JEALOUSY.
After Lord Albert had parted with his
friend in the Park, he returned again to Lady
Dunmelraise's house; but still in vain--they
came not. The agony of suspense, when prolonged,
is perhaps the severest which the
human mind can know; but like all chastisements
or corrections, it is never sent without
a meaning, and if entertained as it is mercifully
intended it should be, we shall reap the
fruits of the trial.
In the present case, Lord Albert's disappointment
brought back a livelier sense of
the attachment he really felt for Lady Adeline,
and awoke all those tender fears and reminiscences
which cherish love, but which a too
great security of possession had for the present
blunted, or at least laid in abeyance.
He now wondered how he could have
suffered so much time to elapse without
writing to her. He wondered, too, that he
had not heard from her; she had not then
missed the blank in his part of the correspondence;
and it was evident some other
interest had supplied that one in her heart.--He
looked at her picture, as if he could read
in that image an answer to these various
surmises; but it was placid, and serene--it
smiled as was her wont, and he felt displeased
at the senseless portrait, for an expression
which he could not have borne her to wear,
had she really known what his fears and
feelings were. He shut the case and pushed
it from him;--he felt angry--and then
ashamed--for conscience goaded him with its
sting, and in turn questioned him, as to his
right of indulging one such sensation against
_her_, whom in fact he knew he had neglected:
but all this process of mental analization
was salutary, and as he came by degrees to
know himself better, he was enabled to form
a truer estimation, not only of the amiable
person to whom he was bound by every tie
of honour, but of the true nature of real
worth.
At length, on the fourth morning from that
on which he met Lord Glenmore, he found in
North Audley Street a note from Lady Adeline.
"A note only!" he said, hastily breaking
the seal. It was written from an inn on the
road; it informed him that Lady Dunmelraise
had borne the journey very ill, which had
occasioned them to stop frequently; but that
they would reach town she hoped on the following
evening. Lord Albert turned quickly
to the date, and found that it was of the preceding
day, so that he might expect their
arrival that very evening. A gleam of delightful
anticipation now shed joy over his
heart. We easily gloss over our own faults;
and Lord Albert found all his self-reproaches
for neglect and temporary coldness merged
in the fondness he actually felt at that moment,
and his present determination to abide
by, and act upon this feeling, silenced all
self-accusation. With a beating pulse, and an emotion
he did not wish to quell, he determined
on not leaving the house till he should once
more have seen _his_ Adeline.
He seated himself, therefore, in the drawing-room,
and gave a loose to those pleasurable
sensations which now flowed in upon
him. The apartment had been prepared for
Lady Dunmelraise, and all the usual objects
in her own and her daughter's occupations
were set in their wonted places. He recognized
with transport a thousand trifling circumstances
connected with them, which
brought his love, his _own_ love, more vividly
before his eyes. As he carefully enumerated
and dwelt upon these, his eyes rested on a
vacant space in the wall near the piano-forte,
where a drawing of himself had hung; and
the enchanting thought that it had been her
companion in the country, came in aid of all
the rest to soften and gladden every sensation
of his heart. As his eyes wandered over the
apartment in quest of fresh food for delight,
they rested on a parcel of papers, and letters,
lying on the writing table. He turned them
over, hardly knowing why he did so, when a
frank from Restormel, directed to Lady Adeline
Seymour, gave him an unpleasant shock,
and he dropped it with a sudden revulsion of
sensation that was any thing but gentle.
He again resumed the letter, turned it
round and round, looked at the seal--it was a
coat of arms, but the motto, "_for life_," was
a peculiar one. He wondered to what family
it belonged; he thought of consulting some
heraldic work in order to discover, when the
sound of a heavy laden carriage passing
in the street, drew off his attention. He
flew to the window--it was a family coach,
but one glance told him it was not that
of Lady Dunmelraise. Back he came to
the letter table; again _the letter_ was before
his eyes--_the letter_, for amongst many he
saw but one.
"It is surprising," he said to himself, "that
Adeline should have a correspondent at Restormel,
and I not know of it; but shortly,
very shortly, this mystery shall be solved. I
will ask her at once--but carelessly, naturally,
who is her unknown friend at Restormel?
Ask her? no, she will of course tell
me, if she has formed any new acquaintance
with whom she is sufficiently intimate to correspond,
and if she does not of herself tell me,
I shall never _inquire_ into the matter--indeed
why should I? No, there is nothing renders
a man so silly as jealousy, or throws him so
much in a woman's power as letting her see
he is jealous."
