|To many a courageous man a proposal is a formidable business, but Lord
Courland certainly did not appear to find it so; nor was it necessary
for the beautiful widow to give him any encouragement.
“Need I say I adore you?” he exclaimed. “You must be conscious that from
the first moment I beheld you I was fascinated by your charms.”
She smiled softly, but made no audible response.
He continued in the same passionate strain.
“Let me have a word to say I am not an object of indifference to
you--that you requite my love.”
She regarded him more tenderly than before, but spoke not.
He could not misunderstand the look.
“You love me!” he cried. “Your eyes confess more than your lips are
willing to avow! You force me to snatch an answer from them!” he added,
suiting the action to the word.
“Now you are mine, Teresa,” he continued, still holding her hand. “Soon
to be Viscountess Cour-land, hereafter Countess of Richborough. But you
are silent. Speak, I conjure you! Tell me you are content!”
“Can you doubt it?” she replied, with a look that seemed to penetrate
the inmost recesses of his breast.
“And you really, truly love me?”
“Really, truly!” she rejoined. “I never loved till now!”
“May I credit this?” he remarked, somewhat incredulously. “I am willing
to be deceived.”
“I repeat, you are the only person I have ever really loved.”
Another kiss followed the gratifying assurance, which might possibly
have been correct.
“Are you ambitious, Teresa?” asked the enamoured young nobleman.
“I do not think so,” she rejoined. “I am influenced by your agreeable
qualities, not by your rank. Though a recommendation, your title would
not have gained you my hand.”
“But I ought to tell you I am not very rich, and I shall not have much
during my father's lifetime.”
“It matters not,” she replied, with a smile. “I have a tolerably good
income, and Ouselcroft is rather a pretty place, as I think you will own
when you see it.”
“No doubt. Scrope says you have one of the nicest seats in Cheshire.”
“I cannot contradict him, since I entertain the same opinion myself. But
you must come and see it. I shall not prolong my stay in town. Possibly
I may return to-morrow.”
“So soon?”
“I have nothing to detain me, and, under present circumstances, I shall
be glad to get back.”
“It will be far more agreeable to me to see you at your own house, than
here,” observed Lord Courland.
“Then be it so,” she replied. “Come as soon as you please.”
“Shall I bring Scrope Danvers with me?”
“By all means; I have plenty of room. Besides, Brackley, Lady Barfleur's
residence, is only a few miles off.”
“Miss Calverley resides with you, I believe?”
“Yes; and a great delight she is to me. I couldn't do without her.”
“And Chetwynd--pardon my asking so many questions--is he also with you?”
“For the present. I hope you like him?”
“I like him immensely. I'm sure we shall get on together uncommonly
well. And now, am I at liberty to inform Lady Thicknesse and Scrope that
you have consented to become Lady Courland?”
“Yes; I think it will be quite proper to do so,” she replied.
Not many minutes afterwards voices were heard without, the door was
thrown open by Higgins, and Lady Thicknesse and most of the persons whom
we left below entered the room.
As Lord Courland arose and advanced to meet her ladyship, she could not
fail to be struck by his joyous air.
“I hope I may congratulate your lordship?” she said.
“Do I look like a rejected suitor?” he remarked.
“Not exactly,” she replied. “I should say all has gone well.”
“Yes; my suit has prospered,” he said. “But I am entirely indebted to
your ladyship for the treasure I have gained.”
“That you have gained a treasure, I am certain,” rejoined Lady
Thicknesse. “But I do not see how you owe it to me.”
“Is it not here that I have found it?” he said. “But for you, I might
never have met the only person who can make me happy.”
By this time Mrs. Calverley herself had come forward to participate in
the general felicitations.
“What think you of this proposed marriage?” observed Sir Bridgnorth, in
a low tone, to Chetwynd.
“I think very little about it,” replied the other. “It will never take
place.”
“Wherefore not?”
“I cannot explain myself,” said Chetwynd; “but, depend upon it, I am
right.”
“Well, time will show,” said Sir Bridgnorth. “I am going down to
Charlton to-morrow. Come, and spend a few days with me. I feel certain
there will be a general move.”
And so it proved.
No sooner did Mrs. Calverley announce her intention of returning to
Ouselcroft on the morrow, than Emmeline and Mildred said they should
return at the same time, though Lady Thicknesse besought them to stay a
few days longer.
At last, when she could not prevail upon them to remain, she declared
she would go down to Haslemere for a short time, and while in Cheshire
would come and spend a week with her sister, Lady Barfleur, at Brackley
Hall.
Determined not to be left out, Captain Danvers likewise volunteered to
go to Brackley. Indeed, from the various plans proposed and discussed,
there seemed every prospect that the whole party would soon meet again
in the country.
As it was quite impossible that Emmeline and Mildred could part with
Rose, it was arranged that she should accompany them; and in the mean
time the little damsel was allowed to take leave of her friends.
One of the best dinners Monsieur Zephyrus had ever served formed the
farewell entertainment. The merit of the repast was fully appreciated;
but the company was not so lively as heretofore.
Next day the party broke up.
Though the purpose for which she had assembled her guests had not
been accomplished, good-natured Lady Thicknesse was content, and her
congratulations to Mrs. Calverley were sincere.
As to the fair widow, who had now reached the summit of her ambition,
she did not attempt to disguise her satisfaction.
Since she had formed the engagement with Lord Courland, a slight but
perceptible change had taken place in her demeanour. Her manner to
Mildred was more haughty.
Before her departure she had a private conference with her noble suitor,
when a good many matters were talked over, but in the pleasantest way
possible. In fact, all seemed _couleur de rose_.
Lord Courland attended her to the station, and, while bidding her adieu,
she reminded him that in three days she should expect him at Ouselcroft.
“Doubt not you will see me,” he rejoined. In the same railway carriage
with Mrs. Calverley were two young ladies, a lady's maid, and two
gentlemen. The gentlemen were Chetwynd and Sir Bridgnorth, who were
about to accompany the ladies to Chester.
The lady's-maid was remarkably pretty; but there was a tear in her
bright eye, the cause of which will be understood when we mention
that on the platform stood a tall, black-whiskered young man, gazing
wistfully at her.
Harry Netterville--for it was he--did not dare to approach the carriage,
but waved his hand, as the snorting engine started on its journey and
bore his love away.