ice, and he felt that he must obtain an answer from
her before they left Lucerne. If she still persisted in refusing to
give him her hand, it would not be consistent with his dignity as
a man to continue his immediate pursuit of her any longer. In such
case he must leave her, and see what future time might bring forth.
He believed himself to be aware that he would never offer his love
to another woman; and if Alice were to remain single, he might try
again, after the lapse of a year or two. But if he failed now,--then,
for that year or two, he would see her no more. Having so resolved,
and being averse to anything like a surprise, he asked her, as
he left her one evening, whether she would walk with him on the
following morning. That morning would be the morning of her last day
at Lucerne; and as she assented she knew well what was to come. She
said nothing to Lady Glencora on the subject, but allowed the coming
prospects of the Palliser family to form the sole subject of their
conversation that night, as it had done on every night since the
great news had become known. They were always together for an hour
every evening before Alice was allowed to go to bed, and during
this hour the anxieties of the future father and mother were always
discussed till Alice Vavasor was almost tired of them. But she was
patient with her friend, and on this special night she was patient
as ever. But when she was released and was alone, she made a great
endeavour to come to some fixed resolution as to what she would do on
the morrow,--some resolution which should be absolutely resolute, and
from which no eloquence on the part of any one should move her. But
such resolutions are not easily reached, and Alice laboured through
half the night almost in vain. She knew that she loved the man. She
knew that he was as true to her as the sun is true to the earth. She
knew that she would be, in all respects, safe in his hands. She knew
that Lady Glencora would be delighted, and her father gratified. She
knew that the countesses would open their arms to her,--though I
doubt whether this knowledge was in itself very persuasive. She knew
that by such a marriage she would gain all that women generally look
to gain when they give themselves away. But, nevertheless, as far as
she could decide at all, she decided against her lover. She had no
right of her own to be taken back after the evil that she had done,
and she did not choose to be taken back as an ob