The Father and Daughter 4

The Father and Daughter 4

"Who is that elegant, fashionable-looking man, my lord, in the lower box

just opposite to us?" said one of the gentlemen to the other.--"I mean,

he who is speaking to captain Mowbray."--"It is George Clifford, of the

guards," replied his lordship, "and one of the cleverest fellows in

England, colonel."

 

Agnes, who had not missed one word of this conversation, now became

still more attentive.

 

"Oh! I have heard a great deal of him," returned the colonel, "and as

much against him as for him."--"Most likely," said his lordship; "I dare

say that fellow has ruined more young men, and seduced more young women,

than any man of his age (which is only four-and-thirty) in the

kingdom."

 

Agnes sighed deeply, and felt herself attacked by a sort of faint

sickness.

 

"But it is to be hoped that he will reform now," observed the colonel:

"I hear he is going to be married to miss Sandford, the great city

heiress."--"So he is,--and Monday is the day fixed for the wedding."

 

Agnes started:--Clifford himself had told her he must leave her on

Monday for some weeks;--and in breathless expectation she listened to

what followed.

 

--"But what then?" continued his lordship: "He marries for money merely.

The truth is, his father is lately come to a long disputed barony, and

with scarcely an acre of land to support the dignity of it: so his son

has consented to marry an heiress, in order to make the family rich,

as well as noble. You must know, I have my information from the

fountain-head;--Clifford's mother is my relation, and the good woman

thought proper to acquaint me in form with the _advantageous_ alliance

which her hopeful son was about to make."

 

This _confirmation_ of the truth of a story, which she till now hoped

might be mere report, was more than Agnes could well bear; but, made

courageous by desperation, she resolved to listen while they continued

to talk on this subject. Mrs. Askew, in the mean while, was leaning over

the box, too much engrossed by the farce to attend to what was passing

behind her. Just as his lordship concluded the last sentence, Agnes saw

Clifford go out with his friend; and she who had but the minute before

gazed on him with looks of admiring fondness, now wished, in the

bitterness of her soul, that she might never behold him again!

 

"I never wish," said the colonel, "a match of interest to be a happy

one."--"Nor will this be so, depend on it," answered his lordship;

"for, besides that miss Sandford is ugly and disagreeable, she has a

formidable rival."--"Indeed!" cried the other;--"a favourite mistress, I

suppose?"

 

Here the breath of Agnes grew shorter and shorter; she suspected that

they were going to talk of her; and, under other circumstances, her nice

sense of honour would have prevented her attending to a conversation

which she was certain was not meant for her ear: but so great was the

importance of the present discourse to her future peace and well-being,

that it annihilated all sense of impropriety in listening to it.

 

"Yes, he has a favourite mistress," answered his lordship,--"a girl

who was worthy of a better fate."--"You know her then?" asked the

colonel.--"No," replied he,--"by name only; but when I was in the

neighbourhood of the town where she lived, I heard continually of her

beauty and accomplishments: her name is Agnes Fitz--Fitz--"--"Fitzhenry,

I suppose," said the other.--"Yes, that is the name," said his lordship:

"How came you to guess it?"--"Because Agnes Fitzhenry is a name which I

have often heard toasted: she sings well, does she not?"--"She does

every thing well," rejoined the other; "and was once the pride of her

father, and of the town in which she lived."

 

Agnes could scarcely forbear groaning aloud at this faithful picture of

what she once was.

 

"Poor thing!" resumed his lordship;--"that ever she should be the victim

of a villain! It seems he seduced her from her father's house, under

pretence of carrying her to Gretna-green; but, on some infernal plea or

other, he took her to London."

 

Here the agitation of Agnes became so visible as to attract Mrs. Askew's

notice; but as she assured her that she should be well presently, Mrs.

Askew again gave herself up to the illusion of the scene. Little did his

lordship think how severely he was wounding the peace of one for whom he

felt such compassion.

 

"You seem much interested about this unhappy girl," said the

colonel.--"I am so," replied the other, "and full of the subject too;

for Clifford's factotum, Wilson, has been with me this morning, and I

learned from him some of his master's tricks, which made me still more

anxious about his victim.--It seems she is very fond of her father,

though she was prevailed on to desert him, and has never known a happy

moment since her elopement; nor could she be easy without making

frequent but secret inquiries concerning his health."--"Strange

inconsistency!" muttered the colonel.--"This anxiety gave Clifford room

to fear that she might at some future moment, if discontented with him,

return to her afflicted parent before he was tired of her:--so what do

you think he did?"

 

At this moment Agnes, far more eager to hear what followed than the

colonel, turned round, and, fixing her eyes on her unknown friend with

wild anxiety, could scarcely help saying, What did Clifford do, my lord?

 

--"He got his factotum, the man I mentioned, to personate a messenger,

and to pretend that he had been to her native town, and then he gave her

such accounts as were best calculated to calm her anxiety: but the

master-stroke which secured her remaining with him was, his telling

the pretended messenger to inform her that her father was _married

again_,--though it is more likely, poor unhappy man, that he is dead,

than that he is married."