With these, and many such contradictory
reasonings as these, did Lord Albert continue
to pace the room along and across, and every
now and then stop and fix his eyes on the
offending letter; when again a sound attracted
him to the window, and though it was dusk,
and objects were indistinctly seen at a distance,
he recognized the well-known equipage. The
next moment he was in the street; and the
next it drove up to the door. He heard Lady
Adeline's soft voice cry out, "There's Albert!"
as she half turned to her mother, and
kept kissing her hand to himself. The carriage
door was opened, and she sprang out,
receiving the pressure of his hand with an
answering expression of fondness.
"Dear Albert, how do you do? have you
not thought we were an age on the road?
But I hope you received my note." Ere he
could reply, Lady Dunmelraise's extended
hand was cordially presented to him, and as
affectionately taken; and while each rested
on his arm on entering the house, he felt in
the kindly pressure of both that he was as
welcome to them as ever.
When he had assisted Lady Dunmelraise,
who moved feebly, to the drawing-room, and
placed her pillows on the couch, even in
this moment of joyous re-union, he could not
fail to observe what ravages sickness had
made in her frame since they last met; and
as he expressed, though in modified terms, in
order not to alarm her, the regret he felt at
seeing her so unwell, he observed the eyes
of Lady Adeline fixed upon him, in order to
read his real opinion on the first sight he had
of her mother; and before he could regulate
his own feelings on the subject, those of Lady
Adeline's overshadowed her countenance with
an expression of sadness she was not prepared
to command, while the tears rushed to her
eyes. Again holding out her hand to Lord
Albert, while a smile of mingled joy and
sorrow beamed over her features, and partly
dispersed the cloud, she said,
"All will be well _now_; my dearest mamma
will soon be better--joy and happiness will
once again be our's." Lord Albert thanked
her with his eloquent eyes; and as he impressed
a kiss on her offered hand, he replied:
"How fortunate that I received your letter
when I did, for in another hour I should have
been on my way to Dunmelraise."
"Indeed!" said Lady Adeline, her eyes
sparkling with pleasure.
"Yes; and I had, but for something which
detained me, been on my road there long
before your letter arrived."
"That would indeed have been unfortunate,"
said Lady Dunmelraise; "to have
missed you after so long hoping to have seen
you there in vain, would have doubled our
regret;" she spoke with a tone of something
like reproach, at least so Lord Albert took
it; and she added, with a melancholy smile,
"It is a bad omen that a letter from _Adeline_
should have _prevented_ you from coming to
us."
Lord Albert felt embarrassed; there was
something relative to the delay of his coming
which he knew he could not explain, and this
consciousness made him feel as if he were
acting a double part. At this moment Lady
Adeline perceived the letters lying on the
table, and taking them up, she glanced her
eye over them as she turned them round one
by one, saying, "this is for you, mamma--and
this--and this--and this, as she handed them
to Lady Dunmelraise--but this one is for myself."
Lord Albert's attention had from the
first moment of her taking up the letters
been riveted upon her, and now with ill-concealed
anxiety he watched every turn of her
countenance, while she broke the seal and
perused the letter. She read it, he conceived,
with great interest; and said, when she had
concluded, addressing Lady Dunmelraise--
"It is a kind word of inquiry for you, my
dear mamma, from George Foley." Lord
Albert changed colour as this name was
pronounced; but neither she nor Lady Dunmelraise
observed the circumstance, and this
gave him leisure and power to recover from
the confusion he experienced. Lady Adeline
again resumed, after a short pause, "You
must have met Mr. Foley at Restormel, Albert;
what do you think of him?"
"I had little opportunity of judging of
him," replied Lord Albert, hesitating as he
spoke; "but he was only at Restormel for a
part of the time I was there. He had, however,
a strong recommendation to my favourable
opinion, from the warm terms of praise and
admiration in which he mentioned you, Adeline."
She smiled, and without any alteration
of manner went on to say:
"I am afraid then he has _too_ favourable an
opinion of me; and if he has raised your expectations
so high of my improvement since
last we met, I shall have reason to lament
your having become acquainted with him;
but he is such an _adorateur_ of mamma's, that
he thinks every thing that belongs to her is
perfection!"
