“He does not appear even to make the effort. They tell me he has squandered some thousands already, making presents to every one who will accept them.”
“He gave me this cane,” said Linton, superciliously, exhibiting a little riding cane, which he had taken himself out of Cashel's hand, and was of no value whatever. “Not any great evidence of exaggerated generosity,” said he. “As to his house, however, I trust its honors may be well done; he has given me carte blanche, and I must only try and not disgrace my prerogative.”
“How very late it is—nearly seven,” said Lady Kilgoff, looking at her watch.
“Shall I see your Ladyship to your carriage?” said Linton.
“I think not,” said she, blushing slightly; “as I left it unaccompanied, so I shall return to it Good-bye.”
She held out her hand as she spoke, but slightly averted her head, so that Linton could not mark the expression of her features. As it was, he pressed the gloved fingers to his lips, but, when doing so, contrived to unclasp her bracelet,—a singularly rich one, and a present from Lord Kilgoff on the day of her marriage. This he let fall noiselessly on the grass, and murmured, in a low voice, “Goodbye.”
Lady Kilgoff, hastily wrapping her shawl about her, left the spot. Linton watched her till he had seen her seated in the carriage, and continued to gaze after it, as it drove rapidly away, and so intently occupied by his thoughts, that he did not notice the approach of a horseman, who came up at a walking pace behind him.
“Eh, Tom!” cried out Lord Charles Frobisher, “this is flying at high game!”
“You are mistaken, Charley,” said he, in some confusion. “This 'meeting under the green-wood tree' was nothing less than a love affair.”
“Oh, hang your morality, Mr. Joseph; it's rather good fun to see the 'insolent beauty' of the season capitulating.”