I could scarcely control myself sufficiently to read the letter; but I obeyed mechanically. This letter contained a few words of serious advice, breathing nothing but words of paternal love; though I read between the lines that it had cost him a struggle after her confession to regain this kind of calm affection for her. He had left with Cupid’s arrow in his heart. The letter concluded with the most ardent wishes for her happiness; and he expressed a hope she would one day find a husband worthy of her, begging her to accept as a marriage portion the legacy he had left her by his will. Finally, he said, she must allow no considerations whatever, especially money considerations, to induce her to marry a man whom she did not love with all her heart.
The family name with which this letter was signed is one of the most illustrious in the scientific as well as in the political world.
There was also a second letter from the nephew and heir to Lord William’s title and immense fortune. He assured Francis of his intentions scrupulously to fulfil the last will of the deceased. Francis was to receive from the estates an annuity of three thousand pounds for the term of her natural life.
“Ought I to accept it, Leopold?” she demanded.
“My opinion is you cannot refuse it, Francis. Your greatest desire has always been to have an independence; and here it is offered you by the hand of a friend.”
“You are right, Leopold; I shall follow your advice and accept it. Now I shall not be forced to marry any one; and if I should choose a husband, he cannot suspect me of having done so for the sake of his money. Shall I be rich enough to buy back the Werve?”
“No, Francis; the Werve is in the possession of one who will not sell it for money. If you still desire to become Baroness de Werve, you must take another resolution.”
“Leopold,” she said, rising, “you say that independence has always been my chief desire. It is possible; but now I understand that my greatest happiness is to be dependent on the man I love. Leo, Aunt Roselaer has left me an annuity which I decline to accept, as a matter of course; but her intentions towards me were kindly, and I will follow her advice. She has forbidden me to marry without your consent.”
Then with an indefinable mixture of grace, confusion, and malice, she sank down on her knees before me, and said—
“Leo, I wish to marry my Cousin van Zonshoven; have you any objections?”