"Do you love me, Enid? Tell me, darling—'Yes' or 'No'?"
And at last she answered very softly—
"I love you, Maurice, with all my heart and soul!"
CHAPTER XLV.
Maurice Evandale was obliged to go to Beechfield that evening; but, before he went, he explained his position more fully to Miss Vane than he had thought it necessary to do with Enid. His father had left him an ample income; he had no near relatives, and was able to look forward with confidence to giving Enid a comfortable home. He wanted to marry her as soon as possible; but, as Miss Vane pointed out to him, there was no use in being in too great a hurry, for many things would have to be settled before Enid's hand could be given in marriage. She herself had always meant to leave Enid a fair share of her own wealth, and she announced her intention of settling a considerable sum upon her at once. If the General would do the same thing, Enid would be a bride with a goodly dower. But Miss Vane was a little inclined to think that her brother would be angry with the girl for leaving his house, and that he might be difficult to manage. Mr. Evandale must be guided by circumstances—so she said to him; and, if Dick was ill, and the General anxious and out of temper, he had better defer his proposal for a week or two. She promised that she would do her best to help him; and he knew that he might rely on Enid's assurance of her love.
Accordingly he went back to Beechfield; and Enid was left at Miss Vane's, there to gain strength of mind and body in the pleasant peaceable atmosphere of her house.
Miss Vane did not give many parties or go much into society about this time. With those whom she really loved she was always at her best; and many of her associates would have been thoroughly astonished to see how tender, how loving this worldly, cynical old woman, as they thought her, could show herself to a girl like Enid Vane. She gave up many engagements for Enid's sake, and lived quietly and as best suited her young visitor. For Enid, although rapidly recovering, was not yet strong enough to bear the excitement of London gaieties. Besides, Dick was reported to be very ill, and during his illness Enid could not have borne to go out to theatres and balls.
The General had been driving to the station when the accident took place. The horse had taken fright and grown unmanageable; the phaeton had been nearly dashed to pieces; and Dick, who had been on the box beside his father, had had a terrible fall. He had never spoken or been conscious since; he lingered on from day to day in a state of complete insensibility; and while he was in that state the General would not leave him. Of Flossy nobody heard a word. The General wrote to his sister, and sent kind messages to Enid, but did not mention Flossy. Aunt Leo and Enid both wondered why.
Enid had been in town nearly a week, when one morning a letter was brought to her at the sight of which she colored deeply. She was sitting at the luncheon-table with her aunt, and for a few minutes she left the letter beside her plate unopened.