feet-marks upon the gravel, he thought, might very
naturally have been produced by the servants in their first search;
and it was not at all improbable that some one of them, thinking that
his young mistress had fallen into the water, might have placed his
foot upon the gunwale of the barge to lean forward for a clearer view
of the river under the terrace.
As he thought of all these things, and tortured his heart with
apprehensions, the conviction came upon the mind of Wilton, that,
notwithstanding every difference of station, and the utter
hopelessness of love in his case, Laura had become far, far dearer to
him than any other being upon earth; had produced in his bosom
sensations such as he had never known before; sensations which were
first discovered fully in that hour of pain and anxiety, and which,
alas! promised but anguish and disappointment for the years to come.
There was, nevertheless, something fascinating in the conviction,
which, once admitted, he would not willingly have parted with; and it
gradually led his thoughts to what Lord Sherbrooke had told him
concerning his own fate and family. That information, indeed, brought
him but little hope in the present case, though we should speak
falsely were we to assert that it brought him no hope. The gleam was
faint, and doubting that it would last, he tried voluntarily to
extinguish it in his own heart. He called to mind how many there
were, whose families, engaged in the late troubles during the reigns
of Charles and James, had never been able to raise themselves again,
but had sunk into obscurity, and died in poverty and exile. He
recollected how many of them and of their children had been driven to
betake themselves to the lowest, and even the most criminal courses;
and he bethought him, that if he were the child of any of these, he
might think himself but too fortunate in having obtained an inferior
station which gave him competence at least. The cloud might never be
cleared away from his fate; and he recollected, that even if it were
so, there was but little if any chance of his obtaining, with every
advantage, that which he had learned to desire even without hope. He
knew that the Duke was a proud man, proud of his family, proud of his
wealth, proud of his daughter, proud of his rank, and that he had
judged it even a very great condescension to consent to a marriage
between his daughter and the son of the Earl of Byerdale, a nobleman
of immense wealth, vast influence, most ancient family,