Notwithstanding Lady Adeline's seeming
calmness while speaking of Mr. Foley--notwithstanding
the natural and ingenuous expression
of her words and countenance, Lord
Albert could not divest himself of the idea
that Mr. Foley had some undue power over
her affections. It is easy, perhaps, to shut
the door against evil thoughts; but when once
they are admitted, they obtain a footing and
a consequence which it was never intended
that they should have. Beware, all ye who
love, of admitting one spark of jealousy into
your breasts, without immediately quenching
the same by open and free discussion
with the object of your affections! But there
lies the difficulty--we are ashamed of harbouring
an injurious thought of those we love;
or rather, we are ashamed of _confessing_ that
we do so; and we go on in the danger of
concealment, rather than by humbling our
pride, and laying open our error, obtain the
probable chance of having it exposed, and
removed. While monosyllables of indifferent
import dropped from Lord Albert's lips, he
was in his heart cherishing the false notion that
had the letter, which gave him so much uneasiness,
been entirely of the import which
Lady Adeline represented it to be, it would
have been more natural to have addressed it
to Lady Dunmelraise herself.
He did not, indeed, dare to impugn Lady
Adeline's truth: but he conceived that no
other man should presume to have an interest
in her--in her who _belonged to himself_ (every
man will understand this), which could entitle
him to hold a correspondence with her. He
consequently became abstracted, and there was
a sort of restraint upon the ease of his manner
and conversation, of which Lady Dunmelraise's
penetration soon made her aware, and
to which even the young and unsuspecting
Adeline could not remain wholly blind.
In order to replace things on the footing
which they had been formerly, and which on
their first meeting they still appeared to be,
Lady Adeline turned the discourse to her pursuits
in the country, and spoke in detail of
her drawing, her music, her flower-garden,
and the families of the poor in their neighbourhood
whom she and Lord Albert had so
often visited together.
"You remember," she said, "poor Betsy
Colville, who never recovered the loss of her
lover who was shipwrecked; she is still in the
same state. She goes every day to the gate
where they last parted, takes out the broken
sixpence he gave her at their last interview;
and having returned home, looks in her father's
face, and says '_to-morrow_.' She never
repines, never misses church--joins in family
worship; but her poor mind is touched, and
she can no longer do the work of the house or
tend on her aged parents. I have therefore
paid my chief attentions to that family--and
they are so grateful--so grateful, too, for what
you have done for them. The myrtle we
planted together, Albert, on the gable-end of
the house, now nearly reaches the thatch;
and in all their distress about their daughter,
the good old pair have never forgotten to tend
that plant. Mr. Foley and I rode or walked
there every day."
The latter words of this discourse poisoned
all the sweetness of the preceding part; and the
idea of Mr. Foley became associated in Lord
Albert's distempered mind, with all the interest
and all the enthusiasm expressed by Lady
Adeline; so that he read in her descriptions of
her mode of having passed her time, and the
pleasure she had innocently enjoyed, nothing
but her love of Mr. Foley's company.
Lord Albert became still more silent, or
spoke only in broken sentences; and a deeper
gloom gradually spread over each of the three
individuals, usurping the place of that cordial
outpouring of the heart, which had at first
rendered the moment of meeting so delightful.
After a silence, during which Lady Adeline
and Lady Dunmelraise appeared mutually affected
by the awkwardness which the change
in Lord Albert's manner had excited, yet
anxious to conceal from each other the knowledge
that such was the case--they felt relieved,
when he took up a newspaper, and
read aloud the announcement of an approaching
drawing-room.
Lady Dunmelraise, glad of an opportunity
to find some subject of discourse foreign
to the thoughts which obtruded themselves so
painfully upon her, said, "Well, Adeline, that
is a favourable circumstance, _à quelque chose
malheur est bon_; had I not been so much
worse exactly at this very time, we had perhaps
not been in London; for though I have
for some months past wished you to be presented
at court, we might, ten to one, not
have had courage to leave Dunmelraise at
this sweet season; but as it is, the opportunity
must not be lost, and the only question is, by
whom shall the presentation take place--for
alas! I am not able myself to have that pleasure,
and I fear my dear sister Lady Delamere
will not either;" then pausing a moment,
she added, "perhaps, Lord Albert, Lady Tresyllian
will kindly take that office, if she is to be
in town."
"I am sure she would readily comply
with any wish of yours; but I know my mother
has, in a great measure, given up the
London world, and has not been at any of the
drawing-rooms during the present reign; but,
perhaps, on such an occasion, she might be
induced to forego her determination of retreat."
