Mrs. Crayton glanced her eye
carelessly over the contents.
"What stuff is this;" cried she
haughtily; "have not I told you a thousand
times that I will not be
plagued with beggars, and
petitions from people
one knows nothing about? Go tell the woman I can't do any thing in it.
I'm sorry, but one can't
relieve every body."
The servant bowed, and heavily returned with this chilling
message to Charlotte.
"Surely," said she, "Mrs. Crayton has not read my letter.
Go, my good friend, pray go back to her; tell her it is Charlotte
Temple who requests beneath her
hospitable roof to find shelter
from the inclemency of the season."
"Prithee, don't
plague me, man," cried Mrs. Crayton impatiently,
as the servant
advanced something in
behalf of the
unhappy girl.
"I tell you I don't know her."
"Not know me," cried Charlotte, rushing into the room,
(for she had followed the man up stairs) "not know me, not remember
the ruined Charlotte Temple, who, but for you, perhaps might
still have been
innocent, still have been happy. Oh! La Rue,
this is beyond every thing I could have believed possible."
"Upon my honour, Miss," replied the unfeeling woman with
the
utmost effrontery, "this is a most unaccountable address:
it is beyond my
comprehension. John," continued she, turning to
the servant, "the young woman is certainly out of her senses:
do pray take her away, she terrifies me to death. "
"Oh God," cried Charlotte, clasping her hands in an agony,
"this is too much; what will become of me? but I will not leave you;
they shall not tear me from you; here on my knees I conjure
you to save me from perishing in the streets; if you really
have forgot me, oh for charity's sweet sake this night let me be
sheltered from the winter's
piercing cold." The kneeling figure
of Charlotte in her affecting situation might have moved the heart
of a stoic to
compassion; but Mrs. Crayton remained inflexible.
In vain did Charlotte
recount the time they had known each other
at Chichester, in vain mention their being in the same ship,
in vain were the names of Montraville and Belcour mentioned.
Mrs. Crayton could only say she was sorry for her imprudence,
but could not think of having her own
reputation endangered by
encouraging a woman of that kind in her own house, besides she did
not know what trouble and expense she might bring upon her husband
by giving shelter to a woman in her situation.
"I can at least die here," said Charlotte, "I feel I cannot long
survive this
dreadfulconflict. Father of mercy, here let me
finish my existence." Her agonizing sensations overpowered her,
and she fell
senseless on the floor.
"Take her away," said Mrs. Crayton, "she will really
frighten me
into hysterics; take her away I say this instant."
"And where must I take the poor creature?" said the servant with a
voice and look of
compassion.
"Any where," cried she
hastily, "only don't let me ever see her again.
I declare she has flurried me so I shan't be myself again this fortnight."
John, assisted by his fellow-servant, raised and carried her down stairs.
"Poor soul," said he, "you shall not lay in the street this night.
I have a bed and a poor little hovel, where my wife and her
little ones rest them, but they shall watch to night, and you
shall be sheltered from danger." They placed her in a chair;
and the
benevolent man, assisted by one of his comrades,
carried her to the place where his wife and children lived.
A
surgeon was sent for: he bled her, she gave signs of
returning life, and before the dawn gave birth to a
female infant.
After this event she lay for some hours in a kind of stupor;
and if at any time she spoke, it was with a quickness and incoherence
that
plainly evinced the total deprivation of her reason.
CHAPTER XXXII.
REASONS WHY AND WHEREFORE.
THE reader of sensibility may perhaps be astonished to find Mrs. Crayton
could so
positively deny any knowledge of Charlotte; it is
thereforebut just that her conduct should in some
measure be accounted for.