 

At the mention of this horrible probability, Agnes lost all

self-command, and, screaming aloud, fell back on the knees of the

astonished narrator, reiterating her cries with all the alarming

helplessness of phrensy.

 

"Turn her out! turn her out!" echoed through the theatre,--for the

audience supposed that the noise proceeded from some intoxicated and

abandoned woman; and a man in the next box struck Agnes a blow on the

shoulder, and, calling her by a name too gross to repeat, desired her to

leave the house, and act her drunken freaks elsewhere.

 

Agnes, whom the gentlemen behind were supporting with great kindness

and compassion, heard nothing of this speech save the injurious epithet

applied to herself; and alive only to what she thought the justice of

it, "Did you hear that?" she exclaimed, starting up with the look and

tone of phrensy--"Did you hear that?--O God! my brain is on

fire!"--Then, springing over the seat, she rushed out of the box,

followed by the trembling and astonished Mrs. Askew, who in vain tried

to keep pace with the desperate speed of Agnes.

 

Before Agnes, with all her haste, could reach the bottom of the stairs,

the farce ended and the lobbies began to fill. Agnes pressed forward,

when amongst the crowd she saw a tradesman who lived near her father's

house.--No longer sensible of shame, for anguish had annihilated it, she

rushed towards him, and, seizing his arm, exclaimed, "For the love of

God, tell me how my father is!" The tradesman, terrified and astonished

at the pallid wildness of her look, so unlike the countenance of

successful and contented vice that he would have expected to see her

wear, replied--"He is well, poor soul! but----"--"But unhappy, I

suppose?" interrupted Agnes:--"Thank God he is well:--but is he

married?"--"Married! dear me, no! he is--"--"Do you think he would

forgive me?" eagerly rejoined Agnes.--"Forgive you!" answered

the man--"How you talk! Belike he might forgive you, if--"--"I

know what you would say," interrupted Agnes again, "if I would

return--Enough,--enough:--God bless you! you have saved me from

distraction."

 

So saying, she ran out of the house; Mrs. Askew having overtaken her,

followed by the nobleman and the colonel, who with the greatest

consternation had found, from an exclamation of Mrs. Askew's, that the

object of their compassion was miss Fitzhenry herself.

 

But before Agnes had proceeded many steps down the street Clifford met

her, on his return from a neighbouring coffee-house with his companion;

and, spite of her struggles and reproaches, which astonished and alarmed

him, he, with Mrs. Askew's assistance, forced her into a hackney-coach,

and ordered the man to drive home.--No explanation took place during the

ride. To all the caresses and questions of Clifford she returned nothing

but passionate exclamations against his perfidy and cruelty. Mrs. Askew

thought her insane; Clifford wished to think her so; but his conscience

told him that, if by accident his conduct had been discovered to her,

there was reason enough for the frantic sorrow which he witnessed.

 

At length they reached their lodgings, which were in Suffolk-street,

Charing-cross; and Agnes, having at length obtained some composure,

in as few words as possible related the conversation which she had

overheard. Clifford, as might be expected, denied the truth of what his

lordship had advanced; but it was no longer in his power to deceive the

awakened penetration of Agnes.--Under his assumed unconcern, she clearly

saw the confusion of detected guilt: and giving utterance in very strong

language to the contempt and indignation which she felt, while

contemplating such complete depravity, she provoked Clifford, who was

more than half intoxicated, boldly to avow what he was at first eager to

deny; and Agnes, who before shuddered at his hypocrisy, was now shocked

at his unprincipled daring.

 

"But what right have you to complain?" added he: "the cheat that I put

upon you relative to your father was certainly meant in kindness; and

though miss Sandford will have my hand, you alone will ever possess my

heart; therefore it was my design to keep you in ignorance of my

marriage, and retain you as the greatest of all my worldly

treasures.--Plague on this prating lord! he has destroyed the prettiest

arrangement ever made. However, I hope we shall part good friends."

 

"Great God!" cried Agnes, raising her tearless eyes to heaven,--"and

have I then forsaken the best of parents for a wretch like this!--But

think not, sir," she added, turning with a commanding air towards

Clifford, whose temper, naturally warm, the term 'wretch' had not

soothed, "think not, fallen as I am, that I will ever condescend to

receive protection and support, either for myself or child, from a man

whom I know to be a consummate villain. You have made me criminal, but

you have not obliterated my horror for crime and my veneration for

virtue,--and, in the fulness of my contempt, I inform you, sir, that we

shall meet no more."

 

"Not till to-morrow," said Clifford:--"this is our first quarrel, Agnes;

and the quarrels of lovers are only the renewal of love, you know:

therefore leaving the 'bitter, piercing air' to guard my treasure for me

till to-morrow, I take my leave, and hope in the morning to find you in a better humour."