‘It is difficult for me to tell his cousin what I should like to say in answer to this remark.’
‘Oh, have no embarrassment on that score. There are very few people less trammelled by the ties of relationship than we are. Speak out, and if you want to say anything particularly severe, have no fears of wounding my susceptibilities.’
‘And do you know, Lady Maude,’ said he, in a voice of almost confidential meaning, ‘this was the very thing I was dreading? I had at one time a good deal of Walpole’s intimacy—I’ll not call it friendship, for somehow there were certain differences of temperament that separated us continually. We could commonly agree upon the same things; we could never be one-minded about the same people. In my experiences, the world is by no means the cold-hearted and selfish thing he deems it; and yet I suppose, Lady Maude, if there were to be a verdict given upon us both, nine out of ten would have fixed on me as the scoffer. Is not this so?’
The artfulness with which he had contrived to make himself and his character a question of discussion achieved only a half-success, for she only gave one of her most meaningless smiles as she said, ‘I do not know; I am not quite sure.’
‘And yet I am more concerned to learn what you would think on this score than for the opinion of the whole world.’
Like a man who has taken a leap and found a deep ‘drop’ on the other side, he came to a dead halt as he saw the cold and impassive look her features had assumed. He would have given worlds to recall his speech and stand as he did before it was uttered; for though she did not say one word, there was that in her calm and composed expression which reproved all that savoured of passionate appeal. A now-or-never sort of courage nerved him, and he went on: ‘I know all the presumption of a man like myself daring to address such words to you, Lady Maude; but do you remember that though all eyes but one saw only fog-bank in the horizon, Columbus maintained there was land in the distance; and so say I, “He who would lay his fortunes at your feet now sees high honours and great rewards awaiting him in the future. It is with you to say whether these honours become the crowning glories of a life, or all pursuit of them be valueless!” May I—dare I hope?’
‘This is Lebanon,’ said she; ‘at least I think so’; and she held her glass to her eye. ‘Strange caprice, wasn’t it, to call her house Lebanon because of those wretched cedars? Aunt Jerningham is so odd!’
‘There is a crowd of carriages here,’ said Atlee, endeavouring to speak with unconcern.
‘It is her day; she likes to receive on Sundays, as she says she escapes the bishops. By the way, did you tell me you were an old friend of hers, or did I dream it?’
‘I’m afraid it was the vision revealed it?’