“‘True, but I can assure you it is greatly against my will; there is too much gaiety there, and as father has extensive acquaintance and relations, it throws me into much bustle and distraction I would willingly avoid. I love quietness and rusticity.’
“‘You were always timid, Clare. I have known you long now, and think you are unnecessarily so; you are the only one at home now; your father doats upon you, and, with all due respect, let me add, there are few who are greater favourites with all, or who has had so many in supplication at your feet.’
“‘You flatter me. I have never given any one reason to think that I ever encouraged their addresses, but, on the contrary, have ever taken the earliest opportunity to dispossess them of any such idea, when it became apparent. A coquette is abominable; one cannot have two hearts, and when that is already dedicated, all is staked.’
“Visitors called, and this conversation ceased. Lady Bray was busy in welcoming them. Clare was superintending the household; and, left to his own thoughts, Lawrence mused long, walking up and down the garden walks thinking of the future.
“Some twenty persons sat down to supper, and during the meal a horse was heard galloping up the drive; the bell rang, and a note was handed to Miss Clare, which, being read, was passed to her father. It was an invitation from Lord Stoner to a ball for all then present, which each one willingly accepted, as Lord Stoner’s mansion was but a short distance away.
“Clare did not go at the moment, and, as Lawrence was to escort her, she preferred the cool of evening and the lonely forest path with its birds and flowers to the heat and dust of the circuitous road.
“Lawrence paced the cool stone entrance hall, and Clare soon tripped lightly down from her room with her hat hanging on her arm. She had changed her customary silk tissue for a dark blue silk, and her mass of jet black hair, looped up by simple white and blush roses, was in striking contrast to her large sparkling eyes and pallid face. Her maid followed with a Cashmere shawl, which Lawrence insisted on placing on her shoulders, which unexpected piece of gallantry and attention brought crimson to her cheeks.
“‘Well, then, now I am ready, and sorry for keeping you so long, Edward. Mollie, bring my cloak with you.’
“Arm in arm they sallied forth through the orchard and across the fields, until they reached the wood, and as they walked through its shade, the perfume of flowers and song of birds were consonant with the thoughts and feelings of both.
“‘This is a very familiar walk to me, Clare; I often come hunting here in the winter when you are away in France; there are plenty of rabbits and pheasants; the corn-fields abound in partridge; and, altogether, it affords fine sport.’