CHAPTER II.
_In Which the Reader Is Again Introduced to Captain Armine, during His Visit to London_.
MISS GRANDISON had resolved upon taking a house in London for theseason, and had obtained a promise from her uncle and aunt to beher guests. Lady Armine's sister was to join them from Bath. As forFerdinand, the spring had gradually restored him to health, but not tohis former frame of mind. He remained moody and indolent, incapable ofexertion, and a prey to the darkest humours; circumstances, however,occurred which rendered some energy on his part absolutely necessary.His creditors grew importunate, and the arrangement of his affairs ordeparture from his native land was an alternative now inevitable. Themonth of April, which witnessed the arrival of the Temples and LordMontfort in England, welcomed also to London Miss Grandison and herguests. A few weeks after, Ferdinand, who had evaded the journey withhis family, and who would not on any account become a guest of hiscousin, settled himself down at a quiet hotel in the vicinity ofGrosvenor-square; but not quite alone, for almost at the last hourGlastonbury had requested permission to accompany him, and Ferdinand,who duly valued the society of the only person with whom he couldconverse about his broken fortunes and his blighted hopes withoutreserve, acceded to his wish with the greatest satisfaction.
A sudden residence in a vast metropolis, after a life of ruralseclusion, has without doubt a very peculiar effect upon the mind. Theimmense population, the multiplicity of objects, the important interestshourly impressed upon the intelligence, the continually occurringevents, the noise, the bustle, the general and widely-spread excitement,all combine to make us keenly sensible of our individual insignificance;and those absorbing passions that in our solitude, fed by ourimagination, have assumed such gigantic and substantial shapes,rapidly subside, by an almost imperceptible process, into less colossalproportions, and seem invested, as it were, with a more shadowy aspect.As Ferdinand Armine jostled his way through the crowded streets ofLondon, urged on by his own harassing and inexorable affairs, andconscious of the impending peril of his career, while power and wealthdazzled his eyes in all directions, he began to look back upon thepassionate past with feelings of less keen sensation than heretofore,and almost to regret that a fatal destiny or his impetuous soul hadentailed upon him so much anxiety, and prompted him to reject theglittering cup of fortune that had been proffered to him so opportunely.He sighed for enjoyment and repose; the memory of his recent sufferingsmade him shrink from that reckless indulgence of the passions, of whichthe consequences had been so severe.
It was in this mood, exhausted by a visit to his lawyer, that hestepped into a military club and took up a newspaper. Caring little forpolitics, his eye wandered over, uninterested, its pugnacious leadingarticles and tedious parliamentary reports; and he was about to throwit down when a paragraph caught his notice which instantly engrossed allhis attention. It was in the 'Morning Post' that he thus read:
'The Marquis of Montfort, the eldest son of the Duke of------, whosereturn to England we recently noticed, has resided for several years inItaly. His lordship is considered one of the most accomplished noblemenof the day, and was celebrated at Rome for his patronage of the arts.Lord Montfort will shortly be united to the beautiful Miss Temple, theonly daughter of the Right Honourable Pelham Temple. Miss Temple isesteemed one of the richest heiresses in England, as she will doubtlessinherit the whole of the immense fortune to which her father sounexpectedly acceded. Mr. Temple is a widower, and has no son. Mr.Temple was formerly our minister at several of the German Courts,where he was distinguished by his abilities and his hospitality to histravelling countrymen. It is said that the rent-roll of the Yorkshireestates of the late Sir Temple Devereux is not less than 15,000L. perannum. The personal property is also very considerable. We understandthat Mr. Temple has purchased the mansion of the Duke of -----, inGrosvenor-square. Lord Montfort accompanied Mr. Temple and his amiabledaughter to this country.'
