from the time of Edward's first
visit to the cottage, was able to sit up a great part of
the day, and to receive a visit from him.

The interview, as may readily be supposed, was
an affecting one to both parties. Poor Lady Mary
seemed to be throughly humbled by misfortune,
and was desirous of nothing so much as to see her
early friends, and receive their pardon for her unworthy
conduct in deserting them. Edward assured
her that their affection for her was the same as ever;
that they had regarded her as misled by designing

and artful persons; and that nothing would afford
them such heartfelt pleasure, as to welcome her
once more to their hospitable home.

Thus soothed and encouraged, she informed him
of the events which we have already narrated concerning
her elopement, and the subsequent desertion
of her husband. She proceeded to say that she had
lost her child, a beautiful boy, born at the Gothic
cottage of which we have so frequently spoken;
that after the marriage of Craftly and Theresa,
which out of regard to that young lady's taste was
celebrated with considerable parade, she had continued
to reside with them in the cottage, in a state
of indescribable wretchedness from the neglect of
her husband.

She said, that one day when the rest of the family
were out on an afternoon visit, she went into one of
the chambers to look for a book; which, Theresa
had told her as she went out, might be found in a
drawer there. She pulled out one drawer of the
bureau after another in vain, till she came to the
lower one, which came out with considerable difficulty.
When, at last, she succeeded in drawing it
out, what was her astonishment, to find a great part
of the letters which she had written to her husband
and friends, tumbled into it, after being broken open?
There were a great many more letters, and some
among them directed to Craftly, in her husband's
hand writing.

Convinced that she was suffering by some vile
conspiracy, she felt herself justified in taking the

whole to her room, after first closing the drawer to
avoid a speedy discovery.

Besides her own and Sir Stephen's letters, there
were several of Theresa's to her mother. Before
the family returned, Lady Mary had read through
the greater part of them, and notwithstanding the
bewildering and oppressive emotions which impeded
her progress and distracted her mind, she was able
to make out pretty clearly what her situation was.

Her husband was living in Paris, immersed in
dissipation. Craftly had been instructed by him,
and was repeatedly charged in the letters, to suffer
no communication between her and her friends, and,
what shocked the unfortunate lady most of all and
deprived her of recollection for some moments, was
a determination expressed in one of the letters never
to see her again, accompanied with the declaration,
that although she supposed herself so, she was not
really his wife.

After recovering from her fainting fit, she hurried
through the remainder of the letters, with many
tears and many prayers to Heaven for support.

“Never in my life,” said she, “did I pass an
afternoon of such complete and thorough wretchedness.
I thought myself lost beyond all hope. Surrounded
with enemies, and without a single protector
or friend. Before the family returned, I restored
a greater part of the letters to the drawer, and when
desired to join them at tea, I sent an excuse, and was
glad to be left neglected and undisturbed in my
room until the next morning.

“During this time I had considered all the circumstances
of my situation. It was apparent from
the suppression of Theresa's letters, that she had not
from the first been a full participator in the plot
against me. Yet it was not possible for me to give
her my confidence, now that she had become the
wife of Craftly, who was the chief instrument of the
conspiracy. The mother and sister of this hypocrite
were so fully persuaded of his honour, that they
would have considered me a maniac or a calumniator,
if I had disclosed the truth to them. I had found
out by the letters that Craftly was paid for my
support by my husband, who relinquished the interest
of a mortgage on Craftly's estate as payment.
This I regarded as a tacit acknowledgment that
I was his wife. But the evidence of Theresa,
which I supposed could be drawn from her at
some future time by my friends, I considered of
still greater value.

“I had no reason to fear that I should be left in
absolute want, or that I should be treated with open
unkindness by any of the family. But it was dreadful
to me to know, that I was living under the roof
of a man who had conspired to deprive me of every
thing that is valuable in life. I could not look upon
him without a secret shudder running through my
frame. After revolving the circumstances of my
situation for several days, during which I with difficulty
preserved an outward appearance of composure,
I at length came to the resolution to seek
shelter with Mr. Matthews, and endeavour to recover
the favour of my relations.

“But how to effect my escape, with any prospect
of ever reaching my friends, was a difficult question.
I had no money nor jewels of any considerable value;
but there were a few valuable laces which I might
dispose of for enough to defray my travelling expenses.
I accordingly packed them up with great
care, and learning that there was to be a fair in the
neighbourhood, I determined to dispose of them
there. On the morning of the fair, I informed the
family that I intended to take a walk, and spend
the day in visiting the cottages in our neighbourhood;
I hope the deception will be forgiven me.
I put on my travelling dress, concealed my treasure,
and set forward, with mingled emotions of gladness
and apprehension. I sold the laces without difficulty,
though for considerably less than their value,
and I have reason to believe that I was mistaken for
one of those persons who gain a subsistence by smuggling
articles of this kind from the continent. This
however was a trifling consideration, I could have
consented to pass for a gypsey or a fortune teller
in order to escape from my persecutors.

“My next object was to secure a passage in the
mail coach, which went South. Here was a greater
trial of my courage; since this exposure was a continued
one, while my other was but momentary. I
played my part however as confidently as I could,
and although my unprotected state exposed me to
suspicions which the innkeeper, his wife and even
the servants were at no great pains to conceal, yet I
was enabled to bear up against it all, without a tear,

and arrived at the end of the first stage without
any accident.

“The fatigues of the last two days, however,
were so great, that I was nearly overcome when we
arrived at the inn which was at the termination of
this stage, and I retired to a room apart, as soon as we
arrived. I observed a newspaper lying in the window
seat, and after refreshing myself with a cup of tea,
I took it up, half hoping to see the name of some
friend in its columns. Judge of my horror on reading
the fatal record of my husband's death. He
had fallen in a duel in Paris. I had loved him,
oh too well!”

Here Lady Mary became too much affected to
proceed with her narrative. Indeed she had little
more to relate; for the shock had proved too great
for her reason, and from that moment she recollected
little more than that she had wandered from
village to village, pitied and relieved by some and
derided by others, until she found herself in her
present asylum, restored to perfect recollection by
the care of the good people around her.

Edward had listened to her narrative with the
deepest interest and compassion, and assured her of
the protection and support of her friends, whatever
might be the determination of her relations. He
gave directions for her further accommodation at
the cottage during her convalescence, and it was arranged
that as soon as her strength would permit,
she should take up her residence at his own house.

Having been delayed only by his desire to learn
all that related to her, and to provide for her comfort,

Edward set off for the South as soon as these
arrangements had been completed, leaving Lady
Mary under the care of the worthy family at the
cottage.