"Oh, I would not for the world," said
Lady Adeline, "torment Lady Tresyllian
about it; for," she added, smiling, "you know
how very little I care about such things."
"It is well," said Lady Dunmelraise, "to
hold every thing in estimation according to its
due value. Most young persons are _too_ fond of
the gaieties and pleasures of the world; but
you, my dear Adeline, perhaps contemn them
in one sweeping clause of indifference, without
having properly considered to what advantages
they may tend when resorted to in due degree,
and in subordination to better pursuits. A
drawing-room I hold to be one of those very
few worldly pageants which are connected with
some valuable and estimable feelings; the attending
them is an homage due to the state of
the sovereign; they uphold the aristocracy of
the country, which is one of the three great
powers of government, now too much, too
dangerously set aside; and they ought to, and
do in great measure, keep up those barriers
in society, which prevent an indiscriminate
admission of vice and virtue, at least as far as
regards an outward respect to the _appearances
of decorum_. Whenever drawing-rooms shall
be abolished, you will see that much greater
licence in society will take place. The countenance
of the sovereign, the right to be in
his presence, is one which none would voluntarily
resign; and to avoid losing it, is a
check upon the conduct of many, who are
not regulated by better motives; while those
who are, will always duly appreciate those
honours which flow from monarchs, and
which form a part of our glorious constitution.
'Love God, honour the king,' is the
good old adage; and with this conviction on
my mind, and the remembrance of that loyalty
and attachment to the present House of
Hanover which your ancestors have ever displayed,
even to the sacrifice of their lives and
fortunes, my Adeline, I have set my heart on
your being presented to your king; and the
only consideration is, who shall be the person
to present you."
"Well, dearest mamma," replied Lady Adeline,
"any thing you wish, I shall be delighted
to do, and I make no doubt you are perfectly
right; only I did not feel the least anxious, and
I wished to set your mind at rest upon the subject
of my going into public." Lord Albert said,
with an expression of melancholy and displeasure,
"It is quite unnatural for a young person
of your age, Adeline, to affect to despise the
amusements of the world; and unless you
have some _cause_ for doing so, best known to
yourself, I confess I do not understand it."
Lady Adeline was too quick-sighted not to
perceive that something or other pained and
displeased Lord Albert, and had they been
quite alone, she might have asked him the
occasion of this change in his humour; but
as it was, she did not dare to question him;
and by way of turning the conversation into
another channel, she inquired, of whom
consisted the party at Restormel; if they
were clever, or distinguished, or agreeable;
and whether the mode of life there was to his
taste? Lord Albert seemed to awake out of
a sort of reverie into which he had fallen,
and his countenance was agitated by many
commingling expressions as he replied,
"I really can hardly tell you; there were
the Tilneys, the Tenderdens, the Boileaus,
Lady Hamlet Vernon, Mr. Leslie Winyard.
At that sort of party there is little occasion
for the display of talent, and people are glad
to be quiet for a few days when they go to
their country houses; so that each individual
is thinking more of repose than of shining.
As to their mode of life, it was pretty nearly,
I think, what it is when they are in town."
Though Lord Albert spoke this in a hurried
tone, he felt as though he had got well over
a difficulty. But the remark Lady Dunmelraise
made upon his answer, did not particularly
serve his turn at the moment:--"Either
the persons who I heard composed
that party, or Lord Albert, must be much
changed since I knew them, if they could be
in unison," and she fixed her eyes upon him;--his
embarrassment was visible, and did not
subside as she went on to speak particularly
of Lady Hamlet Vernon: "She remembered
her marriage," she said, and commented
upon those sort of marriages, saying, "that
all intriguing schemes were detestable, but
those respecting marriage were of all others
the most thoroughly wicked and despicable.
Lady Hamlet's conduct, too, after marriage
was not very praiseworthy: if a woman sacrifice
every other consideration in allying
herself to her husband for the sake of aggrandizement,
she must at least continue to act
upon that system, and if possible wash out
the disgrace of such an act (for I consider it
to be no less) by her subsequent mode of
behaviour, and the dignified uses to which
she applies her power. But in the present
instance this was far from being the case,
and she had allowed an apparent levity of
conduct, at least, to sully her character. In
one instance, I _know_, she has drawn a person,
in whom I feel great interest, into a manner
of life, and an idleness of existence, which, to
call it by no harsher name, is one of vanity
and folly; but I had hoped her influence was
over in that quarter."
