Book: Helen

M >> Maria Edgeworth >> Helen




Quick as she turned from him these thoughts passed in her mind, alternately
angry and ashamed, and at last, forcing herself to be composed, telling
herself she ought to see farther and at least to be certain before she
condemned him--condemned so kind, so honourable a friend, while the fault
might be all her own; she now, in a softened tone, as if begging pardon
for the pain she had given, and the injustice she had done him, said some
words, insignificant in themselves, but from the voice of kindness charming
to Beauclerc's ear and soul.

"Are not we walking very fast?" said she, breathless. He slackened his pace
instantly, and with a delighted look, while she, in a hurried voice,
added, "But do not let me delay you. There is the boat. You must be in
haste--impatient!"

"In haste! impatient! to leave you, Helen!" She blushed deeper than he had
ever seen her blush before. Beauclerc in general knew--

Which blush was anger's, which was love's!"

--But now he was so much moved he could not decide at the first glance:
at the second, there was no doubt; it was anger--not love. Her arm was
withdrawn from his. He was afraid he had gone too far. He had called her
Helen! He begged pardon, half humbly, half proudly. "I beg pardon; Miss
Stanley, I should have said. I see I have offended. I fear I have been
presumptuous, but Lady Davenant taught me to trust to Miss Stanley's
sincerity, and I was encouraged by her expressions of confidence and
friendship."

"Friendship! Oh, yes! Mr. Beauclerc," said Helen, in a hurried voice,
eagerly seizing on and repeating the word friendship; "yes, I have always
considered you as a friend. I am sure I shall always find you a sincere,
good friend."

"Friend!" he repeated in a disappointed tone--all his hopes sunk. She took
his arm again, and he was displeased even with that. She was not the being
of real sensibility he had fancied--she was not capable of real love. So
vacillated his heart and his imagination, and so quarrelled he alternately
every instant with her and with himself. He could not understand her,
or decide what he should next do or say himself; and there was the boat
nearing the land, and they were going on, on, towards it in silence. He
sighed.

It was a sigh that could not but be heard and noticed; it was not meant
to be noticed, and yet it was. What could she think of it? She could not
believe that Beauclerc meant to act treacherously. This time she was
determined not to take anything for granted, not to be so foolish as she
had been with Mr. Churchill.

"Is not that your boat that I see, rowing close?"

"Yes, I believe--certainly. Yes," said he.

But now the vacillation of Beauclerc's mind suddenly ceased. Desperate, he
stopped her, as she would have turned down that path to the landing-place
where the boat was mooring. He stood full across the path. "Miss Stanley,
one word--by one word, one look decide. You must decide for me whether I
stay--or go--for ever!"

"I!--Mr. Beauclerc!--"

The look of astonishment--more than astonishment, almost of
indignation--silenced him completely, and he stood dismayed. She pressed
onwards, and he no longer stopped her path. For an instant he submitted in
despair. "Then I must not think of it. I must go--must I, Miss Stanley?
Will not you listen to me, Helen? Advise me; let me open my heart to you as
a friend."

She stopped under the shady tree beneath which they were passing,
and, leaning against it, she repeated, "As a friend--but, no, no, Mr.
Beauclerc--no; I am not the friend you should consult--consult the general,
your guardian."

"I have consulted him, and he approves."

"You have! That is well, that is well at all events," cried she; "if he
approves, then all is right."

There was a ray of satisfaction on her countenance. He looked as if
considering what she exactly meant. He hoped again, and was again resolved
to hazard the decisive words. "If you knew all!" and he pressed her arm
closer to him--"if I might tell you all----?"

Helen withdrew her arm decidedly. "I know all," said she; "all I ought to
know, Mr. Beauclerc."

"You know all!" cried he, astonished at her manner.

"You know the circumstances in which I am placed?"

He alluded to the position in which he stood with Lady Castlefort; she
thought he meant with respect to Lady Blanche, and she answered--"Yes: I
know all!" and her eye turned towards the boat.

"I understand you," said he; "you think I ought to go?" "Certainly," said
she. It never entered into her mind to doubt the truth of what Lady Cecilia
had told her, and she had at first been so much embarrassed by the fear of
betraying what she felt she ought not to feel, and she was now so shocked
by what she thought his dishonourable conduct, that she repeated almost in
a tone of severity--"Certainly, Mr. Beauclerc, you ought to go."

