Mystery & Confidence. Elizabeth Sibthorpe Pinchard

      CHAP. VIII.

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      "Are then the sons of interest only wise?

       Can pomp alone essential good impart?

       Mistaken world; ah! why thus vainly prize

       Those gifts which but contract the human heart?

      "Why only folly that fond passion call, Which Heaven itself implanted in the mind; Links each to each, and, harmonizing all, Swells the rapt heart with sympathy refin'd."

      The reflections of a long and sleepless night determined Mordaunt on the line of conduct he ought to pursue; and as soon as he thought the early breakfast at the Parsonage would be ended, he walked thither, and asking for Mr. Ross, was shewn into the little study, which that good man called exclusively his own. Yet here, in the very last place where he would have expected to find her, to his utter astonishment he saw Ellen. Ellen alone—seated at a table covered with books, from one of which she appeared learning something, or rather to have been so employed, for at the moment he entered her thoughts had wandered; and she was sitting, one fair hand holding the open book, the other covering her eyes. Supposing the person who entered to be Mr. Ross, who had that day commenced the office of her tutor, she looked up; but seeing Mordaunt, the book fell from her hand, and she vainly endeavoured to rise from her seat—a ceremony not yet exploded by the unfashionable inhabitants of Llanwyllan. Mordaunt sprang eagerly forward, exclaiming, "Here Ellen! Good Heavens! could I have hoped to see you here! At last then we meet again, without the irksome restraint of surrounding witnesses, of almost hostile eyes! Fear not, dearest, for ever dearest Ellen." Seeing she looked half alarmed at his unusual warmth, for in general his manner towards her was, though tender, composed—"fear not: never may word nor look of mine give you reasonable cause of alarm or vexation. Worlds would I give for one hour's uninterrupted conversation with you—but now another moment may prevent my saying more. Tell me then, sweetest girl, may I, will you permit me to apply to Mr. Ross for his interest with you, and with your father, till I can hope that my assiduities, if not my merit, may have excited in you a tenderer sentiment than mere esteem?"

      Bewildered—perplexed—hardly knowing or understanding what she heard, or believing that Mordaunt could be in earnest in what she could not but suppose a declaration of his love, Ellen gasped, trembled, and half fainted in his supporting arms.

      At this moment Ross entered, and seeing this extraordinary scene, gazed with surprize, almost with dismay, upon them. "I was told," said he, gravely advancing, "that Mr. Mordaunt wished to speak to me. What is the matter Ellen? are you ill?" "Forgive my vehemence, dear Ellen," said Mordaunt. "I have startled your tender spirits by my impatience: permit me to conduct you to your friends; or shall Mr. Ross and I retire together?"

      The particular tenderness of this address, and this almost open avowal of the interest he took in her, still more and more surprized Ross. Ellen rose, and with difficulty supporting herself, murmured she would go to Mrs. Ross—"Do so," said Ross; "but let me assist you.—Mr. Mordaunt, be seated; I will return to you immediately."—Without speaking more to her, he took her arm in his, and having seated her in the parlour, (where fortunately Joanna was alone), he told her to compose herself, and returned to a visitor whom every hour made him think more perplexing and extraordinary. Mordaunt extended his hand, and grasping Ross's within it, said, with noble frankness, "You have been, my dear Sir—perhaps still are displeased with me: but the time is come when the mysteries which surround me shall be cleared away. If you will grant me your attention for an hour I will relate to you some circumstances upon which I must at present beg you to be silent; but to the truth of all which I pledge myself by every asseveration which can bind the man of principle and honour."

      They were seated, and Mordaunt related to Ross many events, and disclosed many secrets, which we shall for the present take leave to pass over. Having finished the astonishing recital, he said, "And now, my dear Sir, having heard all I know of myself, and all I may hereafter fear, will you candidly tell me whether I may hope not only for your consent, but for your good wishes that I may marry Ellen Powis? May I, do you think, venture to make her mine, when perhaps a few months may involve me in so much vexation if not disgrace? And do you think I may hope such a share of affection from her as will reconcile her to future events, of whatever nature they may be?"—"I see," said Ross, "that my cautious fears for her peace have a little precipitated your measures. It might have been better, perhaps, to let things go on quietly till the return of that young man you have mentioned to me from abroad might have explained his future intentions: perhaps his opinions may have altered during his absence: be that as it may, if you were now to leave Llanwyllan without coming to a farther explanation with Ellen, I fear her peace would be too deeply endangered; for though I would scrupulously guard her delicacy, and leave the declaration of her sentiments to her own lips, yet it would be idle to deny my conviction that she has seen her friend Mordaunt with what I believe I must call preference. Is not that the proper word, think you, Sir?" He smiled, and added such kind professions of regard for Mordaunt, and expressed so much delight at his truly disinterested love for Ellen, as left our traveller nothing to wish from him.

      It was determined that not even Ellen should know at present the circumstances Mordaunt had revealed to Ross. "If she knows them," said Mordaunt, "she will think duty calls upon her to impart at least some of them to her father, and we are sure our worthy friend Powis will make no secret of them; you cannot doubt, Mr. Ross, how greatly it would annoy me to have them known while we remain at Llanwyllan; when we are gone, the leading circumstances will not remain a secret long, for I hope for your kind interest with Ellen and her father, that I may take her with me ere long, before winter has rendered travelling over your 'staircase roads,' as some one expresses it, unpleasant, if not unsafe. I am perhaps presuming too far, but I think, I hope, from Ellen's gentle tremor and not repugnant looks, when just now I was hurried into something very like a declaration of my love, though I came purposely to consult you before I made it, that she will not be inexorable." "I think," replied Ross, "I may venture to assure you she will not even affect a hesitation which her heart disclaims. Ellen has been brought up in the most perfect modesty, but at the same time in the most perfect sincerity, and it is really out of her power to conceal her sentiments; and to me, who have known her from her infancy, they are as obvious as if her heart was open to my view; but I will not say more," said he, with a benevolent smile.—"I ought not to betray my darling little pupil: by the bye," added he, turning to the books, &c. "my office of schoolmaster will, I suppose, soon be taken from me; I might as well not have attempted to take it out of your hands." Mordaunt laughed, and asked Ross if he might not request to see Ellen then. "You may easily imagine my anxiety," added he. "Why," said Ross, "there is something so formidable in sending for the poor little girl, and seating her formally to hear what you undoubtedly are impatient to say, that if you can allow her a little time to compose herself, after the flurry she has had this morning already, I really think it will be better. Will you partake of our humble dinner to-day—can you eat at our unfashionable early hour? for the good people here, amongst other things, are amazed at your usual hours; if you can, pray favour me; and after dinner I will so far relax my late vigilance, as to permit you to speak to Ellen apart for ten minutes: will that be long enough?" "Not quite," said Mordaunt, half laughing; "but how shall we manage with Mrs. Ross, who, I believe, holds me in very serious aversion, and with Joanna, who will, I know, have her mother's commands not to stir from Ellen?" "How well you have read us all," said Ross, laughing in his turn: "but trust to me: I will remove all these formidable obstacles—yet do not fancy my good woman has any dislike to you; whatever displeasure she has shewn originated in her vexation at seeing your influence had deranged the plans she thought best for Ellen to pursue, and endangered, as we feared, her happiness; for though she may not shew it exactly according to the manner a more enlightened mind might chuse, assure yourself Mrs. Ross loves Ellen with the affection of a mother." "I doubt it not," replied Mordaunt with vivacity: "who can see and not love that exquisite creature?—what a person—what a mind she has! You may believe, after all I have told