What a wild and fiery chaos was the mind of Ferdinand Armine when heread this paragraph. The wonders it revealed succeeded each otherwith such rapidity that for some time he was deprived of the power ofreflection. Henrietta Temple in England! Henrietta Temple one ofthe greatest heiresses in the country! Henrietta Temple about to beimmediately married to another! His Henrietta Temple, the HenriettaTemple whom he adored, and by whom he had been worshipped! The HenriettaTemple whose beautiful lock of hair was at this very moment on hisheart! The Henrietta Temple for whom he had forfeited fortune, family,power, almost life!
O Woman, Woman! Put not thy trust in woman! And yet, could he reproachher? Did she not believe herself trifled with by him, outraged,deceived, deluded, deserted? And did she, could she love another? Wasthere another to whom she had poured forth her heart as to him, and allthat beautiful flow of fascinating and unrivalled emotion? Was thereanother to whom she had pledged her pure and passionate soul? Ah, no!he would not, he could not believe it. Light and false Henrietta couldnever be. She had been seen, she had been admired, she had been loved:who that saw her would not admire and love? and he was the victim of herpique, perhaps of her despair.
But she was not yet married. They were, according to these lines, to besoon united. It appeared they had travelled together; that thought gavehim a pang. Could he not see her? Could he not explain all? Could he notprove that his heart had ever been true and fond? Could he not tell herall that had happened, all that he had suffered, all the madness of hismisery; and could she resist that voice whose accents had once been herjoy, that glance which had once filled her heart with rapture? And whenshe found that Ferdinand, her own Ferdinand, had indeed never deceivedher, was worthy of her choice affection, and suffering even at thismoment for her sweet sake, what were all the cold-blooded ties in whichshe had since involved herself? She was his by an older and more ardentbond. Should he not claim his right? Could she deny it?
Claim what? The hand of an heiress. Should it be said that an Arminecame crouching for lucre, where he ought to have commanded for love?Never! Whatever she might think, his conduct had been faultless to her.It was not for Henrietta to complain. She was not the victim, if oneindeed there might chance to be. He had loved her, she had returned hispassion; for her sake he had made the greatest of sacrifices, forfeiteda splendid inheritance, and a fond and faithful heart. When he hadthought of her before, pining perhaps in some foreign solitude, hehad never ceased reproaching himself for his conduct, and had accusedhimself of deception and cruelty; but now, in this moment of her flushprosperity, 'esteemed one of the richest heiresses in England' (heground his teeth as he recalled that phrase), and the affianced brideof a great noble (his old companion, Lord Montfort, too; what a strangething is life!), proud, smiling, and prosperous, while he was alone,with a broken heart and worse than desperate fortunes, and all for hersake, his soul became bitter: he reproached her with want of feeling;he pictured her as void of genuine sensibility; he dilated on herindifference since they had parted; her silence, so strange, now nolonger inexplicable; the total want of interest she had exhibited as tohis career; he sneered at the lightness of her temperament; he cursedher caprice; he denounced her infernal treachery; in the distortedphantom of his agonised imagination she became to him even an object ofhatred.
Poor Ferdinand Armine! it was the first time he had experienced themaddening pangs of jealousy.
Yet how he had loved this woman! How he had doated on her! And now theymight have been so happy! There is nothing that depresses a man so muchas the conviction of bad fortune. There seemed, in this sudden return,great wealth, and impending marriage of Henrietta Temple, such acombination, so far as Ferdinand Armine was concerned, of vexatiouscircumstances; it would appear that he had been so near perfecthappiness and missed it, that he felt quite weary of existence, andseriously meditated depriving himself of it.
It so happened that he had promised this day to dine at his cousin's;for Glastonbury, who was usually his companion, had accepted aninvitation this day to dine with the noble widow of his old patro
n.Ferdinand, however, found himself quite incapable of entering intoany society, and he hurried to his hotel to send a note of excuse toBrook-street. As he arrived, Glastonbury was just about to step into ahackney-coach, so that Ferdinand had no opportunity of communicating hissorrows to his friend, even had he been inclined.