Perrott as much as to any of them. He turned quite pale, and muttered "Amazing!" Mr. Lennard just touched his hat, and walked past without stopping or speaking. "Oh, I am so glad!" sighed Tiny. CHAPTER XXIV. LORD FAREHAM'S RING. "Si tu voulais, Madeleine, Dont la perle est le fleuron!" VICTOR HUGO. THAT same April Sunday afternoon, Lord Fareham came to St. George's Palace, and found Lady Anne Corbet alone in her drawing-room. She was glad and yet disturbed at his coming, for she felt very anxious about Lisa, who during the last two days had been quite unable to hide her low spirits. Her aunt had been afraid to ask for her confidence, or to say much about Will, whose influence seemed to be so much greater than she had imagined, and who evidently was not engaged to any Miss Kenneth. Under the circumstances, it might have been better if Spenser had put off his visit for a few days, till things had regained their usual level of calm cheerfulness. It was terrible to Lady Anne to see Lisa, as she had appeared that morning, with a strange look about her eyes, and to hear from Kean that she did not believe her mistress had slept at all that night. Lady Anne sighed, and wondered what was the matter with all the young people; for even her dear Spenser was not himself. He looked pale and stern, was absent in his manner, forgot the pretty speeches and attention that he generally bestowed on his old friend, walked tiresomely up and down the room, and in answer to her questions, muttered something about newspapers and unauthorised gossip. Then he turned round suddenly, and asked, "Where is Lisa?" "She is gone to the afternoon service at the chapel," said Lady Anne. "It is nearly four o'clock; she will soon be in now." "I shall go and meet her," said Lord Fareham, with his hand on the door. There was great distress and anxiety in Lady Anne's gentle eyes. She stretched out her hand entreatingly. "Stay a moment, Spenser. What is it?" He paused and looked at her. mean?" "What do you "Forgive me-I don't know-Lisa does not seem very well or happy." "Does not she? That is all the more reason-you must trust me. I know what I am doing," he said, smiling. "Very well. I do trust you," said Lady Anne, and she leaned back on her sofa with a sigh. Lord Fareham went out across the court, and waited for his cousin at the foot of the chapel stairs. She soon came, descending the steps slowly and wearily; her long eyelashes were damp, and her cheeks paler than usual. Spenser could not quite understand her look when she saw him; the slight start, the sudden tinge of colour, might mean anything. He gave them their most hopeful meaning, and all the sternness was gone out of his face as he joined her. Instead of going towards Lady Anne's rooms, they turned out of the gateway, walked along the cloister, and made their way round into the gardens. But there was a certain constraint between them, and their talk had by no means the ease and pleasantness of a few days before. The clever, successful, fortunate Spenser Corbet felt quite a new diffidence of himself, and found the greatest difficulty in saying what had been in his mind all these months. Lisa Dalbiac, in the last forty-eight hours, had learnt something of her own true feelings, and could no longer be quite at ease with her cousin. The light had come, and it was painful to her eyes. Lord Fareham stood still by a corner of mossy wall, where he and Lisa had often paused before to admire a soft undulating view of the park with its grand old trees, and a glimpse of the river in the distance. The birds were singing wonderfully that afternoon; they seemed to Lisa to be repeating the words of the choristers in the chapel, and thoughts came into her mind again which had flashed across it there, thoughts of truth to herself and to others, influences which, if her cousin had known it, were very unfavourable to him. "I have something to say to you," he began, rather abruptly. "I want you to accept something from me— this ring-may I put it on your finger?” One glance showed Lisa what the ring was. She coloured deeply, shook her head, and clasped her hands together. No-no, I could not-Thank you very, very much." "No! Ah, well-you must not say no to me again, Lisa. You cannot, because everything that is mine is yours, if you will have it. I think you must have understood me, dear Lisa, all this time. Will you make me the most fortunate man in the world? Will you be my wife? I will do my best to make you happy." This was not an offer to be laughed at and put aside, like poor Will's last year. This was very serious indeed, and certainly Lisa felt no inclination to treat it lightly. "Thank you," she said. already, that I am sure you "But you are so fortunate can do without me." She said this gravely, glancing up into the dark earnest face beside her. She brought down upon herself a great many protestations. There was nothing worth living for but herself, and many assurances of the same kind. No doubt Lord Fareham meant them, every word, but somehow they failed of their effect. Perhaps he did himself harm by being a little too sure of success, taking her hand, and once more offering that unfortunate ring. Such speeches as this, too, jarred on Lisa's ears. "Don't you know what pleasure it would give your aunt, to see you really in your right place?" |
