'Oh! without fail, to-morrow,' cried Maynard: 'if Emily be not well enough to call on you, perhaps you will come to her apartments.'
'Undoubtedly: expect me at twelve o'clock.'
Maynard then shook his grave and silent friend by the hand and, departed,--his vanity not a little flattered by the supposed jealousy of Glenmurray.
'There now,' said Adeline, when he was out of hearing. 'I hope some of your tender fears are done away. You see there are liberal and unprejudiced persons in the world; and Mr Maynard, instead of shunning me, courts my acquaintance for his sisters.'
Glenmurray shook his head, and remained silent; and Adeline was distressed to feel by his burning hand that he was seriously uneasy.
'I shall certainly call on these ladies to-morrow,' continued Adeline:--'I really pine for the society of amiable women.'
Glenmurray sighed deeply: he dreaded to tell her that he could not allow her to call on them, and yet he knew that this painful task awaited him.
Besides, she wished, she said, to know some amiable women; and, eager as he was to indulge all her wishes, he felt but too certainly that in this wish she could never be indulged. Even had he been capable of doing so dishonourable an action as introducing his mistress as his wife, he was sure that Adeline would have spurned at the deception; and silent and sad he grasped Adeline's hand as her arm rested within his, and complaining of indisposition, slowly returned to the inn.
The next morning at breakfast, Adeline again expressed her eagerness to form an acquaintance with the sisters of Mr Maynard; when Glenmurray, starting from his seat, paced the room in considerable agitation.
'What is the matter!' cried Adeline, hastily rising and laying her hand on his arm.
Glenmurray grasped her hand, and replied with a.s.sumed firmness: 'Adeline, it is impossible for you to form an acquaintance with Mr Maynard's sisters: propriety and honour both forbid me to allow it.'
'Indeed!' exclaimed Adeline, 'are they not as amiable, then, as he described them? are they improper acquaintances for me? Well then--I am disappointed: but you are the best judge of what is right, and I am contented to obey you.'
The simple, ingenuous and acquiescent sweetness with which she said this, was a new pang to her lover:--had she repined, had she looked ill-humoured, his task would not have been so difficult.
'But what reason can you give for declining this acquaintance?' resumed Adeline.
'Aye! there's the difficulty,' replied Glenmurray: 'pure-minded and amiable as I know you to be, how can I bear to tell these children of prejudice that you are not my wife, but my mistress?'
Adeline started; and, turning pale, exclaimed, 'Are you sure, then, that they do not know it already?'
'Quite sure--else Maynard would not have thought you a fit companion for his sisters.'
'But surely--he must know your principles;--he must have read your works?'
'I am certain he is ignorant of both, and does not even know that I am an author.'
'Is it possible?' cried Adeline: 'is there any one so unfortunate to be unacquainted with your writings?'
Glenmurray at another time would have been elated at a compliment like this from the woman whom he idolized; but at this moment he heard it with a feeling of pain which he would not have liked to define to himself, and casting his eyes to the ground he said nothing.
'So then,' said Adeline mournfully, 'I am an improper companion for them, not they for me!' and spite of herself her eyes filled with tears.--At this moment a waiter brought in a note for Glenmurray;--it was from Maynard, and as follows:--
MY DEAR FRIEND,
Emily is better to-day; and both my sisters are so impatient to see, and know, your charming wife, that they beg me to present their compliments to Mrs Glenmurray and you; and request the honour of your company to a late breakfast:--at eleven o'clock we hope to see you.
Ever yours, G. M.
'We will send an answer,' said Glenmurray: but the waiter had been gone some minutes before either Adeline or Glenmurray spoke. At length Adeline, struggling with her feelings, observed, 'Mr Maynard seems so amiable a man, that I should think it would not be difficult to convince him of his errors: surely, therefore, it is your duty to call on him, state our real situation, and our reasons for it, and endeavour to convince him that our attachment is sanctioned both by reason and virtue.'
'But not by the church,' replied Glenmurray, 'and Maynard is of the old school: besides, a man of forty-eight is not likely to be convinced by the arguments of a young man of twenty-eight, and the example of a girl of nineteen.'
'If age be necessary to give weight to arguments,' returned Adeline, 'I wonder that you thought proper to publish four years ago.'
'Would to G.o.d I never had published!' exclaimed Glenmurray, almost pettishly.
'If you had not, I probably should never have been yours,' replied Adeline, fondly leaning her head on his shoulder, and then looking up in his face. Glenmurray clasped her to his bosom; but again the pleasure was mixed with pain. 'All this time,' rejoined Adeline, 'your friends are expecting an answer: you had better carry it in person.'
'I cannot,' replied Glenmurray, 'and there is only one way of getting out of this business to my satisfaction.'
'Name it; and rest a.s.sured that I shall approve it.'
'Then I wish to order horses immediately, and set off on our road to France.'
'So soon,--though the air agrees with you so well?'
'O yes;--for when the mind is uneasy no air can be of use to the body.'
'But why is your mind uneasy?'
'Here I should be exposed to see Maynard, and--and--he would see you too.'
'And what then?'
'What then?--Why, I could not bear to see him look on you with an eye of disrespect.'
'And wherefore should he?'
'O Adeline, the name of wife imposes restraint even on a libertine; but that of mistress--'
'Is Mr Maynard a libertine?' said Adeline gravely: and Glenmurray, afraid of wounding her feelings by entering into a further explanation, changed the subject, and again requested her consent to leave Lisbon.
'I have often told you,' said Adeline sighing, 'that my will is yours; and if you will give strict orders to have letters sent after us to the towns that we shall stop at, I am ready to set off immediately.'
Glenmurray then gave his orders; wrote a letter explaining his situation to Maynard, and in an hour they were on their journey to France.
CHAPTER XII
In the meanwhile Mr Maynard, Miss Maynard, and Mrs Wallington his widowed sister, were impatiently expecting Glenmurray's answer, and earnestly hoping to see him and his lovely companion,--but from different motives. Maynard was impatient to see Adeline because he really admired her; his sisters, because they hoped to find her unworthy of such violent admiration.
Their vanity had been piqued, and their envy excited, by the extravagant praises of their brother; and they had interrupted him by the first questions which all women ask on such occasions,--'Is she pretty?'
And he answered, 'Very pretty.'