"I see that we have been carried away by Schiller's beautiful poetry even to the forgetting that mamma and Marie have preceded us by some minutes towards home. Pray let us make haste to overtake them," answered Flora, blushing more than ever, and moving away. Mr. Earnscliffe was at her side in a moment, and said, "Yes, we will follow them, but as we go you must hear me, Miss Adair. I can wait no longer to have my fate decided. Over each hill and through each dale of this lovely land have I wandered before, but never until now have I felt its beauty to the full; never until now have I known—to use your own poet's words—the 'soft magic' of having one, the beloved of my heart near me,
'To make every dear scene of enchantment more dear,'
Flora, will you hear me?"
She made a slight motion of assent, but did not look up, and he continued, "Yet I must not ask you for an answer until I have given you—though painful be the task—a short sketch of my life, so that you may know me as I really am before you decide for or against me, and also that hereafter none may have the power to tell you aught of my earlier days that you have not already heard from my own lips.... Left an orphan, whilst still almost a baby, I was consigned to the guardianship of an uncle, and most honourably did he fulfil the trust; but I could no more love that imperturbable, just man, who was coldly kind upon principle, than fire and water could blend. He was not married, so I had no aunt or cousins to whom I could attach myself, and it was a joy rather than a grief to me that I was sent to school when very young. I applied with unusual ardour to study, and gloried in the power which I possessed of being first among my companions, and in my facility for mastering foreign tongues.... I lived among the ancients—those master spirits of old who by their nobility of soul rose above the debasing vice of their age, and stood forth as bright examples of the great power of man's own mind and will unaided and unrestrained by the fetters of modern society or Christianity. Thus I passed from a studious, dreamy youth, to man's estate. I was ardent and enthusiastic, full of glowing ideals of moral beauty and excellence, and, with all the prestige of high birth and wealth to assure me a favourable reception from the world, I was launched into the vortex of London life. I tasted of all its pleasures; I was courted and sought after; yet by most people I was looked upon as being
'Among them, but not of them; in a shroud
Of thoughts which were not their thoughts.'
But what cared they for that? I was rich and successful, and was, therefore, to be flattered. At Lady M——'s ball—"... he paused, covered his eyes with his hand as if to shut out the stinging memories which now thronged before them; he mastered himself and went on, ... "Pardon me, even now I cannot recall that time without a shudder, and only dare to pass cursorily over its events.... Well, as I said, at Lady M——'s ball I saw one who then appeared to me to be beautiful, and was introduced to her; I was completely captivated. I imagined—ah, now I know, 'twas only imagination—that I loved her with a deep, true passion. I won her,—but scarcely had I time to congratulate myself on my conquest when I discovered—oh, that I should have to tell it!—that I had been deceived, betrayed by her; that she had accepted me only for my wealth and position, whilst her love was another's. To resolve to separate from her for ever was a moment's work, and I confided to the care of my lawyers all the necessary arrangements, and left England, to escape at least from the scene of my misery, and the rankling consciousness that men were laughing at the proud exalté Earnscliffe, who had been caught by the light beauty; then I awoke from the dream of careless enjoyment in which I had been living.... The face of nature in its calm repose seemed to mock at my wretchedness. Everything gave testimony of a creative power; but of justice, of love, in that dread power, I could see no trace.... I had not asked for life; I had done nothing knowingly to merit the curse which had fallen upon me. Why then was I subjected to a betrayal which blighted my every hope, dried up all the sources of happiness from which I used to drink?—for my belief in truth and goodness had been shattered.... I asked for what had I been created? Why doomed to bear unasked-for existence?... I sought eagerly for comfort in religion, but I could find none. What consolation could any man's interpretation of Scripture give me, since everything they said was vague and varying? I longed for some universal certainty—something upon which to lean with one's whole weight, but nowhere could I find it; the more I sought, the more incomprehensible did everything appear to me, seeing all around as Lamartine says, 'evil where good might be.'—At last with wearied brain and aching heart I gave up the search. To end my life seemed to me to be a cowardly thing; to plunge into dissipation, as Byron did, beneath me; so I resolved to be henceforth self-sufficing; noble and true, because such qualities alone make man great; but trusting in none, believing in nothing, and above all, not in a woman.... Such has been my life for the last ten years. But a few months ago there came a break in its terrible monotony—I met you! Accustomed as I was to be flattered and fawned upon by young ladies as a good match, your severe remark upon what I said to Mrs. Elton at Frascati made me almost start with surprise, and during the time when I considered myself bound to visit you and try to relieve the wearisomeness of your imprisonment, I studied you as something new—unknown before. I became interested in the study, nevertheless I would not admit to myself the possibility that I could be attracted by a woman. I persuaded myself that I merely felt a curiosity about you; then I fancied that I had discovered you to be just like the rest of your sex, heartless and false, and, in spite of all my theories about not caring for you, I mourned over the supposed discovery. But a light was suddenly thrown upon your conduct, and you came out brighter than ever from under the cloud.... I followed you on chance to Venice; I watched you closely day after day in your family circle; I saw how little the ordinary bagatelles and vanities which sum up the existence of most women occupied you, and I felt drawn towards you as to a kindred spirit; yet I dreaded to trust a woman again, and I struggled hard indeed before I yielded to the charm of loving you. But resistance was useless; the more I tried to think of you as of others whom I had known, the more I found you different, and at last I gave up the struggle. Now I am yours wholly and entirely. Refuse not then to receive the poor shipwrecked traveller, who, having confessed to you all his faults and misfortunes, clings to you as his last anchor of hope on earth.... Flora do not hesitate—speak."... He caught her hand and pressed it tightly in his own.
The rush of wild delight, which thrilled through every portion of Flora's being at having thus offered to her a happiness so intense that she had not dared to expect it, was so great, that for a moment it deprived her of utterance; but raising her glistening eyes to his, she gave him such a smile that he asked for no words to interpret its meaning, and drawing the already imprisoned hand within his arm, he held it there clasped to his heart, as he exclaimed—
"My Flora! this moment repays, nay, overpays me for all that I have suffered!... But why do you tremble? Are you afraid of me? Have you not faith in me?"
It cost Flora an effort to speak—to shake off the exquisite emotion which the warm clasp of his hand caused her to feel; but surely any lover would have thought it an answer worth waiting for when at length she said—