which had urged Belcour to plant
dissension between her and Montraville,
still raged in his bosom: he was determined, if possible,
to make her his
mistress; nay, he had even conceived the diabolical
scheme of
taking her to New-York, and making her appear in every
public place where it was likely she should meet Montraville,
that he might be a
witness to his unmanly triumph.
When he entered the room where Charlotte was sitting,
he assumed the look of tender, consolatory friendship.
"And how does my lovely Charlotte?" said he,
taking her hand:
"I fear you are not so well as I could wish."
"I am not well, Mr. Belcour," said she, "very far from it;
but the pains and infirmities of the body I could easily bear, nay,
submit to them with
patience, were they not aggravated by the most
insupportable
anguish of my mind."
"You are not happy, Charlotte," said he, with a look
of well-dissembled sorrow.
"Alas!" replied she mournfully, shaking her head, "how can I be happy,
deserted and
forsaken" target="_blank" title="
forsake的过去分词">
forsaken as I am, without a friend of my own sex
to whom I can unburthen my full heart, nay, my
fidelity suspected
by the very man for whom I have sacrificed every thing valuable
in life, for whom I have made myself a poor despised creature,
an outcast from society, an object only of
contempt and pity."
"You think too meanly of yourself, Miss Temple:
there is no one who would dare to treat you with
contempt:
au who have the pleasure of
knowing you must admire and esteem.
You are
lonely here, my dear girl; give me leave to conduct you
to New-York, where the
agreeable society of some ladies, to whom
I will introduce you, will
dispel these sad thoughts, and I shall
again see returning chearfulness
animate those lovely features."
"Oh never! never!" cried Charlotte,
emphatically: "the
virtuous part
of my sex will scorn me, and I will never
associate with infamy.
No, Belcour, here let me hide my shame and sorrow, here let me
spend my few remaining days in
obscurity, unknown and unpitied,
here let me die unlamented, and my name sink to oblivion."
Here her tears stopped her
utterance. Belcour was awed to silence:
he dared not
interrupt her; and after a moment's pause she
proceeded--"I once had conceived the thought of going to New-York
to seek out the still dear, though cruel, ungenerous Montraville,
to throw myself at his feet, and
entreat his com
passion;
heaven knows, not for myself; if I am no longer
beloved, I will
not be
indebted to his pity to
redress my injuries, but I would
have knelt and
entreated him not to
forsake my poor unborn--"
She could say no more; a
crimson glow rushed over her cheeks,
and covering her face with her hands, she sobbed aloud.
Something like
humanity was
awakened in Belcour's breast by this
pathetic speech: he arose and walked towards the window;
but the
selfishpassion which had taken possession of his heart,
soon stifled these finer emotions; and he thought if Charlotte
was once
convinced she had no longer any dependance on Montraville,
she would more
readily throw herself on his
protection.
Determined,
therefore, to inform her of all that had happened,
he again resumed his seat; and
finding she began to be more composed,
enquired if she had ever heard from Montraville since the
unfortunaterecontre in her bed chamber.
"Ah no," said she. "I fear I shall never hear from him again."
"I am greatly of your opinion," said Belcour, "for he has been
for some time past greatly attached--"
At the word "attached" a death-like paleness overspread the countenance
of Charlotte, but she
applied to some hartshorn which stood beside her,
and Belcour proceeded.
"He has been for some time past greatly attached to one Miss Franklin,