She watch'd for him at dawn, and she watched for him at noon,
Tho' well she knew she could not hope to see him come so soon;
She could not rest, but peeping thro' her casement's leafy screen,
She watched the spot where she was told his form would first be seen.
HAYNES BAYLEY.
Mrs. de Burgh looked with some anxiety, and Mrs. Trevyllian, who was
also present, with some curiosity, into the face of Mary as she entered
the apartment; but whatever signs of recent excitement or agitation
might be discerned thereupon, there was a happy smile trembling on her
lips, which told that all was peace and contentment now, and when Mrs.
de Burgh, on contriving to draw her apart, eagerly enquired as to the
issue of her interview, Mary answered:
"Oh, all is right! Louis is very kind, and he has given me leave to
write immediately to Eugene, and bid him come here." She was
sufficiently satisfied to ask no more questions for the present, and
Mary went upstairs to write her letter.
When she returned to the drawing-room, Mr. de Burgh had joined the
party, and was standing with his back to the fire, looking rather cross,
while Mrs. de Burgh was smiling with some evidently suppressed triumph.
"I suppose," she said, with careless ease, "that we may send a servant
on horseback with Mary's letter."
"Oh, certainly! if Mary wishes it; but I think there is no such
particular hurry, and that it might very well wait till to-morrow. The
horses and servants have had, and are likely to have, plenty to do, with
all this scampering to and fro, between this and Montrevor."
Mrs. de Burgh remarked that she never knew anything so ill-natured as he
was. Mrs. Trevyllian even looked astonished at such a show of
ungraciousness on the part of the handsome Mr. de Burgh; but Mary said
good humouredly that the post would do quite as well for her letter, and
dropped it quietly into the letter-box on her way to luncheon.
It was--as it turned out--"quite as well," for Trevor was engaged at
some county meeting that evening--and had been from home, which
prevented his going to Silverton the following day till a short time
before dinner.
* * * * *
It was no use now for Mary to take her summer place by the window, and
watch for her lover's arrival, for the shades of the October evening had
almost closed over the scene before the happy time arrived; but the
noise of wheels, along with the quick, sharp sound of the horse's hoofs
gladly saluted her ears, and she was down stairs to meet him ere he had
many minutes reached the drawing-room.
They were standing together on the hearth-rug when Mr. de Burgh made his
appearance.
He shook hands with Eugene Trevor with the most perfect cordiality, and
having first rang the bell for dinner, stood beside him conversing in
his usual manner on indifferent subjects, Mary, on his entrance, having
retreated a little into the back-ground, to talk to the children; and
they were thus all spirits and good humour, when Mrs. de Burgh joined
them, accompanied by Mrs. Trevyllian, who had been induced to make one
of the dinner-party, in order that she might be introduced to, and have
an opportunity of beholding Mr. Trevor; she having been--of course in
the strictest confidence--enlightened by Mrs. de Burgh as to the
position of affairs between that gentleman and Miss Seaham.
At dinner everything went on _à merveille_, sociably and agreeably in
the extreme, and as the two gentlemen left the dining-room, the cheerful
laugh which was heard proceeding from Eugene Trevor's lips told that if
the _great_ subject had been discussed during the _tête-à-tête_ to which
he and Mr. de Burgh had been subjected, nothing but good humour and
friendliness, had been the issue.
Before their arrival, Mrs. de Burgh and Mrs. Trevyllian had been in deep
admiration of a very beautiful ring, of which the quick eyes of the
former had caught sight during dinner, glittering on Mary's finger,
where it had been placed by her lover on their private meeting that
evening. How Mary prized this first love-gift we may well imagine!
The rest of the evening proved one of undisturbed serenity and
enjoyment. Mrs. de Burgh seated herself at the piano, and sang over her
most beautiful and touching songs, whilst her husband made himself very
agreeable to Mrs. Trevyllian.
How Eugene and Mary occupied themselves it is not very difficult to
explain. Mary at least could have entered into the fancy of Madame de
Staël, who depicts her idea of one of the highest felicities that could
be imagined as belonging to that seventh heaven of which an angel was
sent to explore the delights--to be the listening to sweet music by the
side of one's beloved.
How, too, this evening must have brought to her remembrance that first
night of her arrival at Silverton, when she had listened to those sweet
strains with so much more unmingled, unassociated delight; though even
then, could she have remembered right, something beyond the mere spirit
of the music had faintly stirred her heart in that same hour.
"That hour when first this glance met thine,
Yet trembled lest it told too much,
The hour when first thy hand pressed mine,
Yet pressed as though it feared to touch,
When some strange voice appeared to say,
That each must rule the other's lot--
Forget it not!--forget it not!"
* * * * *
And so, from this day forward everything with reference to that
engagement, seemed to run on as smoothly towards its projected end as
ever did the course of such "true love." Mr. de Burgh, however he might
continue inwardly to disapprove, appeared to think he had done all that
duty and conscience entitled him to attempt; and that he had no chance
against love and trust, such as had been exhibited by the object on whom
he had made his attack. Even with his wife, he forebore any direct
discussion on the subject after this period, with the exception perhaps
of the following short and pithy colloquy, which some time or other had
occurred.
"My dear Louis, I really hope you are beginning to think a little better
of this affair."
"Indeed! you are quite mistaken on that point."
"At any rate, you have come to the determination that it is a most
foolish, if not most dangerous and presumptuous act, ever to attempt to
mar a match."
"I have come to the determination that there is _one_ thing more
foolish, dangerous, and presumptuous, namely, to _make_ one."
"Oh, if you mean to apply that to me, you are quite at fault. You seem
to give me all the credit of this business; I assure you it is more than
I can lay claim to. I never saw a match which seemed more truly one of
those said to be made in heaven. Why, years ago, at that fête at Morland
before we married, I now perfectly remember Eugene telling me after it
was over, that he had never met with a sweeter little girl than that
Miss Seaham, whom he had good-naturedly taken under his charge, and the
first night he met her here, after Mary's arrival, he hardly took his
eyes off her all the evening; whilst Mary tells me she had never
forgotten him since he was so kind to her at that _fête_. But even if it
were not so, I cannot imagine why you should set your face so much
against the marriage."
"Really!" responded the husband, shrugging his shoulders.
"No; any one else would think it a splendid match for Mary."
"I have no doubt of that."
"And, under her circumstances, so peculiarly desirable."
"Oh! certainly--peculiarly so."
"I really think (petulantly) you must be in love with Mary yourself." (A
look of ineffable scorn was the sole response.) "That is to say, if you
_could_ be in love with any one but yourself."