"As I do not know to what you allude,"
rejoined Lord Albert, "I cannot exactly reply;
but certainly Lady Hamlet Vernon is
very handsome, very agreeable, and, for aught
I know to the contrary, leads now a very good
sort of life. She has a finely-disposed heart,
and, I should think, is better than half the
people who find fault with her. If, from having
married an old _roué_, she was thrown into
danger, which her personal charms rendered
very likely to have been the case, kindness I
am sure would at any time open her eyes to
avoid these; whereas undue severity might
make her rush headlong into them--for harsh
opinions in similar cases, nine times out of
ten, drive such persons from bad to worse."
"I conceive," said Lady Dunmelraise, "that
this may sometimes be the case; but it is frequently
only an excuse for not choosing to hear
the truth told. However, there is a society,
of which Lady Hamlet Vernon is one, which
I hold to be the subverter of every thing estimable.
Its great danger is the specious ease
and indifference of those who compose it,
the system being without any system whatever.
The great gentleness of manner and
entire freedom, which seem to be its characteristics,
are its most dangerous snares. No
consecutive speech upon any subject, no power
of reasoning, no appeal to religion, are tolerated
by these persons. They have a lawless
form of self-government indeed, by which they
keep up their own sect and set,--but there is
a mystery in the delusions which they cast
around their victims, the more difficult to detect
since the whole of their lives is spent in a
seeming carelessness about every thing.
"The warning voice of a parent can alone
put a young and unsuspecting member of
society on his guard against being drawn into
this vortex; but it is the young married
persons to whom such warning is more particularly
necessary. However, because there
are persons, who by artful intrigue arrogate
to themselves a certain consideration,
which they receive from the uninstructed and
unwary, and whose ways are certainly not
those of pleasantness or peace--we are not to
say but that there are others who to the
highest rank unite the highest principles, and
who reflect honour on the class to which they
belong--persons who consider their high stations
as being the gifts of God, and themselves
as responsible agents. Yes, the true nobility
of Britain will yield to none other of any
country for intrinsic worth; all the virtues
adorn their families, and religion and honour
stamp them with that true nobility of soul,
without which all distinction is but a beacon
of disgrace.
"It is not, therefore, because a few worthless
or foolish persons, in the vast concourse
of London society, affect an exclusiveness
which rests on no basis of real worth or dignity,
but on the very reverse, that all intercourse
with the world is to be avoided, or all
innocent pleasure to be denied to young persons;
and I should be exceedingly disappointed
to see my Adeline retiring from her
state and station, and coming to have a distaste
for its amusements, because I feel certain that
so violent a re-action is not natural, and that
the real way to be of service to herself and
others, is to fulfil the rank and station of life
wherein she is placed, and in fact to do as our
great inimitable Pattern did--to go about
doing good."
Lord Albert's feelings, while Lady Dunmelraise
was speaking, had undergone many
changes, but the last was that of pleasurable
approval at finding Lady Dunmelraise's opinion
so much in coincidence with his own--and
he said, in his own natural warm manner,
"I hope Adeline will feel quite convinced, by
your sensible manner, my dear Lady Dunmelraise,
of representing this matter, that there is
no virtue, nothing commendable indeed, in despising
or condemning the world _en masse_, and
that there is just as much real good to be done
by living in as living out of it. True virtue
does not lie in time or place--it is of all times,
of all places; and it is a narrow, bigoted view
of the subject alone, which partakes of monastic
rigour and hypocritical ambition under
the garb of humility, which would promulgate
any other doctrine."
"My dear Albert, you know that I have no
wish but to please mamma and you; and I
need not pretend but that I shall be exceedingly
diverted by going to public places. All
I meant to say was, not to make yourselves
uneasy about finding a _chaperon_ for me, because
I am perfectly contented to remain as I
am--although I might be equally well diverted
in leading what is called a gayer life."
Lord Albert's countenance relapsed into
brightness as he said, taking her hand and
putting it to his lips, "You are a dear and a
rare creature--is she not, Lady Dunmelraise?"--and
this appeal Lady Dunmelraise felt no
inclination to controvert; but, rejoicing in the
present disposition which she once more beheld
in her future son-in-law, she now dismissed
him for the evening, saying, "Adeline
and I require some repose, that we may be
fresh to-morrow for all the great events to
which we shall look forward with pleasure, I
am sure, as you seem to be quite of our way
of thinking respecting her _début_ in the great
world--and so good night." The wish was
reiterated kindly, warmly, by all parties, and
they parted happier even than they had met.
