Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (295 page)

 
shutters of the windows are well
secured; and bring me your master's pistols."
    "Mr. Chichester came this morning early, ma'am,"
returned the servant, "and took away every thing belonging to him."
    "Heaven be thanked!" cried Viola. "Perhaps he
will molest me no more? God grant that the separation may be eternal!
Nevertheless, secure the door and the windows: this house is not safe! Tomorrow
I shall leave it, and hire lodgings in the very heart of London. There,
perhaps," she murmured to herself, "no violence can be offered to me
!"

CHAPTER CXVIII.

THE TWO MAIDENS.

ON a fine frosty morning - about ten days after the incidents just
related,  -two young ladies were walking together along the road in the
immediate vicinity of the dwelling of Count Alteroni (for so we had better
continue to call him, until he himself shall choose to throw aside his
incognito).
    Did an artist wish to personify the antipodes, - as the
ancients did their rivers, mounts, and groves,  - upon his canvass, he
could not possibly have selected for his models two maidens between whom there
existed so great a physical contrast as that which was afforded to the eye by
the young ladies above noticed.
    The one was a brunette, and seemed a child of the sunny
south ; the other was as fair as ever daughter of our cold northern clime could
be :- the one had the rich red blood mantling beneath a delicate tinge of the
purest and most transparent
bistre
; the other was pale and colourless as
the whitest marble:- the generous mind and elevated intellect of the one shone
through eyes large, black, and impassioned; the almost infantine candour and
artlessness of the other were expressed by means of orbs of azure blue - the
glossy raven hair of the one was parted in two rich bands over the high and
noble forehead; the flaxen tresses of the other fell in varied waves of pale
auburn and gold, beneath the bonnet, over the shoulders:- the form of the one
was well-rounded but sylph-like; the symmetry of the other was delicate and
slight:- the appearance of the one excited the most ardent admiration tempered
with respect; that of the other inspired the most lively interest - the beauty
of the one was faultless, brilliant, and dazzling; that of the other, ideal,
fascinating, and bewitching:- the one, in fine, was a native of the warm Italian
clime ; the other, a daughter of Britain a sea-girt isle.
    A shade of profound melancholy hung upon the countenance of
Mary-Anne Gregory. The sprightly - gay - joyous - innocently volatile
disposition had changed to sadness and gloom. Those vermilion lips, which until
so lately were ever wreathed in smiles, now expressed care and sorrow. The
step, though light, was no longer playfully elastic. Time had added but a few
months to the sixteen years which marked the age of Mary-Anne when we first
introduced her to our readers; but thought, and meditation, and grief had given
to the mind the experience of maturity. She was no longer the gay, lively,
flitting, bee-like being that she was when Richard Markham became her brothers'
tutor: her manner was now painfully tranquil, her air profoundly pensive, her
demeanour inconsistently grave when considered in relation to her years.
  
 
It seemed as if there were a canker at the heart of that fair
creature; as if the hidden worm were prey log upon the delicate rose-bud ere it
expanded into the bloom of maturity!
    And these traits and symptoms were rendered the more
apparent by the contrast afforded by the rich health and youthful vigour which
characterised the Signora Isabella. The hues of the rose were seen beneath the
soft brunette tint of her complexion - for that complexion was clear and
transparent as the stream over which the trees throw a shade beneath a summer
sun.
    And both those maidens loved: but the passion of the English
girl was without hope; while that of the noble Italian lady was nurtured by the
fondest aspirations.
    But how came those charming creatures thus acquainted with
each other?
    Perhaps their conversation may elucidate this mystery.
    "We have only known each other one short week," said
Mary-Anne; "and yet I feel as if you were sent to me by heaven to become
my friend and confidant - for, oh! it seems to me as if my soul nourished a
secret which consumes it."
    "An accident made us acquainted; and that very
circumstance immediately inspired me with a deep interest in your behalf,"
returned the signora. "There are occasions when two persons become more
intimate in a few short days, than they otherwise would in as many years."
    "You echo my own feelings, Signora," said Mary-
Anne; "and your goodness makes me desire to deserve and gain your
friendship."
    "Your wish is already accomplished, my dear Miss
Gregory," observed Isabella. " You have my friendship; and if you
think me worthy of your confidence, I can sympathise with your sorrows, even if
I cannot remove them."
    "How have you divined that the confidence I would
impart is associated with grief?" asked Mary-Anne, hastily.
    "I will tell you, replied the beautiful Italian.
"When you were riding on      horseback,
accompanied by your father, along this road a week ago, I observed you from my
own chamber. Even at that distance, I perceived something about you that
immediately inspired me with interest. I followed you with my eyes until you
were out of sight: and then I still continued to think of you - wondering, with
that idiosyncrasy of thought which often occurs during a leisure half-hour, who
you were. At length you returned. You were a few paces in front of your father;
and I observed that the horse you rode was a spirited one. Then occurred the
accident: the moment you were thrown so rudely off against the very gate of our
shrubbery, I precipitated myself down the stairs, and, calling for the servants
as I descended, hurried to your assistance. You cannot remember - because you
were insensible - that I was the first to reach the spot, where your father had
already raised you from the ground. Mr. Gregory was distracted: he thought that
you were lost to him for ever. I, however, ascertained in a moment that you
still breathed; and I directed the servants to convey you to the house. While
you were still stretched in a state of insensibility upon my own bed, I
contemplated you with increasing interest. Then, when you awoke at length, and
spoke,- and when I conversed with you, - it seemed as if I were irresistibly
attracted towards you. I was, indeed, delighted when my father proposed to Mr.
Gregory to allow you to remain a few days with us until you
 
