The Castle of Wolfenbach by Eliza Parsons (series like harry potter .TXT) 📕

his love for another, though perhaps that other never can be his. My heart, my honor, does not reproach me with the least duplicity or mean design. Can you, my dear Marquis, from the whole tenor of my conduct, suppose I could be a trifling coxcomb, much less a deliberate villain, for I must hold any man as such who could seek to gain the affections of an amiable woman, to gratify his vanity only? I am equally surprised and concerned,’ said the Marquis, ‘that such misapprehensions should have taken place -‘ ‘And I,’ interrupted Lord Delby, ‘equally displeased and mortified, at being made a party in the business; but there is no accounting for the vanity of women, and how very readily they entertain ideas they wish to indulge. I am very sorry, Count, I have been drawn into this foolish affair, for I observed at first it was very unaccountable, that a man should make his court to one woman, and avowedly profess his admiration of another; I shall however talk to my sister, and I beg the subject may drop and go no further’I feel myself extremely at a loss how to behave,’ said the Count; ‘I think I had better leave Scarborough.’ ‘By no means,’ said his Lordship, hastily; ‘behave as usual to Mrs Courtney, in public, but avoid t��te-��-t��tes; -if she is wise, she will herself approve this method, to escape observation.’

The Count reluctantly submitted, knowing after what had passed, he must appear very awkward in his civilities, which had been so misconceived.

They attended the ladies in the drawing-room, and it being proposed to go to the theatre, the Count, as usual, offered his hand to Mrs Courtney, though with a look of confusion and reserve; she accepted it with a polite and tender air.

Lord Delby, not knowing she had exposed herself to the ladies, requested the Marquis would not mention the affair to them.

The evening past off very well, and at supper they were more cheerful and talkative than usual. The following day however Mrs Courtney appeared with a new face; she looked pensive and unhappy, complained of a pain in her breast, ate little, sighed frequently, and in short, engaged that particular attention we naturally pay to those we love, and see indisposed. The Count looked the image of despair; he addressed her one moment, with an air of tenderness, the next he studiously seemed to avoid her; his behaviour was unequal, confused, and evidently perplexed. Things continued in this state for some days, -Mrs Courtney more melancholy. the Count more distressed; when one day, as they were at table, the Marquis received an express from London. Every one was alarmed; it came from the German Ambassador, requesting the Marquis would instantly come to town, the Count of Wolfenbach being there dangerously ill, and desirous of making all possible reparation to the Countess.

This news suspended all the new schemes. The Countess could scarcely be kept alive; she was apprehensive of some fresh plots, and dreaded the idea of being again within his power. ‘Fear not, madam,’ cried Lord Delby; ‘the monster shall never see you without your friends to protect you.’ ‘Besides, sister,’ urged the Marchioness, ‘the Ambassador is himself a pledge of your safety, and tells us he is dangerously ill, -perhaps the poor wretch cannot die in peace without your pardon.’ ‘O, my God!’ said she, starting up, ‘let me go this instant! -alas ! he has need of forgiveness; his crimes are great, yet if they were the consequence of his love for me, ‘tis my duty to speak peace and pardon; grant heaven!’ cried she, lifting up her hands, ‘I may not come too late ! I will set off this very hour.’ ‘Be composed, my dear sister,’ said the Marquis, ‘we will go this evening; the Marchioness and I will attend you.’ ‘And I,’ ex claimed the Count. ‘We will all accompany you,’ said Lord Delby. ‘Ah! my Lord,’ answered the Countess, ‘why should I so suddenly call you from the amusements of this place: you proposed staying three months, we have only been here a little better than one.’ ‘Wherever my friends are,’ replied Lord Delby, ‘is to me the desirable place; I have no local attachments without their presence; and I dare answer for my sister, she has no objections, as I think the air of Scarborough has been of little use to her health.’ ‘You judge very right, my Lord, I shall certainly accompany our friends,’ said she, in a languid tone, adding, ‘their happiness must constitute mine.’

The Count, who took every thing literally which betrayed generosity of sentiment, could not help saying, ‘ ‘Tis impossible to doubt Mrs Courtney’s concurrence in every scheme productive of pleasure to those she honors with her esteem.’ This compliment made her eyes dance with pleasure.

Their women were called and desired to set about packing immediately. Every thing was hurried on, and at five the next morning they were all on their return to London.

About a week previous to this Matilda received a letter from an unknown hand, and without a name, signifying that the Count De Bouville was paying his addresses to Mrs Courtney; that he was extremely fond of her, but that she hesitated on account of his vows to Matilda, which made him very unhappy.

She read this letter with composure, -she felt some pangs at her heart, she tried to overcome them: ‘Why should I be uneasy,’ said she, ‘have not I wished the Count might make a suitable alliance? - did I not release him from his vows? Alas! I have neither claims nor expectations, -let him marry, I can then renounce the world, and settle here for life, -when lost to him I have only this asylum to bury myself in for ever.’ The tears would flow, but she quickly dried them. ‘From whence this sorrow,’ said she again, ‘had I any hopes O, no! all is despair and bitterness on my side, but I will rejoice in the happiness of the amiable Count, whatever befalls myself.’