The words, "since you are engaged,"--"you know you are engaged," she was on
the point of adding, but Lady Cecilia's injunctions not to tell him that
she had betrayed his secret stopped her.

He looked at her for an instant, and then abruptly, and in great agitation,
said; "May I ask, Miss Stanley, if your affections are engaged?"

"Is that a question, Mr. Beauclerc, which you have a right to ask me?"

"I have no right--no right, I acknowledge--I am answered."

He turned away from her, and ran down the bank towards the boat, but
returned instantly, and exclaimed, "If you say to me, go! I am gone for
ever!"

"Go!" Helen firmly pronounced. "You never can be more than a friend to me!
Oh never be less!--go!"

"I am gone," said he, "you shall never see me more."

He went, and a few seconds afterwards she heard the splashing of his oars.
He was gone! Oh! how she wished that they had parted sooner--a few minutes
sooner, even before he had so looked--so spoken!

"Oh! that we had parted while I might have still perfectly esteemed him;
but now--!"




CHAPTER V.


When Helen attempted to walk, she trembled so much that she could not move,
and leaning against the tree under which she was standing, she remained
fixed for some time almost without thought. Then she began to recollect
what had been before all this, and as soon as she could walk she went back
for her drawing-book, threw from her the pencil which Beauclerc had cut,
and made her way home as fast as she could, and up to her own room, without
meeting anybody; and as soon as she was there she bolted the door and threw
herself upon her bed. She had by this time a dreadful headache, and she
wanted to try and get rid of it in time for breakfast--that was her first
object; but her thoughts were so confused that they could not fix upon
anything rightly. She tried to compose herself, and to think the whole
affair over again; but she could not. There was something so strange in
what had passed! The sudden--the total change in her opinion--her total
loss of confidence! She tried to put all thoughts and feelings out of her
mind, and just to lie stupified if she could, that she might get rid of the
pain in her head. She had no idea whether it was late or early, and was
going to get up to look at her watch, when she heard the first bell, half
an hour before breakfast, and this was the time when Cecilia usually opened
the door between their rooms. She dreaded the sound, but when she had
expected it some minutes, she became impatient even for that which she
feared; she wanted to have it over, and she raised herself on her elbow,
and listened with acute impatience: at last the door was thrown wide open,
and bright and gay as ever, in came Cecilia, but at the first sight of
Helen on her bed, wan and miserable, she stopped short.

"My dearest Helen! what can be the matter?"

"Mr. Beauclerc--"

"Well! what of him?" cried Cecilia, and she smiled.

"Oh, Cecilia! do not smile; you cannot imagine--"

"Oh, yes! but I can," cried Cecilia. "I see how it is; I understand it all;
and miserable and amazed as you look at this moment, I will set all right
for you in one word. He is not going to be married--not engaged."

Helen started up. "Not engaged!"

"No more than you are, my dear! Oh! I am glad to see your colour come
again!"

"Thank Heaven!" cried Helen, "then he is not--"

"A villain!--not at all. He is all that's right; all that is charming, my
dear. So thank Heaven, and be as happy as you please."

"But I cannot understand it," said Helen, sinking back; "I really cannot
understand how it is, Cecilia." Cecilia gave her a glass of water in great
haste, and was very sorry, and very glad, and begged forgiveness, and all
in a breath: but as yet Helen did not know what she had to forgive, till it
was explained to her in direct words, that Cecilia had told her not only
what was not true, but what she at the time of telling knew to be false.

"For what purpose, oh! my dear Cecilia! All to save me from a little
foolish embarrassment at first, you have made us miserable at last."

"Miserable! my dear Helen; at worst miserable only for half an hour.
Nonsense! lie down again, and rest your poor head. I will go this minute to
Granville. Where is he?"

"Gone! Gone for ever! Those were his last words."

"Impossible! absurd! Only what a man says in a passion. But where is he
gone? Only to Old Forest! Gone for ever--gone till dinner-time! Probably
coming back at this moment in all haste, like a true lover, to beg your
pardon for your having used him abominably ill. Now, smile; do not shake
your head, and look so wretched; but tell me exactly, word for word and
look for look, all that passed between you, and then I shall know what is
best to be done."

Word for word Helen could not answer, for she had been so much confused,
but she told to the best of her recollection; and Cecilia still thought
no great harm was done. She only looked a little serious from the
apprehension, now the real, true apprehension, of what might happen about
Lady Blanche, who, as she believed, was at Old Forest. "Men are so foolish;
men in love, so rash. Beauclerc, in a fit of anger and despair on being so
refused by the woman he loved, might go and throw himself at the feet
of another for whom he did not care in the least, in a strange sort of
revenge. But I know how to settle it all, and I will do it this moment."

