"I have not the least idea," cried he, "of what you mean."
"Why then, my Lord," said I, "we had better let the subject drop."
"Impossible!" cried he, "I cannot rest without an explanation!"
And then, he obliged me to speak very openly of both the letters: but, my dear Sir, imagine my surprise, when he a.s.sured me, in the most solemn manner, that, far from having ever written me a single line, he had never received, seen, or heard of my letter!
This subject, which caused mutual astonishment and perplexity to us both, entirely engrossed us for the rest of the evening; and he made me promise to show him the letter I had received in his name to-morrow morning, that he might endeavour to discover the author.
After supper, the conversation became general.
And now, my dearest Sir, may I not call for your congratulations upon the events of this day? a day never to be recollected by me but with the most grateful joy! I know how much you are inclined to think well of Lord Orville; I cannot, therefore, apprehend that my frankness to him will displease you. Perhaps the time is not very distant, when your Evelina"s choice may receive the sanction of her best friend"s judgment and approbation,-which seems now all she has to wish!
In regard to the change in my situation which must first take place, surely I cannot be blamed for what has pa.s.sed! the partiality of Lord Orville must not only reflect honour upon me, but upon all to whom I do, or may belong.
Adieu, most dear Sir, I will write again when I arrive at London.
LETTER LXXVII.
EVELINA IN CONTINUATION. Clifton, Oct. 7th.
YOU will see, my dear Sir, that I was mistaken in supposing I should write no more from this place, where my residence now seems more uncertain than ever.
This morning, during breakfast, Lord Orville took an opportunity to beg me, in a low voice, to allow him a moment"s conversation before I left Clifton; "May I hope," added he, "that you will stroll into the garden after breakfast?"
I made no answer, but I believe my looks gave no denial; for, indeed, I much wished to be satisfied concerning the letter. The moment, therefore, that I could quit the parlour, I ran up stairs for my calash; but, before I reached my room, Mrs. Selwyn called after me, "If you are going to walk, Miss Anville, be so good as to bid Jenny bring down my hat, and I"ll accompany you."
Very much disconcerted, I turned into the drawing-room, without making any answer, and there I hoped to wait unseen, till she had otherwise disposed of herself. But, in a few minutes, the door opened, and Sir Clement Willoughby entered.
Starting at the sight of him, in rising hastily, I let drop the letter which I had brought for Lord Orville"s inspection, and, before I could recover it, Sir Clement, springing forward, had it in his hand. He was just presenting it to me, and, at the same time, enquiring after my health, when the signature caught his eye, and he read aloud, "Orville."
I endeavoured, eagerly, to s.n.a.t.c.h it from him, but he would not permit me; and, holding it fast, in a pa.s.sionate manner exclaimed, "Good G.o.d, Miss Anville, is it possible you can value such a letter as this?"
The question surprised and confounded me, and I was too much ashamed to answer him; but, finding he made an attempt to secure it, I prevented him, and vehemently demanded him to return it.
"Tell me first," said he, holding it above my reach, "tell me if you have since received any more letters from the same person?"
"No, indeed," cried I, "never!"
"And will you also, sweetest of women, promise that you never will receive any more? Say that, and you will make me the happiest of men."
"Sir Clement," cried I, greatly confused, "pray give me the letter."
"And will you not first satisfy my doubts?-will you not relieve me from the torture of the most distracting suspense?-tell me but that the detested Orville has written to you no more!"
"Sir Clement," cried I, angrily, "you have no right to make any conditions,-so pray give me the letter directly."
"Why such solicitude about this hateful letter? can it possibly deserve your eagerness? tell me, with truth, with sincerity tell me, does it really merit the least anxiety?"
"No matter, Sir," cried I, in great perplexity, "the letter is mine, and therefore-"
"I must conclude, then," said he, "that the letter deserves your utmost contempt,-but that the name of Orville is sufficient to make you prize it."
"Sir Clement," cried I, colouring, "you are quite-you are very much-the letter is not-"
"O, Miss Anville," cried he, "you blush!-you stammer!-Great Heaven! it is then all as I feared!"
"I know not," cried I, half-frightened, "what you mean; but I beseech you to give me the letter, and to compose yourself."
"The letter," cried he, gnashing his teeth, "you shall never see more! You ought to have burnt it the moment you had read it!" And in an instant he tore it into a thousand pieces.
Alarmed at a fury so indecently outrageous, I would have run out of the room; but he caught hold of my gown, and cried, "Not yet, not yet must you go! I am but half-mad yet, and you must stay to finish your work. Tell me, therefore, does Orville know your fatal partiality?-Say yes," added he, trembling with pa.s.sion, "and I will fly you for ever!"
"For Heaven"s sake, Sir Clement," cried I, "release me!-if you do not, you will force me to call for help."
"Call then," cried he, "inexorable and most unfeeling girl; call, if you please, and bid all the world witness your triumph;-but could ten worlds obey your call, I would not part from you till you had answered me. Tell me, then, does Orville know you love him?"
At any other time, an enquiry so gross would have given me inexpressible confusion; but now, the wildness of his manner terrified me, and I only said, "Whatever you wish to know, Sir Clement, I will tell you another time; but, for the present, I entreat you to let me go!"
"Enough," cried he, "I understand you!-the art of Orville has prevailed;-cold, inanimate, phlegmatic as he is, you have rendered him the most envied of men!-One thing more, and I have done:-Will he marry you?"
What a question! my cheeks glowed with indignation, and I felt too proud to make any answer.
"I see, I see how it is," cried he, after a short pause, "and I find I am undone for ever!" Then, letting loose my gown, he put his hand to his forehead, and walked up and down the room in a hasty and agitated manner.