The kind looks, and determined approbation of the Admiral, gave Juliet, now, courage to address him with a petition for his advice, how she might arrive most expeditiously at Torbay.
‘Torbay?’ he repeated, ‘why I could send you in my boat. But what,—’ his brow overclouding, ‘what has a modest girl to do at Torbay?’
Juliet answered, that she should join, there, a friend whom she meant to accompany to the continent.
Every mark of favour was now changed into disdainful displeasure; and, turning abruptly away from her, he muttered to himself, though aloud, that women’s going abroad, to outlandish places, whereby they learnt more how to dizen themselves, and cut capers, than how to become good wives and mothers, was what he could not uphold; and would not lend a hand to; and then, without looking at her, he sullenly entered his own apartment.
The disappointed Juliet, utterly overset, was still dejectedly ruminating in the corridor, when she heard the servants of Mrs Howel announce, that their lady’s carriage was ready.
She then recovered her feet, to escape any fresh offence by regaining her apartment.
Her situation appeared to her now to be as extraordinary, as it was sad and difficult. Entitled to an ample fortune, yet pennyless; indebted for her sole preservation from insult and from famine, to pecuniary obligations from accidental acquaintances, and those acquaintances, men! pursued, with documents of legal right, by one whom she shuddered to behold, and to whom she was so irreligiously tied, that she could not, even if she wished it, regard herself as his lawful wife; though so entangled, that her fetters seemed to be linked with duty and honour; unacknowledged,—perhaps disowned by her family; and, though born to a noble and yet untouched fortune, consigned to disguise, to debt, to indigence, and to flight!
While mournfully taking this review of her condition, and seeking, but vainly, to form some plan for its amelioration, she heard the potent voice of the Admiral call out, ‘To Powderham Castle,’ as a carriage drove from the house; but ere she had time to lament the mortifying errour of her benevolent, though ill judging friend, the approach to the door of some other vehicle, announced a fresh arrival; and, presently, all difficulties were absorbed in immediate terrour, as again she heard that sound, which, of all others, most severely shocked her nerves, the voice of Mrs Howel.
What could cause this abrupt return? Had she received the directions of Lord Denmeath? Was a new persecution arranged? or,—more horrible than all,—had means been devized, for casting again the most wretched of victims into the hands of the most terrific of her foes?
Tremblingly she listened to every noise. A general commotion, with quick pacing feet, spoke the entrance into the house of sundry servants; and, presently, she distinctly heard the apartment of Mrs Howel taken possession of by that lady, and by some person with whom she was discoursing.
All now, for about a quarter of an hour, was still. She was then alarmed by a rustling sound, and a single footstep in the corridor: it approached, stopt, seemed turning back; approached again; and, after a few minutes, she was startled by a tapping at her door.
She shook, she was all dismay and apprehension: she hesitated whether to bolt herself in, or to accord admission; but a second tap bringing to her reflection how short, how futile, how ineffectual would be any resistance, she turned the key, opened her door, and her room was instantly entered.
Often, in the course of her long struggles and difficulties, had Juliet been struck with astonishment; but never had she known surprize that could bear any comparison with that which she experienced at this moment; when, expecting to see Mrs Howel, or Lord Denmeath; when, prepared for reproach, for menace, and for insult; she saw, as fearfully she raised her eyes, instead of all that she dreaded and loathed, all that she thought most sweet, most lovely, most perfect upon earth, in the elegant form, and softly expressive face of Lady Aurora Granville, who, with eyes glistening, and arms opening, gently ejaculated, ‘My sister!’ and fell, weeping, upon her neck.
Juliet nearly ceased to breathe: wonder, yet incredulity, took possession of her faculties, and she knew not whether it were possible that this could be reality till the big surprize, mingled with the almost too powerful delight of her bosom, found some vent in a violent burst of tears.
Tender embraces, fond and open on the part of Lady Aurora, transported, yet fearful and doubtful, on that of Juliet, kept them for some minutes weeping in each other’s arms. ‘Can you, then,—’ cried the penetrated Juliet,—‘may I believe in such felicity?—Can you condescend so far as not to disdain,—disclaim,—and turn away from so unhappy a relation? so distressed,—so helpless,—so desolate an object?’
‘Oh! hush! hush! hush!’ cried Lady Aurora, putting her hand upon the mouth of Juliet; ‘you must not break my heart by such an idea,—such a profanation! by making me apprehend that you could ever think me such a monster! Did I wait till I knew your rights to my affection before I loved you? Did I not divine them from the moment I first conversed with you?’
Folding, then, her white arms around Juliet, with redoubled tenderness, ‘Oh my sweet Miss Ellis!’ she cried. ‘Let me call you still a little while by that dear name! I have loved it so fondly that I can hardly love more even to call you my dearest sister! How you have engaged my thoughts; rested upon my imagination; occupied my ideas; been ever uppermost in my memory; and always highest,—Oh! higher than any one in my esteem and admiration! long, long before this loved moment, when Sir Jaspar Herrington’s letter makes my enthusiasm but a tender duty!’
‘Ah! Lady Aurora!’ cried Juliet, ‘what sufferings are not repaid by a moment such as this! by a blessing so superlative, as thus to be acknowledged, thus to be received, by the person whose virtues and whose sweetness would have made me delight in her favour, had I never wanted protection! had my lot in life been the most brilliant!’
‘Oh hush! sweet sister, hush!’ interrupted Lady Aurora, again stopping her mouth; ‘what words are these? favour!—Lady Aurora!—Ah! never let me hear them more, if you love me! What have we to do with such phrases? Are we not sisters? Shall I use such to you? Would you love me if I did? Would you not rather chide me?’
Juliet could only shed tears, though tears so delicious, that it was luxury to shed them. Lady Aurora would have kissed them from her cheeks; but her own mingled with them so copiously, that it was not possible; and though the smiles of expressive joy that brightened each countenance, shewed their sensibility to be but fulness of happiness, the meeting, the acknowledgment, with the throbbing recollection of all that was passed, so touched each gentle heart, that they could but weep and embrace, embrace and weep, alternately.
‘I have coveted,’ at length cried Juliet, ‘almost beyond light or life, I have coveted this precious moment! When first I heard you named,—you and Lord Melbury,—on the evening of the play, at Mrs Maple’s, Oh! what were my emotions! my satisfaction, my apprehensions, my hopes, and my solicitude! When I saw two beings so sweet, so formed to create esteem and love, so innocent, so unassuming, so attractive,—and whispered to myself, Are these my nearest relations? Is this my sister? Is this my brother?—how did my heart expand with joy and p............