should be completely recovered
from the effects of your fall. Your father consented, and he left you with us.
It was not long before I perceived that you nourished a profound grief ;- I
observed the frequent abstraction of your manner - I noticed your pensive mood.
I thought within myself,
 
'Is it possible that one so young
and interesting should already be acquainted with sorrow?
' From that hour I have felt
deeply on your account - for, alas! I myself have known what are the effects of
grief!"
    "Signora," said Mary-Anne, with tears in her eyes,
"I can never repay you for this kind interest which you manifest towards
me. I feel that I should be happier were I to tell you all that grieves me; but
I tremble - lest you should think me very foolish, and very indiscreet!"
    "Foolish we may all be at times," said Isabella;
"but indiscreet I am convinced you never were."
    "Is it not indiscreet to nurse a sentiment whose hopes
can never be realised? Is it not indiscreet," added Mary-Anne, hanging
down her head, and speaking in a low tone, "to love one who loves
another?"
    "No - not indiscreet," answered Isabella, hastily:
"for what mortal has power over the heart?"
    "Signora, love is not then a stranger to your
breast!" exclaimed Mary-Anne, glancing with tearful eyes up to the
countenance of the Italian lady.
    " I should be unworthy of your confidence, were I to
withhold mine," said Isabella. "Yes-  my troth is plighted to
one than whom no living soul possesses more generous, more noble feelings: and
yet," she added, with a sigh, "there are obstacles in the way of our
union - obstacles which, alas! I sometimes think, can never be overcome!"
    "Ah! lady, while I can now feel for you - feel most
deeply," said Mary-Anne, " I am, nevertheless, rejoiced that. you
have thus honoured me with your confidence. It removes any hesitation - any
alarm, on my part, to unburden my soul to you!"
    "Speak, my dear Mary-Anne," returned Isabella:
"you will at least be certain to receive sympathy and consolation from
me."
    "I shall then reveal my sentiments unreservedly,"
continued Mary-Anne. "I have before mentioned to you that I have two
brothers, who are now at college. A few months ago, they were preparing for
their collegiate course of study, and were residing at home in Kentish Town. My
father obtained for them the assistance of a tutor-a young gentleman who had
once been wealthy, but who had been reduced to comparative poverty. Oh! it was
impossible to see that young man without feeling an interest in him. When I
first heard that a tutor was engaged for my brothers, I immediately pictured to
myself a confirmed pedagogue - shabby, dirty, dogmatic, and ugly. How greatly
then was I astonished, when I was introduced to an elegant and handsome young
man, of polished manners, agreeable conversation, entirely unassuming,
courteous, and affable? There was a partial air of melancholy about him ; but
his eyes were lighted with the fire of intellect, and his noble forehead seemed
to be adorned with that unartificial crown of aristocracy which nature, bestows
upon her elect. Alas! woe to me was the day when that young man first entered
my father's dwelling. The interest I felt for him soon augmented to a degree,
that I was miserable when he was away. But, when he was present, oh! then my
heart seemed to bound within me likes fawn upon the hills; and my happiness was
of the most ravishing description - I was gay, frolicksome, and playful: no
laugh of a child was so hearty, so sincere as mine! His voice was music to my
ears! He taught me drawing; but I was too happy to sit still for many minutes
together - too happy to sit next to him ! And yet I did not understand my own
feelings: in fact, I never stopped to analyse them. I was carried along by a
whirlwind that left me no leisure for self-examination. When he was absent, my
only thought was upon what he had said when present, and how happy I should be
when he came once more. I had no more idea of the true nature of the sentiment
that animated my soul, than I have at this instant of what constitutes the
happiness of heaven. I knew that I felt happy when he was there: I know that
those feel happy who dwell above ;- but I was as ignorant then of what formed
my felicity, as I now am of the bliss experienced by those who inhabit the
Almighty's kingdom. Thus a few weeks passed away; and then my father announced
his intention of allowing a holiday for a short period. I remember - as well as
if it were an event of yesterday - that this arrangement caused me serious
displeasure; because I understood that our tutor would cease to visit us during