But Helen caught hold of her hand, and firmly detaining it, absolutely
objected to her doing anything without telling her exactly and truly what
she was going to do.

Lady Cecilia assured her that she was only going to inquire from the
general whether Lady Blanche was with her sister at Old Forest, or not.
"Listen to me, my dear Helen; what I am going to say can do no mischief.
If Lady Blanche is there, then the best thing to be done is, for me to go
immediately, this very morning, to pay the ladies a visit on their coming
to the country, and I will bring back Granville. A word will bring him
back. I will only tell him there was a little mistake, or if you think
it best, I will tell him the whole truth. Let me go--only let me go and
consult the general before the breakfast-bell rings, for I shall have no
time afterwards."

Helen let her go, for as Beauclerc had told her that he had opened his mind
to the general, she thought it was best that he should hear all that had
happened.

The moment the general saw Lady Cecilia come in, he smiled, and said,
"Well! my dear Cecilia, you have seen Helen this morning, and she has seen
Beauclerc--what is the result? Does he stay, or go?"

"He is gone!" said Cecilia. The general looked surprised and sorry. "He did
not propose for her," continued Cecilia, "he did not declare himself--he
only began to sound her opinion of him, and she--she contrived to
misunderstand--to offend him, and he is gone, but only to Old Forest, and
we can have him back again directly."

"That is not likely," said the general, "because I know that Beauclerc had
determined, that if he went he would not return for some time. Your friend
Helen was to decide. If she gave him any hope, that is, permitted him to
appear as her declared admirer, he could, with propriety, happiness, and
honour, remain here; if not, my dear Cecilia, you must be sensible that he
is right to go."

"Gone for some time!" repeated Cecilia, "you mean as long as Lady
Castlefort is here."

"Yes," said the general.

"I wish she was gone, I am sure, with all my heart," said Cecilia; "but
in the mean time, tell me, my dear Clarendon, do you know whether Lord
Beltravers' sisters are at Old Forest?"

The general did not think that Lady Blanche had arrived; he was not
certain, but he knew that the Comtesse de St. Cymon had arrived yesterday.

"Then," said Cecilia, "it would be but civil to go to see the comtesse. I
will go this morning."

General Clarendon answered instantly, and with decision, that she must not
think of such a thing--that it could not be done. "Madame de St. Cymon is a
woman of doubtful reputation, not a person with whom Lady Cecilia Clarendon
ought to form any acquaintance."

"No, not form an acquaintance--I'm quite aware of that," and eagerly she
pleaded that she had no intention of doing anything; "but just one morning
visit paid and returned, you know, leads to nothing. Probably we shall
neither of us be at home, and never meet; and really it would be such a
marked thing not to pay this visit to the Beltravers family on their return
to the country. Formerly there was such a good understanding between the
Forresters and your father; and really hospitality requires it. Altogether
this one visit really must be paid, it cannot be helped, so I will order
the carriage."

"It must not be done!" the general said; "it is a question of right, not of
expediency."

"Right, but there is nothing really wrong, surely; I believe all that has
been said of her is scandal. Nobody is safe against reports--the public
papers are so scandalous! While a woman lives with her husband, it is but
charitable to suppose all is right. That's the rule. Besides, we should not
throw the first stone." Then Lady Cecilia pleaded, lady this and lady that,
and the whole county, without the least scruple would visit Madame de St.
Cymon.

"Lady this and lady that may do as they please, or as their husbands think
proper or improper, that is no rule for Lady Cecilia Clarendon; and as
to the whole county, or the whole world, what is that to me, when I have
formed my own determination?"

The fact was, that at this very time Madame de St. Cymon was about to be
separated from her husband. A terrible discovery had just been made. Lord
Beltravers had brought his sister to Old Forest to bide her from London
disgrace; there he intended to leave her to rusticate, while he should
follow her husband to Paris immediately, to settle the terms of separation
or divorce.

"Beauclerc, no doubt, will go to Paris with him," said the general.

"To Paris! when will he set out?"

"To-day--directly, if Helen has decidedly rejected him; but you say he did
not declare himself. Pray tell me all at once."

