Part 24 (1/2)

”The fringed curtains of thine eye advance and say what thou see'st yond.”

--_Tempest_.

”Accost, Sir Andrew, accost.”

--_Twelfth Night_.

”Let us go thank him and encourage him.

My _Guardian's_ rough and envious disposition Strikes me at heart--Sir you have well deserved.”

--_As You Like It_.

WE had arrived within a quarter of a mile of the gate, and I had just settled to my thorough dissatisfaction that the old footman must be a humorist, and had diverted himself by making a kind of April-fool out of season of me, when, through the trees, which at that spot stretched their huge branches across the road so as to form a complete arch, I fancied I perceived the flutter of a woman's dress; and, in another moment, a turn in the drive disclosed to my view a female form, which I instantly recognised as that of Clara Saville.

Without a minute's hesitation I sprang to the ground before Lawless had time to pull up, and, saying to him, ”I shall be back again directly; wait for me, there's a good fellow,” I hastily entered a winding path, which led through the trees to the spot where I had seen the young lady, leaving my companion mute from astonishment. Up to this moment, acting solely from a sort of instinctive impulse which made me wish to see and speak to Miss Saville, I had never considered the light in which my proceedings might appear to her. What right, I now asked myself, had I to intrude upon her privacy, and, -151--as it were, force my company upon her, whether she wished it or not? Might she not look upon it as an impertinent intrusion? As these thoughts flitted through my brain I slackened my pace; and had it not been for very shame could have found in my heart to turn back again. This, however, I resolved not to do; having committed myself so far, I determined to give her an opportunity of seeing me, and, if she should show any intention of avoiding me, it would then be time enough to retrace my steps and leave her unmolested.

With this design I proceeded slowly up the path, stopping now and then as if to admire the view, until a turn of the walk brought me in sight of a rustic bench, on which was seated the young lady I had before observed. As soon as she perceived me she rose and turned towards me, disclosing, as she did so, the graceful form and lovely features of my partner of the preceding evening. The morning costume, including a most irresistible little cottage-bonnet lined with pink, was even more becoming to her than the ball-dress; and when, instead of the cold air of constraint which had characterised her manner of the previous evening, she advanced to meet me with a slight blush and the most bewitching smile of welcome that ever set man's heart beating, I thought I had never seen anything so perfectly beautiful before.

”I must ask your forgiveness for venturing thus to intrude upon you, Miss Saville,” began I, after we had exchanged salutations; ”but the temptation of learning from your own lips that you had sustained no injury was too strong to be resisted, more particularly after the disappointment of finding you were from home when I did myself the pleasure of calling on Mr. Vernor to inquire after you.”

”Nay, there is nothing to forgive,” replied Miss Saville; ”on the contrary,” she continued, blus.h.i.+ng slightly, ”I was anxious to see you, in order to thank you for the eminent service you rendered me yesterday evening.”

”Really it is not worth mentioning,” returned I; ”it is only what any other gentleman in the room would have done had he been in my situation; it was good Mrs. Trottle's shawl saved you; I could have done nothing without that.”

”You shall not cheat me out of my grat.i.tude in that way,” replied she, smiling; ”the shawl would have been of little avail had it not been so promptly and energetically applied; and, as for the other gentlemen, they -152--certainly were very ready with their offers of a.s.sistance _after_ the danger was over. I am afraid,” she continued, looking down, ”you must have repented the trouble you had taken when you found what a thankless person you had exerted yourself to save.”

”Indeed, no such idea crossed my mind for an instant; the slight service I was able to render you was quite repaid by the pleasure of knowing that I had been fortunate enough to prevent you from sustaining injury,”

said I.

”You are very kind,” was the reply; ”but I can a.s.sure you I have been exceedingly annoyed by imagining how wholly dest.i.tute of grat.i.tude you must have considered me!”

”Lucy Markham told me such would be the case,” replied I, smiling.

”Did she?--a dear warm-hearted girl--she always does me justice!”

exclaimed Miss Saville, as she raised her beautiful eyes, sparkling with animation, to my face. She then, for the first time, observed my injured arm, and added quickly, ”but you wear your arm in a sling; I hope--that is--I am afraid---I trust it was not injured last night!”

”It is a mere trifle,” replied I; ”he wristband of my sleeve caught fire, and burnt my arm, but it is nothing of any consequence, I can a.s.sure you.”

”I am sure you must have thought me sadly ungrateful,” returned my companion; ”you exerted yourself, and successfully, to save my life, receiving a painful injury in so doing, whilst I left the house without offering you the thanks due even to the commonest service imaginable.”

”You were not then aware that I had burnt my arm, remember; and forgive me for adding,” returned I (for I saw that she was really distressed at the idea of my considering her wanting in grat.i.tude), ”that it did not require any unusual degree of penetration to perceive that you were not altogether a free agent.”

”No, indeed,” replied she, eagerly catching at the idea, ”Mr. Vernor, my guardian--he always means to be very kind I am sure; but,” she added, sinking her voice, ”he is so very particular, and he speaks so sternly sometimes, that--I know it is very silly--but I cannot help feeling afraid of him. I mention this, sir, to prevent your judging me too harshly, and I trust to your generosity not to take any unfair advantage of my openness; and now,” she added, fixing her large eyes upon me with an imploring look which would have melted the toughest old anchorite -153--that ever chewed grey peas, ”you will not think me so very ungrateful, will you?”

”My dear Miss Saville,” replied I, ”let me beg you to believe I never dreamt of blaming you for a moment; on the contrary, I pay you no compliment, but only mention the simple truth, when I tell you that I admired your behaviour throughout the whole affair exceedingly; your presence of mind and self-control were greater than, under the circ.u.mstances, I could have supposed possible.” As she made no reply to this, but remained looking steadfastly on the ground, with her head turned so as to conceal her face, I continued--”I hope it is unnecessary for me to add, that you need not entertain the slightest fear of my making any indiscreet use of the frankness with which you have done me the honour of speaking to me--but I am forgetting half my business,”

added I, wis.h.i.+ng to set her at ease again, ”I am charged with all sorts of kind messages to you from good Mrs. Coleman and Miss Markham; I presume you would wish me to tell them I have had the pleasure of ascertaining that you have sustained no ill effects from your alarm.”

”Oh yes, by all means,” replied Miss Saville, looking up with a pleased expression, ”give my kind love to them both, and tell dear Lucy I shall come over to see her as soon as ever I can.”

”I will not intrude upon you longer, then, having delivered my message,”