please!'
'Nay, Mary,' with redoubled gentleness, 'there is one who cannot let you go without seeing him. Mary, you will not disappoint my poor boy again. You will let him be an amendment in my scheme.'
'You have been always most kind to me, but you cannot really like this.'
'You forget that it has been my most ardent wish from the moment I saw you what only your mother's child could be.'
'That was before— No, I ought not! Yours is not a family to bring disgrace into.'
'I cannot allow you to speak thus. I knew your trials at home when first I wished you to be my son's wife, and my opinion is unchanged, except by my increased wish to have the first claim to you.'
'Lord Ormersfield,' said Mary, collecting herself 'only one thing. Tell me, as if we were indifferent persons, is this a connexion such as would do Louis any harm? I trust you to answer.'
He paced along the room, and she tried to control her trembling. He came back and spoke: No, Mary. If he were a stranger, I should give the same advice. Your father's own family is unexceptionable; and those kind of things, so far off—few will ever hear of them, and no one will attach consequence to them. If that be your only scruple, it does you infinite credit; but I can entirely remove it. What might be an injury to you, single, would be of comparatively little importance to him.'
'Miss Conway,' faltered Mary, who could never remember her, when in Louis's presence.
'A mere delusion, of our own. There was nothing in it. He calls you the only woman who can make him happy, as I always knew you were. He must explain all. You will come to him, my dear child.'
Mary resisted no more; he led her down stairs, and left her within the dining-room door.
'Mary, you will now—' was all Louis said; but she let him draw her into his arms, and she rested against his breast, as when he had come to comfort her in the great thunderstorm in auld lang-syne. She felt herself come at length to the shelter and repose for which her heart had so long yearned, in spite of her efforts, and as if the world had nothing more to offer of peace or joy.
'Oh, Mary, how I have wanted you! You believe in me now!'
'I am sure mamma would!' murmured Mary.
He could have poured forth a torrent of affection, but the suspicion of a footstep made her start from him; and the next moment she was herself, glowing, indeed, and half crying with happiness, but alarmed at her own agitation, and struggling to resume her common-place manner.
'There's your father not had a morsel of breakfast!' she exclaimed, hurrying back to her teacups, whose ringing betrayed her trembling hand. 'Call him, Louis.'
'Must I go?' said Louis, coming to assist in a manner that threatened deluge and destruction.
'Oh yes, go! I shall be able to speak to you when you come back.'
He had only to go into the verandah. His father was watching at the library window, and they wrung each other's hand in gladness beyond utterance.
Mary had seated herself in the solid stately chair, with the whole entrenchment of tea equipage before her. They knew it signified that she was to be unmolested; they took their places, and the Earl carved ham, and Louis cut bread, and Mary poured out tea in the most matter-of-fact manner, hazarding nothing beyond such questions as, 'May I give you an egg?'
Then curiosity began to revive: Louis ventured, 'Where did you land?' and his father made answer, 'At Liverpool, yesterday,' and how the Custom-house had detained them, and he had, therefore, brought Mary straight home, instead of stopping with her at Northwold, at eleven o'clock, to disturb Mrs. Frost.
'You would have found us up,' said Louis.
'You were sleeping at the Terrace?'
'Yes, I walked here this morning.'
'Then your ankle must be pretty well,' was Mary's first contribution to the conversation.
'Quite well for all useful purposes,' said Louis, availing himself of the implied permission to turn towards her.
'But, Louis,' suddenly exclaimed the Earl, 'did you not tell me something extraordinary about James Frost? Whom did you say he was going to marry?'
'Isabel Conway.'
Never was his love of electrifying more fully gratified! Lord Ormersfield was surprised into an emphatic interjection, and inquiry whether they were all gone mad.
'Not that I am aware of,' said Louis. 'Perhaps you have not heard that Mr. Lester is going to retire, and Jem has the school?'
'Then, it must be Calcott and the trustees who are out of their senses.'
'Do you not consider it an excellent appointment?'
'It might be so some years hence,' said the Earl. 'I am afraid it will tie him down to a second-rate affair, when he might be doing better; and the choice is the last thing I should have expected from Calcott.'
'He opposed it. He wanted to bring in a very ordinary style of person, from – School, but Jem's superiority and the general esteem for my aunt carried the day.'
'What did Ramsbotham and his set do?'
'They were better than could have been hoped; they gave us their votes when they found their man could not get in.'
'Ha? As long as that fellow is against Calcott, he cares little whom he supports. I am sorry that Calcott should be defeated, even for James's sake. How did Richardson vote?'
'He was doubtful at first, but I brought him over.'
Lord Ormersfield gave a quick, searching glance as he said,' James Frost did not make use of our interest in this matter.'
'Jem never did. He and my aunt held back, and were unwilling to oppose the Squire. They would have given it up, but for me. Father, I never supposed you could be averse to my doing my utmost for Jem, when all his prospects were at stake.'
'I should have imagined that James was too well aware of my sentiments to allow it.'
What a cloud on the happy morning!
Louis eagerly exclaimed: 'James is the last person to be blamed! He and my aunt were always trying to stop me, but I would not listen to their scruples. I knew his happiness depended on his success, and I worked for him, in spite of himself. If I did wrong, I can only be very sorry; but I cannot readily believe that I transgressed by setting the question before people in a right light. Only, whose fault soever it was, it was not Jem's.'
Lord Ormersfield had not the heart to see one error in his son on such a day as this, more especially as Mary peeped out behind the urn to judge of his countenance, and he met her pleading eyes, swimming in tears.
'No, I find no fault,' he kindly said. 'Young, ardent spirits may be excused for outrunning the bounds that their elders might impose. But you have not removed my amazement. James intending to marry on the grammar-school!—it cannot be worth 300 pounds a year.'
'Isabel is satisfied. She never desired anything but a quiet, simple, useful life.'
'Your Aunt Catharine delighted, of course? No doubt of that; but what has come to Lady Conway?'
'She