And if she had done so, all might have been well; but she was afraid. Her
husband was as exact about _some things_ as her mother; he would certainly
be displeased at the deception she had practised on Helen; she could not
tell him that, not at this moment, for she had just fooled him to the top
of his bent about this visit; she would find a better time; she so dreaded
the instant change of his smile--the look of disapprobation; she was so
cowardly; in short, the present pain of displeasing--the consequences even
of her own folly, she never could endure, and to avoid it she had always
recourse to some new evasion; and now, when Helen--her dear Helen's
happiness, was at stake, she faltered--she paltered--she would not for the
world do her any wrong; but still she thought she could manage without
telling the whole--she would tell nothing _but_ the truth. So, after a
moment's hesitation, while all these thoughts went through her mind, when
the general repeated his question, and begged to know at once what was
passing in her little head; she smiled in return for that smile which
played on her husband's face while he fondly looked upon her, and she
answered, "I am thinking of poor Helen. She has made a sad mistake--and has
a horrid headache at this moment--in short she has offended Beauclerc past
endurance--past his endurance--and he went off in a passion before she
found out her mistake. In short, we must have him back again; could you go,
my dear love--or write directly?"

"First let me understand," said the general. "Miss Stanley has made a
mistake--what mistake?"

"She thought Beauclerc was engaged to Lady Blanche."

"How could she think so? What reason had she?"

"She had been told so by somebody."

"Somebody!--that eternal scandal-monger Lady Katrine, I suppose."

"No--not Lady Katrine," said Cecilia; "but I am not at liberty to tell you
whom."

"No matter; but Miss Stanley is not a fool; she could not believe somebody
or anybody, contrary to common sense."

"No, but Beauclerc did not come quite to proposing--and you know she
had been blamed for refusing Mr. Churchill before she was asked--and in
short--in love, people do not always know what they are about."

"I do not understand one word of it," said the general; "nor I am sure do
you, my dear Cecilia." "Yes, I really do, but----"

"My dear Cecilia, I assure you it is always best to let people settle their
love affairs their own way."

"Yes, certainly--I would not interfere in the least--only to get Granville
back again--and then let them settle it their own way. Cannot you call at
Old Forest?"

"No."

"Could you not write?"

"No--not unless I know the whole. I will do nothing in the dark. Always
tell your confessor, your lawyer, your physician, your friend, your whole
case, or they are fools or rogues if they act for you; go back and repeat
this to Helen Stanley from me."

"But, my dear, she will think it so unkind."

"Let her show me how I can serve her, and I will do it."

"Only write a line to Beauclerc--say, 'Beauclerc come back,--here has been
a mistake.'" She would have put a pen into his hand, and held paper to him.

"Let me know the whole, and then, and not till then, can I judge whether I
should be doing right for her or not." The difficulty of telling the whole
had increased to Lady Cecilia, even from the hesitation and prevarication
she had now made. "Let me see Helen,--let me speak to her myself, and
learn what this strange nonsensical mystery is." He was getting impatient.
"Cannot I see Miss Stanley?"

"Why no, my dear love, not just now, she has such a headache! She is lying
down. There is the breakfast-bell--after breakfast, if you please. But I
am clear she would rather not speak to you herself on the subject."

"Then come down to breakfast, my dear, and let her settle it her own
way--that is much the best plan. Interference in love matters always does
mischief. Come to breakfast, my dear--I have no time to lose--I must be off
to a court-martial."

He looked at his watch, and Cecilia went half down stairs with him, and
then ran back to keep Helen quiet by the assurance that all would
be settled--all would be right, and that she would send her up some
breakfast--she must not think of coming down; and Cecilia lamented half
breakfast-time--how subject to headaches poor Helen was; and through this
and through all other conversation she settled what she would do for her.
As the last resource, she would tell the whole truth--not to her husband,
she loved him too well to face his displeasure for one moment--hut to
Beauclerc; and writing would be so much easier than speaking--without
being put to the blush she could explain it all to Beauclerc, and turn
it playfully; and he would be so happy that he would be only too glad to
forgive her, and to do anything she asked. She concocted and wrote a very
pretty letter, in which she took all the blame fully on herself--did
perfect justice to Helen; said she wrote without her knowledge, and
depended entirely upon his discretion, so he must come back of his own
accord, and keep her counsel. This letter, however, she could not despatch
so soon as she had expected; she could not send a servant with it till
the general should be off to his court-martial. Now had Cecilia gone the
straight-forward way to work, her husband could in that interval, and
would, have set all to rights; but this to Cecilia was impossible; she
could only wait in an agony of impatience till the general and his officers
were all out of the way, and then she despatched a groom with her letter to
Old Forest, and desired him to return as fast as possible, while she went
to Helen's room, to while away the time of anxious suspense as well as she
could; and she soon succeeded in talking herself into excellent spirits
again. "Now, my dear Helen, if that unlucky mistake had not been made,--if
you had not fancied that Granville was married already,--and if he had
actually proposed for you,--what would you have said?--in short--would you
have accepted him?"

