Chapter 14

A fortnight had elapsed subsequent to the festivity recorded in the preceding chapter, when, late one afternoon, Arthur,--who had been engaged from early morning in a distant part of the city, transacting some business of importance,--as he returned, passing by Mr. Denham's dwelling, suddenly came in contact with Mr. Clifford, who, with a quick, eager step, and a countenance all aglow with some pleasurable emotion, was hurrying on, so absorbed in his own thoughts, that he was only arrested by the sound of his friend's voice.

"You seem to be in a great hurry, Clifford," said Arthur smiling, though it must be confessed his heart felt little attuned to mirth; "and, judging from the expression of your countenance, combined with your unusual absent-mindedness, something more than usual must have occurred, and that of a very pleasurable nature, to have thus excited you."

"You have made a capital guess of it, Arthur. I have been putting forth every energy of late to win a priceless treasure, and after a desperate effort, have succeeded. Is not that a subject for congratulation?"

"At last, at last, she is won," inwardly murmured poor Arthur, while his whole frame seemed convulsed, but controlling himself, as he observed his companion's glance fixed eagerly upon him, he replied, in a tone which, in spite of his efforts, sounded cold and somewhat ungracious.

"I shall be a better judge of that, Clifford, when I know what the nature of the prize, and whether it was valuable enough to warrant the efforts put forth to obtain it."

"=Valuable=, there is no boon on earth to be compared to it. I might exhaust comparisons in vain to furnish a fit simile; for, in it, is combined all that is lovely, virtuous and excellent. To descend, however, from parable, in order to enlighten you, allow me to say," and a slight flush mounted to the speaker's face, while his companion's cheek grew ashy pale, "that I have been so truly fortunate as to secure a place in the affections of a woman, to my mind, the loveliest of her sex. But, happy as I am in obtaining such an avowal, there is one drawback to my felicity; her consent must be ratified, so she affirms, by a beloved relative, before I am to consider it binding. And I--do you know, Arthur--I never dreamed I was a coward until now; but it seems such presumption in me to expect a man to part with a flower that he has tenderly nurtured and cherished, that it may adorn with its beauty and grace another homestead, far removed, perhaps, from the eyes that delighted to watch its expanding charms."

"This suspense is intolerable," murmured Arthur Bernard to himself, while in blissful unconsciousness his companion went on. "Why does he not speak her name out clearly, and put an end to this torture, which racks every nerve of my frame?"

"And now, Arthur, I want your advice. Woman-hater as you are,"--Clifford said with a smile.

"I suppose Agnes told him that, she thought so herself, no doubt," was Arthur's mental parenthesis.

"Woman-hater as you are, I know you deem my hopes and fears as both unfounded; but, never mind, you will, I trust, know by experience some day or other, so, in consideration of that coming, happy time, will you inform me in what terms I can possibly have the presumption, to request of the lady's relative, that he graciously permit her to bestow her hand upon your humble servant?"

"I do not foresee any difficulty," said Arthur, with a tremulous effort at composure. "The lady's consent once secured, I should think all others of comparatively little moment, and with the knowledge that her happiness depends on their sanction, it will, I believe, be readily accorded."

"How happy you make me, my dear fellow, though you did deliver that speech, as though you were negotiating some bank business. And so, you would advise me to put a bold face on the matter, and say to them, 'she is mine, and I will have her.'"

"If that form of expression suits you best, use it, by all means; I have no objection."

"Then I shall act upon your advice immediately, Arthur Bernard," and the voice at once became deeply solemn and earnest. "Are you willing to resign to my fondest, my tenderest care, your only and beloved sister Ella, to whom I am aware you are so deeply attached, and who returns your affection with all the warmth of her loving nature."

Arthur Bernard, could not reply. He was bewildered, stunned, at the intelligence. From the very depth and agony of despair, to be raised to the very summit of hope, was almost too much for poor human nature to bear. His friend observed his emotion, but attributed it to a very different cause, and his countenance, so joyous a moment before, clouded instantly.

"I see," he said, in a low and mournful tone, "that this does not meet your wishes, nor can I wonder at it, for I feel I am not worthy of so precious a gift, except for the intense love I bear her,--a love which, I trust, if permitted, shall be manifested in every action of my future life."

"Not meet my wishes! You have totally mistaken me, my friend, my brother, as I would now joyfully call you," pressing fervently his companion's hand as he spoke; "you are worthy of my darling Ella, my beloved sister, and there is none other, to whom I could yield her less reluctantly than yourself. With a brother's blessing I commit her to you, and as she has been to me the most faithful and affectionate of sisters, so, I am sure, you will find her the truest and most devoted of wives."

There was a pause. Both the gentlemen were affected, and they continued their walk, which had been extended to a solitary part of the city's suburbs, for some time in silence, which Ernest was the first to break.

"I cannot thank you in words; they are too poor to express how I estimate this frank and generous consent; my actions will, I trust, show how truly I appreciate it. Forgive me, Arthur, for my unjust suspicions, but I imagined when I commenced the conversation, that you suspected the nature of my embassy, and by cold looks and words strove to divert me from speaking in plainer terms, and forcing you to a denial of my request."

Arthur was slightly embarrassed, and his companion looked at him, wondering what could thus discompose his usually sedate friend.

"The truth is," he said after a pause, "that I totally misunderstood you, so you see there has been a mutual mistake. I have been blind, indeed, but I had not the slightest idea that you entertained any feeling but friendship for Ella."

"And pray, then, if you will permit me to inquire," and there was something mischievous in the speaker's glance and tone, "to whom did you imagine I alluded, when I informed you that, woman, dear woman, was the prize so much coveted?"

"Well, I did think," and the speaker's hesitancy was not by any means unobserved by his friend, "for report affirmed, that Miss Wiltshire was the lady to whom you intended to vow life-long allegiance."

"And so you supposed I had come to make a confidant of =you=. I wonder you did not knock me down for my presumption, in expecting to eclipse you in her eyes. No, no, my dear Sir, I was not such a simpleton, for had I entertained hopes of that kind before, the joy which lighted up her fine eyes, and glowed on her countenance, on that eventful meeting with you on her return, combined, how often, with subsequent similar observation, would have been quite sufficient proof to me that my expectations were 'baseless as the fabric of a vision.'"

Arthur smiled and shook his head, though the subject was by no means an unpleasing one, at least judging from his animated countenance, and the rapt attention which he paid to every word.

"But who, may I ask, Ernest, was your informant as to my claims to the title of 'woman-hater?'"

"Not Miss Wiltshire, I can credibly affirm. More than that I do not think it is fair to tell you."

"Well, well, I am perfectly satisfied, and now I think it is time for us to retrace our steps in the direction of home."