have a very lovely step-daughter. It is not necessary for me to launch into her praises; but I may say I have only seen one person in the course of my life who has charmed me so much. That person would have been my wife had she not jilted me and wedded another. Miss Calverley shall be Lady Charlton if she will accept me.
“You do us great honour, Sir Bridgnorth!” observed Mrs. Calverley.
“I don’t know whether I am right, ma’am,” he pursued; “but I prefer making this offer through you, instead of direct to the young lady, as you can put an end to the affair at once, if you think proper. I needn’t enter into any particulars. You know my position; you know what sort of place I have got you know I can make a good settlement on my wife, as well as give her a title. The main question is – will Miss Calverley have me? Is she wholly free? for I would not, for the world, interfere with any other engagement. I have suffered too much myself not to be careful. I am not foolish enough to persuade myself she can love me; but I believe I could make her a very good husband, and hope she would be happy. I am quite sure she would be indulged.”
He said this with an honest, manly sincerity, that produced a strong effect upon Mrs. Calverley.
In a voice of some emotion, she remarked, “My own husband, as I needn’t tell you, Sir Bridgnorth, was considerably older than myself, and no one could be happier than I was with him.”
“You encourage me to hope, madam, that the disparity of years may not prove an objection. Supposing the young lady to be entirely disengaged, may I be permitted to see her?”
“Most certainly, Sir Bridgnorth! I would much rather she answered for herself than I should answer for her. Ah! I see her in the garden! If you will step out with me to the lawn I will present you to her!”
Sir Bridgnorth willingly complied, though he felt some little internal trepidation. A variety of emotions agitated him.
Mildred was at the further end of the lawn, but she came to meet them, and he thought her even more charming in her simple morning costume than in evening dress.
“I had the pleasure of seeing you at the ball at Stafford the other night, Miss Calverley,” he said, after the presentation had taken place. “You interested me exceedingly from the striking resemblance you bear to a young lady to whom I was tenderly attached in former days. I will tell you that little story some time or other should you desire to hear it. Meantime, it may suffice to say that I was actually engaged to her, but she threw me over for a better-looking man, and married him. It was a severe blow, and I did not recover it for a long time. I made up my mind never to marry, and for five-and-twenty years adhered to my determination. But see what our resolutions are worth! The sight of you dispelled mine in a moment! As I gazed at you, my youth seemed to return. I felt as much enamoured as I had done before, and it was with difficulty I could prevent myself from going up to you and saying, ‘Behold your lover!’”
“I am very glad you didn’t, Sir Bridgnorth,” said Mildred.
“I knew you would think me a madman!” he continued; “and fearing I might be guilty of some indiscretion, I would not even be introduced to you. But I watched you throughout the evening, and your image has haunted me ever since. Feeling that my happiness is at stake, I have come here to plead my cause in person, and have just spoken to Mrs. Calverley. Now you know all.”
“Not quite all, my love,” said Mrs. Calverley. “I am bound to add, that, in making his proposal to you through me, Sir Bridgnorth has behaved in the handsomest manner.”
“I am convinced of it,” said Mildred; “but – ”
“Do not crush my hopes at once,” cried Sir Bridgnorth, in alarm. “Give me the chance of winning your affections. I don’t desire an immediate answer.”
“But I am very fickle myself, Sir Bridgnorth, and extremely liable to change my mind. You shall have no reason to complain of me as you do of your former love.”
“I don’t complain of her,” he said, in a quiet tone.
“Then you are extremely forgiving; for, in my opinion, she used you shamefully.”
“You must not say a word against her,” exclaimed Sir Bridgnorth.
“Why not?” inquired Mildred, in surprise.
“For an excellent reason,” he replied. “She was your own mother.”
Mildred could scarcely repress a cry.
“I thought as much,” said Mrs. Calverley. “Your fair inconstant was the beautiful Annabella Chetwynd, my husband’s first wife.”
“Exactly so,” said Sir Bridgnorth. “I never beheld her since her marriage,” he added, to Mildred. “No wonder, therefore, your appearance produced such an effect upon me. For a moment I thought she had come to life again. I shall always take an interest in you, and shall always be delighted to serve you. Since I cannot be your husband, you must allow me to be a friend.”
“That offer I gladly accept, Sir Bridgnorth,” she replied, extending her hand towards him.
He took it, and pressed it to his lips.
“You may rely upon me, as you could have done upon your own father,” he said, with an earnestness that bespoke his sincerity. “Call on me when you will, I will answer the appeal. And now farewell!”
“I hope you are not going, Sir Bridgnorth,” said Mrs. Calverley. “Pray stay and spend the remainder of the day with us! I am charmed to make your acquaintance.”
“I shall be quite grieved if you go, dear Sir Bridgnorth.” added Mildred.
“Since you ask me, I cannot refuse,” he replied. “But my carriage is waiting at the door.”
“I will give orders that it shall be put up immediately,” said Mrs. Calverley. “It is so kind of you to stay.”
And she went into the house to give the necessary directions.
III. INQUIRIES
Mildred now felt quite at ease with Sir Bridgnorth. His manner towards her was so kind, that she almost began to regard him in the light of a father.
“Excuse me if I ask you a few questions relative to your brother Chetwynd,” he said. “I am influenced by no impertinent curiosity, but simply by the desire to ascertain if I can be of any service to him. I am aware that a serious misunderstanding occurred between him and Mrs. Calverley at the time of your father’s death; and I have also heard that he absolutely refuses to accept any allowance from her.”
“What you have heard is quite correct, Sir Bridgnorth,” replied Mildred. “Mrs. Calverley desires to allow my brother six hundred a year, and has instructed Mr. Carteret, her solicitor, to pay him the amount quarterly; but he declines to receive the money, being excessively indignant that my father should have left her the entire control of his property.”
“But what has become of your brother? What is he doing?”
“I really cannot tell you, Sir Bridgnorth,” she replied. “He came here just before poor papa’s death, and remained till after the funeral; but he shut himself up in his own room, and saw no one except old Norris, the butler, who is still with us. I had no idea he was going away so suddenly, for he did not acquaint me with his intention, or even take leave of me, or I would have tried to dissuade him from the
