“So you do. Take my arm.—No, putting the tips of your fingers on it is no use; take it really—you want support. Be courageous, now—we are very near home.”
Zoe trembled, and cried a little, to conclude the incident, but walked bravely home on Uxmoor's arm.
In the hall at Somerville Villa she saw him change color, and insisted on his taking some port wine.
“I shall be very glad,” said he.
A decanter was brought. He filled a large tumbler and drank it off like water.
This was the first intimation he gave Zoe that he was in pain, and his nerves hard tried; nor did she indeed arrive at that conclusion until he had left her.
Of course, she carried all this to Aunt Maitland. That lady was quite moved by the adventure. She sat up in bed, and listened with excitement and admiration. She descanted on Lord Uxmoor's courage and chivalry, and congratulated Zoe that such a pearl of manhood had fallen at her feet. “Why, child,” said she, “surely, after this, you will not hesitate between this gentleman and a beggarly adventurer, who has nothing, not even the courage of a man. Turn your back on all such rubbish, and be the queen of the county. I'd be content to die to-morrow if I could see you Countess of Uxmoor.”
“You shall live, and see it, dear aunt,” said Zoe, kissing her.
“Well,” said Miss Maitland, “if anything can cure me, that will. And really,” said she, “I feel better ever since that brave fellow began to bring you to your senses.”
Admiration and gratitude being now added to esteem, Zoe received Lord Uxmoor next day with a certain timidity and half tenderness she had never shown before; and, as he was by nature a rapid wooer, he saw his chance, and stayed much longer than usual, and at last hazarded a hope that he might be allowed to try and win her heart.