As soon as Lord Albert reached his hotel,
he found a note from Lady Hamlet Vernon,
announcing her arrival from Restormel, and
requesting to see him. In an instant, as though
by magic, his doubts and fears respecting Lady
Adeline returned; for with Lady Hamlet Vernon
was connected the recollection of her
mysterious note at Restormel, on the morning
of his departure from thence--and with that
recollection George Foley was but too deeply
mingled. Then ensued a chaos in his mind,
one thought chasing another, and none abiding
to fix any purpose or decide any measure.
At one moment he determined--if such passing
impulse can be called determination--not
to go near Lady Hamlet; but the next he
thought she had shewn so much true interest
for him--she had listened so often to his
rebukes--apparently with more pleasure than
she did to praise from others--that he should
be ungrateful to avoid her _now_, because other
dearer interests filled up his time and his heart,
and he finally resolved on obeying her wishes,
and visiting her the next day.
In the morning of that day, before he had
finished his late breakfast, and ere he was
prepared to deny himself, the door of his
apartment opened, and Mr. Foley was close
to him ere his servant had time to announce
his name.
"I am come," said the latter, with his
polite and honeyed phrase, "to bring you
pleasant tidings, which I trust will apologize
for this my early intrusion. I am just arrived
from South Audley Street, where I had the
happiness of finding our friends pretty well;
Lady Dunmelraise, indeed, was not up, having
been fatigued by her journey; but Lady
Adeline is blooming in beauty--I do not know
when I have seen her looking better." Lord
Albert bowed, and in his coldest manner replied,
"he was very happy indeed to hear that
Lady Adeline Seymour was so well, and he
hoped, when he should make his personal
inquiries, to find Lady Dunmelraise in the
drawing-room."
Mr. Foley was too penetrating not to see
that this information, as it came from him,
conveyed no pleasurable feeling; but affecting
not to observe this, he went on to talk of the
late party at Restormel--spoke of Lady
Hamlet Vernon as being a delightful creature,
and drew a kind of parallel _raisonné_ between
her character and that of Lady Adeline's.
Lord Albert was thinking, all the time he
spoke, of the impertinent assumption of Mr.
Foley's addressing him on the subject of Lady
Adeline, and discussing her merits, as though
he were not aware of them, and had not a
better right and ampler means to know and
to value them.
Still there was a suavity--a delicacy even,
in Mr. Foley's mode of expressing himself,
which gave no tangible opportunity to shew
offence; and Lord Albert, though writhing
under impatience, was obliged to control
himself. As soon as he could possibly contrive
to do so, he changed the conversation, and
spoke of the Opera, the Exhibition, the topics
of the day--of all, in short, that was most
uninteresting to him; and carried on an under
current of thought all the time on the impropriety
Adeline had been guilty of, in receiving
Mr. Foley without her mother's presence to
sanction such a visit, and on going himself
directly to South Audley Street, in order that
he might disclose to her his opinion on the
inexpediency of such a measure, as that of her
receiving the visits of young men when alone.
But though the evident abstraction of Lord
Albert D'Esterre rather increased than diminished,
still Mr. Foley sat on, and sometimes
rose to make a remark on a picture--sometimes
opened a book, and commented upon its
contents. Similar provocation must have occurred
to every one at some time or other,
and it is in vain to describe what, after all, no
description can do justice to. A note arrived
for Lord Albert--it was from Lady Adeline--very
kind, but desiring him not to come to
South Audley Street till four o'clock--saying
she was going, by her mamma's desire, to see
her aunt Lady Delamere, who was confined by
a feverish cold, and could not leave her chamber
to come to them.
Lord Albert's mortification was painted on
his countenance. "If you have nothing better
to do this morning, D'Esterre, and that your
note does not otherwise take up your time,
will you accompany me to Lady Hamlet
Vernon's?" Lord Albert felt, "what, am I to
be balked, dogged, forestalled in every trifling
circumstance by this man!" but he _said_,
hesitating as he spoke, "yes--no, that is to
say, I had an engagement, but it is postponed
for the present--therefore, if you please, I
will accompany you to Lady Hamlet's door;"
and Mr. Foley, evidently triumphing in having
foiled Lord Albert's real intentions, whatever
they might be, but maintaining still his quiet
composure, offered Lord Albert his arm, and
they walked together towards Grosvenor
Square, each talking of one thing and thinking
of another.