"Oh! Cecilia, I do hope he will understand how it all was; I hope he will
believe that I esteem him as I always did: as to love--"

Helen paused, and Lady Cecilia went on: "As to love, nobody knows
anything about it till it comes--and here it is coming, I do believe!"
continued she, looking out of the window.--No! not Mr. Beauclerc, but
the man she had sent with her letter, galloping towards the house.
Disappointed not to see Beauclerc himself, she could only conclude that
as he had not his horse with him, he was returning in the boat. The
answer to her letter was brought in. At the first glance on the
direction, her countenance changed. "Not Granville's hand!--what can
have happened?" She tore open the note, "He is gone!--gone with Lord
Beltravers--set off!--gone to Paris!" Helen said not one word, and
Cecilia, in despair, repeated, "Gone!--gone!--absolutely gone! Nothing
more can he done. Oh, that I had done nothing about it! All has failed!
Heaven knows what may happen now! Oh! if I could but have let it all
alone! I never, never can forgive myself! My dear Helen, be angry with
me--reproach me: pray--pray reproach me as I deserve!" But Helen could
not blame one who so blamed herself--one who, however foolish and wrong
she had been, had done it all from the kindest motives. In the agony of
her penitence, she now told Helen all that had passed between her and
the general; that, to avoid the shame of confessing to him her first
deception, she had gone on another and another step in these foolish
evasions, contrivances, and mysteries; how, thinking she could manage
it, she had written without his knowledge; and now, to complete her
punishment, not only had every thing which she had attempted failed, but
a consequence which she could never have foreseen had happened.--"Here I
am, with a note actually in my hand from this horrid Madame de St.
Cymon, whom Clarendon absolutely would not hear of my even calling upon!
Look what she writes to me. She just took advantage of this opportunity
to begin a correspondence before an acquaintance: but I will never
answer her. Here is what she says:--

"'The Comtesse de St. Cymon exceedingly regrets that Lady Cecilia
Clarendon's servant did not arrive in time to deliver her ladyship's letter
into Mr. Beauclerc's own hand. Mr. B. left Old Forest with Lord Beltravers
early to-day for Paris. The Comtesse de St. Cymon, understanding that
Lady Cecilia Clarendon is anxious that there should be as little delay as
possible in forwarding her letter, and calculating that if returned by her
ladyship's servant it must be too late for this day's post from Clarendon
Park, has forwarded it immediately with her own letters to Paris, which
cannot fail to meet Mr. Beauclerc directly on his arrival there.'

"Oh!" cried Lady Cecilia, "how angry the general would be if he knew of
this!" She tore the note to the smallest bits as she spoke, and threw them
away; and next she begged that Helen would never say a word about it. There
was no use in telling the general what would only vex him, and what could
not be helped; and what could lead to nothing, for she should never answer
this note, nor have any further communication of any kind with Madame de
St. Cymon.

Helen, nevertheless, thought it would be much better to tell the general of
it, and she wondered how Cecilia could think of doing otherwise, and just
when she had so strongly reproached herself, and repented of these foolish
mysteries; and this was going on another step. "Indeed, Cecilia," said
Helen, "I wish--on my own account I wish you would not conceal anything. It
is hard to let the general suspect me of extreme folly and absurdity, or
of some sort of double dealing in this business, in which I have done my
utmost to do right and to go straightforward." Poor Helen, with her nervous
headache beating worse and worse, remonstrated and entreated, and came to
tears; and Lady Cecilia promised that it should be all done as she desired;
but again she charged and besought Helen to say nothing herself about the
matter to the general: and this acceded to, Lady Cecilia's feelings being
as transient as they were vehement, all her self-reproaches, penitence, and
fears passed away, and, taking her bright view of the whole affair, she
ended with the certainty that Beauclerc, would return the moment he
received her letter; that he would have it in a very few days, and all
would end well, and quite as well as if she had not been a fool.

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