ndition on
which this is to be obtained, the condition on which his recollection
of you is to be, as it were, a precious antidote to the evils of his
heart, is, that you now act towards him with firmness and with
dignity."
"But suppose, dear lady," said the other, "that he were to ask me to
remain with him, still concealing our marriage. Nay, look not
terrified--I am not going to do it. I have told you how I am going to
act, and, on my honour, I will keep to my determination. I only ask
you what you think would then be the consequences?"
"Destruction both to you and to him," replied the Lady Helen: "he
would never look upon you entirely as his wife, he would never treat
you entirely as such. You would dwell with him almost as a
concubine.--Forgive me, but it must be spoken.--He would grow tired
of your beauty, weary of your society; your virtues would be lost
upon him, because he would see that firmness was not amongst them,
and he would not respect you because you had not respected yourself.
There is something, Caroline, in the state and dignity, if I may so
call it, which surrounds a virtuous married woman, that has a great
effect upon her husband, ay, and a great effect upon herself. There
is not one man, Caroline, out of a million, who has genuine nobility
of heart enough to stand the test of a long concealed private
marriage. I never saw but one, Caroline, and I have mingled with
almost every scene of human life, and seen the world with almost all
its faces. However, here, there can be no cause which should justly
induce you to consent to live with him under such circumstances, and
there are a thousand causes to prevent you from so doing. If you were
to do it, you would lose your respect for yourself, and how then
could you expect that he would retain any for you?"
The conversation was some time protracted in the same tone, and
nearly a whole hour was thus passed ere the younger lady was dressed
and ready to accompany her friend to breakfast.
Monsieur Plessis was there to do the honours of his table, treating
his fair guests not exactly as his equals, but yet behaving not at
all as an Englishman, under such circumstances, could have demeaned
himself He was polite, attentive, deferential; but he was still
Monsieur Plessis in his own house. There can be no doubt that all he
furnished them with was amply paid for; but yet he had an air of
conferring a favour, and indeed felt that he did so when he received
them into his dwelling at all. There was