Part 18 (1/2)

'He is to get in,' said Henrietta with a smile, and drive her to their cottage. Have I not managed well to come alone? We shall have such a charming drive to-day.'

'You are so beautiful!' murmured Ferdinand.

'I am content if you but think so. You did not hear me approach? What were you doing? Plunged in meditation? Now tell me truly, were you thinking of her?'

'Indeed, I have no other thought. Oh, my Henrietta! you are so beautiful to-day. I cannot talk of anything but your beauty.'

'And how did you sleep? Are you comfortable? I have brought you some flowers to make your room look pretty.'

They soon reached the farm-house. The good-wife seemed a little surprised when she observed her guest driving Miss Temple, but far more pleased. Henrietta ran into the house to see the children, spoke some kind words to the little maiden, and asked if their guest had breakfasted. Then, turning to Ferdinand, she said, 'Have you forgotten that you are to give me a breakfast? It shall be in the porch. Is it not sweet and pretty? See, here are your flowers, and I have brought you some fruit.'

The breakfast was arranged. 'But you do not play your part, sweet Henrietta,' he said; 'I cannot breakfast alone.'

She affected to share his repast, that he might partake of it; but, in truth, she only busied herself in arranging the flowers. Yet she conducted herself with so much dexterity, that Ferdinand had an opportunity of gratifying his appet.i.te, without being placed in a position, awkward at all times, insufferable for a lover, that of eating in the presence of others who do not join you in the occupation.

'Now,' she suddenly said, sitting by his side, and placing a rose in his dress, 'I have a little plan today, which I think will be quite delightful. You shall drive me to Armine.'

Ferdinand started. He thought of Glas...o...b..ry.

His miserable situation recurred to him. This was the bitter drop in the cup; yes! in the very plenitude of his rare felicity he expressed a pang. His confusion was not un.o.bserved by Miss Temple; for she was very quick in her perception; but she could not comprehend it. It did not rest on her mind, particularly when Ferdinand a.s.sented to her proposition, but added, 'I forgot that Armine is more interesting to you than to me. All my a.s.sociations with Armine are painful. Ducie is my delight.'

'Ah! my romance is at Armine; yours at Ducie. What we live among, we do not always value. And yet I love my home,' she added, in a somewhat subdued, even serious tone; 'all my a.s.sociations with Ducie are sweet and pleasant. Will they always be so?'

She hit upon a key to which the pa.s.sing thoughts of Ferdinand too completely responded, but he restrained the mood of his mind. As she grew grave, he affected cheerfulness. 'My Henrietta must always be happy,' he said, 'at least, if her Ferdinand's love can make her so.'

She did not reply, but she pressed his hand. Then, after a moment's silence, she said, 'My Ferdinand must not be low-spirited about dear Armine. I have confidence in our destiny; I see a happy, a very happy future.'

Who could resist so fair a prophet? Not the sanguine mind of the enamoured Ferdinand Armine. He drank inspiration from her smiles, and dwelt with delight on the tender accents of her animating sympathy.

'I never shall be low-spirited with you,' he replied; 'you are my good genius. O Henrietta! what heaven it is to be together!'

'I bless you for these words. We will not go to Armine to-day. Let us walk. And to speak the truth, for I am not ashamed of saying anything to you, it would be hardly discreet, perhaps, to be driving about the country in this guise. And yet,' she added, after a moment's hesitation, 'what care I for what people say? O Ferdinand! I think only of you!'

That was a delicious ramble which these young and enamoured creatures took that sunny morn! The air was sweet, the earth was beautiful, and yet they were insensible to everything but their mutual love.

Inexhaustible is the converse of fond hearts! A simple story, too, and yet there are so many ways of telling it!

'How strange that we should have ever met!' said Henrietta Temple.

'Indeed, I think it most natural,' said Ferdinand; 'I will believe it the fulfilment of a happy destiny. For all that I have sighed for now I meet, and more, much more than my imagination could ever hope for.'

'Only think of that morning drive,' resumed Henrietta, 'such a little time ago, and yet it seems an age! Let us believe in destiny, dear Ferdinand, or you must think of me, I fear, that which I would not wish.'

'My own Henrietta, I can think of you only as the n.o.blest and the sweetest of beings. My love is ever equalled by my grat.i.tude!'

'My Ferdinand, I had read of such feelings, but did not believe in them.

I did not believe, at least, that they were reserved for me. And yet I have met many persons, and seen something more, much more than falls to the lot of women of my age. Believe me, indeed, my eye has. .h.i.therto been undazzled, and my heart untouched.' He pressed her hand.

'And then,' she resumed, 'in a moment; but it seemed not like common life. That beautiful wilderness, that ruinous castle! As I gazed around, I felt not as is my custom. I felt as if some fate were impending, as if my life and lot were bound up, as it were, with that strange and silent scene. And then he came forward, and I beheld him, so unlike all other men, so beautiful, so pensive! O Ferdinand! pardon me for loving you!'

and she gently turned her head, and hid her face on his breast.