“‘I was married one year before your father, and though I have no children, I might have had a daughter of your age. I had accustomed myself, gradually, to regard you as my own daughter; you deprive me of this pleasure, for the present at least, though I am sure you will one day recover from your folly. It is your head which is affected, not your heart, believe me, for I have had experience in the depths of abasement to which the passions may lead a woman who has not energy enough to overcome them. If I had a son—I have only a nephew, who will be heir to my title and property—and if——”
“‘Thank you, my lord, I could never address you as my uncle!’ and I burst out in an hysterical laugh. There was a beautiful edition of Shakespeare lying on the table, a present from him; I took it up and tore it leaf from leaf, scattering them about the room. At the same instant my maid knocked at the door; she came to remind me it was time to dress for the ball. We had accepted invitations for this evening to the house of a banker, one of the most prominent men in our province. My pride having been touched to the quick, I determined to seek solace in the wildest excitement. I flirted with the only son of this banker, who all through the winter had been very attentive to me. I felt much pleasure in showing Lord William how easily I could forget him; but my eyes were all the while furtively following him to see the effect my conduct might produce. He remained calm and cool as ever. After a while he seated himself at the card-table, and lost a considerable sum of money to my grandfather. On the morrow, I perceived preparations were being made for his departure in all haste. Lord William had received the letters he had so long expected, and seemed to have no time to notice me. I became transported with passion, when my father told me at luncheon that the banker’s son had asked permission to wait upon me in the course of the afternoon. You can understand my rage. ‘What a falling-off was there!’—from Lord William to a Charles Felters!
“I answered my father that I would not speak to the simpleton.
“‘You must!’ he replied, in a tone of authority I was little accustomed to in Sir John. ‘You have given the young man encouragement, and you had better reflect on the consequences of refusing such a good offer.’”
Chapter XXV.
“Poor Charles Felters was quite thunderstruck at the reception I gave him. His gay partner of last evening’s dance had changed into a veritable fury. I told him plainly I didn’t care a jot for him. He hesitated, he stammered, and couldn’t make up his mind to go. I was expecting Lord William every moment to take leave of me, and I would not have them meet. In my confusion my eyes rested on a ‘trophy of arms’ with which my father had decorated one side of the room. Scarcely knowing what I was about, I seized a foil, handed it to my would-be lover, and taking another myself, I took up my position on guard, exclaiming—
“‘The man who wins my love shall win it with the sword.’
“The miserable ninny never even observed that the foils were buttoned, but, throwing down his, rushed out of the room in the greatest alarm.”
“I have heard of this feat of arms, Francis,” I said, laughing; “and, moreover, that Felters is still running away from you.”