of your lost CHARLOTTE.
CHAPTER XXIII.
A MAN MAY SMILE, AND SMILE,
AND BE A VILLAIN.
WHILE Charlotte was enjoying some small degree of comfort
in the consoling friendship of Mrs. Beauchamp, Montraville was
advancing rapidly in his
affection towards Miss Franklin.
Julia was an
amiable girl; she saw only the fair side of his character;
she possessed an independent fortune, and
resolved to be happy
with the man of her heart, though his rank and fortune were by no
means so exalted as she had a right to expect; she saw the
passionwhich Montraville struggled to
conceal; she wondered at his timidity,
but imagined the distance fortune had placed between them occasioned
his backwardness, and made every advance which
strict prudence
and a becoming
modesty would permit. Montraville saw with pleasure
he was not
indifferent to her, but a spark of honour which animated
his bosom would not suffer him to take
advantage of her partiality.
He was well acquainted with Charlotte's situation, and he thought
there would be a double
cruelty in forsaking her at such a time;
and to marry Miss Franklin, while honour,
humanity, every
sacred law,
obliged him still to protect and support Charlotte, was a baseness
which his soul shuddered at.
He communicated his
uneasiness to Belcour: it was the very
thing this pretended friend had wished. "And do you really,"
said he, laughing, "
hesitate at marrying the lovely Julia,
and becoming master of her fortune, because a little foolish,
fond girl chose to leave her friends, and run away with you to America.
Dear Montraville, act more like a man of sense; this whining,
pining Charlotte, who occasions you so much
uneasiness, would have
eloped with somebody else if she had not with you."
"Would to heaven," said Montraville, "I had never seen her;
my regard for her was but the
momentarypassion of desire, but I
feel I shall love and
revere Julia Franklin as long as I live;
yet to leave poor Charlotte in her present situation would be
cruel beyond description."
"Oh my good
sentimental friend," said Belcour, "do you imagine
no body has a right to provide for the brat but yourself."
Montraville started. "Sure," said he, "you cannot mean to
insinuatethat Charlotte is false."
"I don't
insinuate it," said Belcour, "I know it."
Montraville turned pale as ashes. "Then there is no faith
in woman," said he.
"While I thought you attached to her," said Belcour with an air
of
indifference, "I never wished to make you
uneasy by mentioning
her perfidy, but as I know you love and are
beloved by Miss Franklin,
I was determined not to let these foolish scruples of honour step
between you and happiness, or your
tenderness for the peace of a
perfidious girl prevent your uniting yourself to a woman of honour."
"Good heavens!" said Montraville, "what poignant reflections
does a man
endure who sees a lovely woman plunged in infamy,
and is
conscious he was her first seducer; but are you certain
of what you say, Belcour?"
"So far," replied he, "that I myself have received advances from
her which I would not take
advantage of out of regard to you:
but hang it, think no more about her. I dined at Franklin's to-day,
and Julia bid me seek and bring you to tea: so come along, my lad,
make good use of opportunity, and seize the gifts of fortune while
they are within your reach." Montraville was too much agitated
to pass a happy evening even in the company of Julia Franklin:
he determined to visit Charlotte early the next morning,
tax her with her
falsehood, and take an
everlasting leave of her;
but when the morning came, he was commanded on duty, and for six
weeks was prevented from putting his design in
execution. At length
he found an hour to spare, and walked out to spend it with Charlotte:
it was near four o'clock in the afternoon when he arrived at her cottage;
she was not in the parlour, and without
calling the servant
he walked up stairs, thinking to find her in her bed room.
He opened the door, and the first object that met his eyes was
Charlotte asleep on the bed, and Belcour by her side.