“What can it be?”
“Your brother has asked me to be his wife.”
“Silverbridge!”
“Yes;—Lord Silverbridge. You are astonished.”
Lady Mary was very much astonished—so much astonished that words escaped from her, which she regretted afterwards. “I thought there was someone else.”
“Who else?”
“Lady Mabel Grex. But I know nothing.”
“I think not,” said Miss Boncassen slowly. “I have seen them together and I think not. There might be somebody, though I think not her. But why do I say that? Why do I malign him, and make so little of myself? There is no one else, Lady Mary. Is he not true?”
“I think he is true.”
“I am sure he is true. And he has asked me to be his wife.”
“What did you say?”
“Well;—what do you think? What is it probable that such a girl as I would say when such a man as your brother asks her to be his wife? Is he not such a man as a girl would love?”
“Oh yes.”
“Is he not handsome as a god?” Mary stared at her with all her eyes. “And sweeter than any god those pagan races knew? And is he not good-tempered, and loving; and has he not that perfection of manly dash without which I do not think I could give my heart to any man?”
“Then you have accepted him?”
“And his rank and his wealth! The highest position in all the world in my eyes.”
“I do not think you should take him for that.”
“Does it not all help? Can you put yourself in my place? Why should I refuse him? No, not for that. I would not take him for that. But if I love him—because he is all that my imagination tells me that a man ought to be;—if to be his wife seems to me to be the greatest bliss that could happen to a woman; if I feel that I could die to serve him, that I could live to worship him, that his touch would be sweet to me, his voice music, his strength the only support in the world on which I would care to lean—what then?”
“Is it so?”
“Yes, it is so. It is after that fashion that I love him. He is my hero;—and not the less so because there is none higher than he among the nobles of the greatest land under the sun. Would you have me for a sister?” Lady Mary could not answer all at once. She had to think of her father;—and then she thought of her own lover. Why should not Silverbridge be as well entitled to his choice as she considered herself to be? And yet how would it be with her father? Silverbridge would in process of time be the head of the family. Would it be proper that he should marry an American?
“You would not like me for a sister?”
“I was thinking of my father. For myself I like you.”
“Shall I tell you what I said to him?”
“If you will.”
“I told him that he must ask his friends;—that I would not be his wife to be rejected by them all. Nor will I. Though it be heaven I will not creep there through a hole. If I cannot go in with my head upright, I will not go even there.” Then she turned round as though she were prepared in her emotion to walk back to the house alone. But Lady Mary ran after her, and having caught her, put her arm round her waist and kissed her.
“I at any rate will love you,” said Lady Mary.
“I will do as I have said,” continued Miss Boncassen. “I will do as I have said. Though I love your brother down to the ground he shall not marry me without his father’s consent.” Then they returned arm-in-arm close together; but very little more was said between them.
When Lady Mary entered the house she was told that Lady Cantrip wished to see her in her own room.
XLVIII
The Party at Custins Is Broken Up
The message was given to Lady Mary after so solemn a fashion that she was sure some important communication was to be made to her. Her mind at that moment had been filled with her new friend’s story. She felt that she required some time to meditate before she could determine what she herself would wish; but when she was going to her own room, in order that she might think it over, she was summoned to Lady Cantrip. “My dear,” said the Countess, “I wish you to do something to oblige me.”
“Of course I will.”
“Lord Popplecourt wants to speak to you.”
“Who?”
“Lord Popplecourt.”
“What can Lord Popplecourt have to say to me?”
“Can you not guess? Lord Popplecourt is a young nobleman, standing very high in the world, possessed of ample means, just in that position in which it behoves such a man to look about for a wife.” Lady Mary pressed her lips together, and clenched her two hands. “Can you not imagine what such a gentleman may have to say?” Then there was a pause, but she made no immediate answer. “I am to tell you, my dear, that your father would approve of it.”
“Approve of what?”
“He approves of Lord Popplecourt as a suitor for your hand.”
“How can he?”
“Why not, Mary? Of course he has made it his business to ascertain all particulars as to Lord Popplecourt’s character and property.”
“Papa knows that I love somebody else.”
“My dear Mary, that is all vanity.”
“I don’t think that papa can want to see me married to a man when he knows that with all my heart and soul—”
“Oh Mary!”
“When he knows,” continued Mary, who would not be put down, “that I love another man with all my heart. What will Lord Popplecourt say if I tell him that? If he says anything to me, I shall tell him. Lord Popplecourt! He
