“‘Has Sir John only just told you that? and why to-day above all others?’
“‘Sir John has told me nothing; I have heard it by accident. By accident, you understand, my lord, and now I think I have the right to hear from your own lips more particulars about your wife.’
“He drew back some paces; his features became so contracted under an expression of violent suffering that I myself was afraid. For a time he was silent, pacing up and down the room; and finally he said to me, with a mingling of sadness and discontent—
“‘I am sorry, Francis, but I did not think the time had arrived when I could give you such a mark of confidence. There is too much of bitterness in your tone for me to suppose your question arises out of an interest in my sorrows, and only those who have such an interest have a claim to my explanations. Is it a young girl like you that I should choose out by preference, in whom to confide the sad secrets of my unhappy marriage? And how could I begin to speak about a subject on the termination of which I am still in doubt?’
“‘And it never occurred to you, my lord, that there might be a danger in leaving me ignorant of your marriage?’
“‘No, certainly not. I came here to divert my thoughts from my troubles, and to seek solace—which I have found—in my favourite studies. I made your acquaintance in the house of your father, who received me hospitably; and I thought I perceived your education had been neglected, nay, that even a false turn had been given to your ideas. This I have tried to remedy and I must acknowledge you have gratefully appreciated and seconded my efforts; but it does not follow that I ought to acquaint you with all my personal affairs and all my griefs and troubles. I fled from England to escape the condolence of my friends and the raillery of my adversaries. I wished to avoid a lawsuit in which my name—a name of some renown in England—would have been exposed to the comments of a public ever hungering after scandal. Could I have talked to you on such a subject? It would have cast a gloom over the golden dreams of your youth, and rendered the autumn of my life still more cloudy!’
“‘The clouds surrounding you, my lord, must be pretty thick already,’ I replied, exasperated by his cool manner, ‘to prevent your seeing that my ignorance of your marriage has caused me to embark on a sea of illusions, where in the spring-time of life I shall suffer shipwreck.’
“A movement of fright escaped him. I broke forth in complaints and reproaches; he fell back on a divan and covered his face with his hands. He protested he had never guessed at such an idea, never even suspected anything of the sort. Afterwards, when I had eased my mind and was sitting sobbing before him, he recovered himself, and coming over to me he said, in his usual calm and affectionate tone—
“‘My child, there is much exaggeration in all you have told me. Your imagination has been struck, and you have suffered it to carry you away, so that you believe all you say now; but I can assure you, you are mistaken. You are impressionable, susceptible, but too young to understand the real passion of love. At your age, young girls have very often some little love affair with the engaging young dancer they met at the last ball. You, who have been kept out of society on account of the masculine education you had received, have known no such temptations; but perhaps for this very reason you were the more exposed to illusions of another kind, which I confess I ought to have foreseen, namely, that of falling in love with the first gentleman who showed you more than the usual attentions of common civility. I happen to be this man. We have read several plays of Shakespeare together. Every young girl may imagine herself a Juliet; but that is no reason why she should imagine her teacher to be a Romeo. Now, seriously, Francis, could you take me for your Romeo? Look at me, and consider how ridiculous any such pretension on my part would be. I am about the same age as your father; I am turning gray; I should also be as stout, but for a disease which threatens me with consumption. All this is far from poetic, is it not? Exercise your reason, your good sense, and you will be the first to acknowledge that I am most unfitted to become the hero of a love affair.’
“I was silent; I felt as if some one were pouring ice down my back. He approached me, and laying his hand on my shoulder, with the greatest gentleness said—