Within three days after this, she received a letter from Mrs Courtney; these were the contents:

MY DEAR MISS MATILDA,

Honor, sentiment, and generosity impel me to address you; I am well acquainted with the nobleness of your heart, and can confide in its integrity. You have refused the Count De Bouville, publicly refused him: was there a shadow of hope you ever could be his, I would have been silent; but as I deem that impossible, I trust to your generosity and fortitude, when I tell you, he has for some time past paid his addresses to me, with the warm approbation of all our friends. I at first made objections on your account; he pleaded, you had publicly rejected him; and, as I did not feel satisfied, he offered to write you, and procure his release but knowing men have great duplicity, when they wish to carry a point, I declined his offer and chose to write myself; and I conjure you, my dear Matilda, to believe I will not consent to what he calls his happiness, without your permission. If you have any hopes or expectations; if you think his love may ever return to you, and that different situations may give a countenance to his addresses, and admit of your claims upon him, depend upon it I will dismiss him, however unhappy he may be; for I would not wound your peace, by acceding to his wishes, be the consequence what it may. Your friends, who are mine also, choose to be entirely silent on the subject; nor will they take notice of it, until settled between you and me. Look on me as your friend, dear Matilda, -be explicit -do not consider the Count or myself; speak your wishes, your hopes, and be assured that your felicity is my first wish, whatever it may cost me. I am my dear Matilda’s sincere friend And obedient servant,

MARIA COURTNEY

Prepared as Matilda had been, by the anonymous letter, to expect such intelligence, no words can express her feelings at receiving this letter; overcome with grief, she retired to her apartment and gave loose to the painful emotions that oppressed her. After a little time she grew more composed: ‘Is a heart like his worth regretting?’ cried she. ‘Could he, if his love had been founded on esteem, so soon have offered his addresses to another? O, no! it was only a transient affection, not imprinted on the heart, but vanished with my person: how fortunate then our hands were not joined; how miserable should I have found myself, if united for life to so fickle a disposition.’

Whilst this impression was strong upon her, she took up her pen and wrote the following answer: DEAR MADAM, Accept, I beseech you, my warmest acknowledgements for your very friendly and obliging letter: your candid communications and consideration for my peace, I feel in the most sensible manner; but I beg leave to assure you, madam, neither my happiness nor peace depend now upon the Count De Bouville. I shall always think myself obliged for the affection he offered me, but as it is impossible we should ever meet on those terms, I hope reason has entirely subdued an improper sentiment, and if we ever should meet again, which is not likely, we shall behold each other with the indifference of common acquaintances. I am exceedingly happy here, and, if at the expiration of the twelvemonth Mr Weimar allowed me, my friends will accede to my wishes, and permit my stay in this convent, I trust I shall be happy for the remainder of my life. I hope this will prove satisfactory to your very friendly offers respecting the Count, who has my sincerest wishes for his happiness, with any other woman but her who is, my dear madam, Your much obliged humble servant, MATILDA .

After she had sealed and sent off this letter her spirits grew more tranquillised; she tried to conquer her feelings, and consider only the fickleness of men’s dispositions. ‘Yet why should I upbraid him,’ thought she; ‘he has a family, a name to support, and ought to marry: Mrs Courtney is amiable, has a large independent fortune, respectable friends, and a noble origin to boast of; -what am I in a comparative view with her? Ah!’ cried she, bursting into tears, ‘the retrospection humbles and subdues both my pride and regret: what have I to do but to submit to the lowly state I am placed in, and bless at a distance those generous spirits that have enabled me to procure such an asylum as this.’

Mother Magdalene entered as she was wiping the tears from her cheeks; taking her hand affectionately between hers, ‘My dear young lady, why those tears? spare me the pain of seeing you unhappy; remember this is but a short and transitory life; our pilgrimage through it is painful, no doubt thorns are strewed in our paths, sorrows planted in our bosoms; but if planted and strewed by others, where is the sting to afflict our own hearts? Believe me, dear lady, reason can subdue every affliction but what arises from a condemnation within; with a self-approving conscience we can look forward with hope; and if turbulent and ungracious spirits are too powerful for us to contend with here, we can trust to our Heavenly Father, that our sufferings and patience will meet with a recompence hereafter, far superior to the brightest expectations that can be formed in this life.’ ‘My dear friend and comforter, said Matilda, kissing her hand, ‘be you my monitress if I grieve for temporal evils; yet, alas! my misfortunes are not common ones.’ ‘You think so,’ answered Mother Magdalene; ‘we are all apt to magnify our own troubles, and think them superior to what others feel; but, my dear child,