the suspension of the studies. I expressed my annoyance in plain terms; but
this ebullition on my part was most probably considered a specimen of girlish
caprice, or the airs of a spoiled child. And now, signora - now—"
    "Call me Isabella," said the Italian lady,
affectionately.
    "Now, my dear Isabella," proceeded Mary-Anne,
"I come to that part of my narrative which involves an indiscretion that
may appear grave in your eyes - though, God knows, I was at the time entirely
ignorant of the imprudence of the step which I was taking."
    "I am prepared to allow every extenuation for one so
young, so artless, and so inexperienced as yourself," observed Isabella.
    "Ah! how kind you are," returned Mary-Anne,
pressing her companion's hand. "But let me not hesitate to reveal the indiscretion
into which I was hurried by feelings of a new and powerful nature. I called
upon the young tutor at his own residence! And then, how nobly did he behave!
how generously did he act! He explained to me - by degrees, and in the most
delicate manner possible - the impropriety of the step which I had taken: he
gave me an insight into those rules of feminine propriety, a breach of which
can scarcely be extenuated by the plea of guilelessness ;- in a word, he opened
my eyes to the position in which I had placed myself! But, alas! what did I
learn at the same time? He told me that he was attached to a young lady, who
was very beautiful. It then struck me, with lightning rapidity, that I had no
right to offer my friendship (for still I did not dream of love) to one on whom
another heart had claims; and I left him with a sincere apology for my
conduct."
    "I admit that your indiscretion was great," said
the pure-minded Isabella; "but no one possessing a generous heart could
hesitate to sympathise with you, rather than blame."
    "For days and days," continued Mary-Anne. I
struggled with my feelings. I still believed that all I experienced towards the
object of my interest was friendship. But when he resumed his attendance, I
found that it was impossible to conquer the sentiments which agitated my bosom.
God knows - God knows, Isabella, how I reasoned with myself upon the state of
mind in which I existed! I prayed to heaven to relieve me from the doubts, the
anxieties, the uneasiness, which constantly oppressed me, by restoring me to
that state of perfect happiness which was mine ere I knew that being who, in
spite of himself, exercised so powerful an influence over me. At length my
father sent me suddenly, and without a day's warning, to pass a week with some
particular friends at Twickenham. I was at first inclined to remonstrate with
him at this proceeding; and then it struck me that it would be well if I were
to cease to exist under the spell which the frequent presence of the tutor at
the house seemed to throw around me."
    "And all this time you were still unaware of the true
nature of the feelings which animated you?" inquired Isabella.
    "Oh! yes - I was indeed," answered Mary-Anne:
"but a fearful occurrence was speedily destined to open my eyes! I remained
a few days with my kind friends at Twickenham, and then returned home. I there
learnt that the tutor had ceased to attend at the house, as my brothers were to
proceed, at the commencement of January, to college. I know not whether my
father had some motive for the conduct which he thus pursued, in abruptly
dismissing the tutor and sending me away while he adopted that step; nor can I
say whether any particular reason prompted him to do all that he could to amuse
my mind on my return home. It is, nevertheless, certain that he exerted himself
to provide amusements for me : he purchased two horses, and accompanied me in
frequent equestrian exercises; he took me to concerts and the theatres; and
supplied me with entertaining books of travel and adventure, music, and
pictures. But my mind was intent only upon one absorbing idea; nor could it be
weaned from that feeling which it nursed in favour of the young tutor. I,
however, acceded to all my father's plans of diversion; and it was one evening
at the theatre that the veil fell from my eyes! I accompanied my father to
witness a new drama. The action of the piece was deeply interesting; the poetry
was of a nature to touch the inmost soul. There was a passage in which the
heroine described her hopeless love : I listened - I drank in every word - I
hung upon each syllable of that fine speech as if my own destiny were
intimately linked with the scene enacting before me. As she proceeded, I was
painfully surprised by the similitude existing between the feelings that