“Enough,” said I, “I seek not to pain you more. The daring ambition that prompted me to love you, has met its heaviest retribution. Farewell,—You, Lady Jane, have nothing to reproach yourself with—You never encouraged, you never deceived me. I, and I alone have been to blame, and mine must be the suffering. Adieu, then once more, and now for ever.”
She turned slowly round, and as the handkerchief fell from her hand,—her features were pale as marble,—I saw that she was endeavouring to speak, but could not; and at length, as the colour came slowly back to her cheek, her lips moved, and just as I leaned forward, with a beating heart to hear, her sister came running forward, and suddenly checked herself in her career, as she said, laughingly,—
“Mille pardons, Jane, but his Excellency must take another occasion to explain the quadruple alliance, for mamma has been waiting in the carriage these ten minutes.”
I followed them to the door, placed them in the carriage, and was turning again towards the house, when Lady Callonby said—
“Oh, Mr. Lorrequer, we count upon you—you must not desert us.”
I muttered something about not feeling well.
“And then, perhaps, the Greek loan is engaging your attention,” said Catherine; “or, mayhap, some reciprocity treaty is not prospering.”
The malice of this last sally told, for Jane blushed deeply, and I felt overwhelmed with confusion.
“But pray come—the drive will do you good.”
“Your ladyship will, I am certain, excuse”—