red he, "of the guardianship of her
child?"
"No. But as the sum allowed for the maintenance is also to cease from
the day of her nuptials, and the money to accumulate until he is of age,
she would, by marrying a poor man, do irreparable injury to her son, by
cramping his education. It is a grievous restraint."
He made no answer. And after two or three attempts at conversation,
which his mind was too completely pre-occupied to sustain, he bade us
good-night, and returned to the Court. The next morning we heard that
he had left Upton and gone, they said, to Oxford. And I could not help
hoping that he had seen his danger, and would not return until the peril
was past.
I was mistaken. In two or three days he returned, exhibiting less
self-command than I had been led to anticipate. The fair lady, too, I
took occasion to remind of this terrible will, in hopes, since he would
not go, that she would have had the wisdom to have taken her departure.
No such thing; neither party would move a jot I might as well have
bestowed my counsel upon the two stone figures on the great gateway. And
heartily sorry, and a little angry, I resolved to let matters take their
own course.
Several weeks passed on, when one morning she came to me in the sweetest
confusion, the loveliest mixture of bashfulness and joy.
"He loves me!" she said; "he has told me that he loves me!"
"Well?"
"And I have referred him to you. That clause----"
"He already knows it." And then I told her, word for word, what had
passed.
"He knows of that clause, and he still wishes to marry me! He loves
me for myself! Loves me, knowing me to be a beggar! It is true, pure,
disinterested affection!"
"Beyond all doubt it is. And if you could live upon true love----"
"Oh, but where _that_ exists, and youth, and health, and strength, and
education, may we not be well content to try to earn a living together?
think of the happiness comprised in that word! I could give
lessons;--I am sure that I could. I would teach music, and drawing,
and dancing--anything for him! or we could keep a school here at
Upton--anywhere with him!"
"And I am to tell him this?"
"Not the words!" replied she, blushing like a rose at her own
earnestness; "not those words!"
Of course, it was not very long before M. le Comte made his appearance.
"God bless her, noble, generous creature!" cried he, when I had
fulfilled my commission. "God for ever bless her!"
"And you intend, t
|