nt; and there were vague
hopes of high destinies in his heart. But it must be acknowledged,
that if there had been none, he would have given way, even as he did.
He advanced towards her, he took her hand in his, he pressed it
between both his own, he kissed it tenderly, passionately, and more
than once. Lady Laura lifted up her eyes to his face, not blushing,
but very pale.
"Oh, Wilton," she said, "what do I not owe you!" and she burst into
tears. The words, the look, the very tears themselves, were all more
than sufficient encouragement.
"You owe me nothing, Laura," Wilton said. "Would to God that I had
such an opportunity of serving you as to make me forgive in myself
the rash, the wild, the foolish feelings that, in spite of every
struggle and every effort, have grown up in my heart towards you, and
have taken possession of me altogether. But, oh, Laura, I cannot hope
that you will forgive them, I cannot forgive them myself. They can--I
know they can, only produce anguish and sorrow to myself, and excite
anger, perhaps indignation, in you."
"Oh no, no, no, Wilton!" she cried, eagerly, "not that, not that!
neither anger, nor indignation, nor anything like it, but grief--and
yet not grief either--oh no, not grief!--Some apprehension, perhaps,
some anxiety both for your happiness and my own. But if you do feel
all you say, as I believe and am sure you do, such feelings, so far
as depends upon me, should produce you no anguish and no pain; but I
must not conceal from you that I very much fear, my father would
never--"
An increasing noise at the door of the house broke in upon what Laura
was saying. There were cries, and loud tongues, and vociferations of
many kinds; among which, one voice was heard, exclaiming, "Go round
to the back door!"
Another person, apparently just under the window, shouted, "I am very
sure that was not the man!" and then added, "Bring out my horse,
however, bring out my horse! I'll catch them, and raise the hue and
cry as I go!"
At the same time there were other voices speaking in the passage, and
one loud sonorous tongue exclaiming, "Ali, Master Wicks, Master
Wicks! I thought you would get yourself into a scrape one of these
days, Master Wicks;" to which the low deep voice of the landlord was
heard, replying--
"I have got myself into no scrape, your reverence. I don't know what
you mean or what you wait.--Search? You may search any part of the
house you like. I don't care! If there were twenty people here, I
have nothing t