Lord Cornelius, his brother, warned him of the folly of doing so; but instead of listening to his sage admonitions he first strove to laugh, and then frowning at him commanded silence.
In a few days he paid a visit to Oakwood House (Sir Alured’s mansion), and after that became more gloomy than before.
His father observed this, and one day as they were sitting alone remarked it to Albion, adding that he was fully acquainted with the reason.
Albion reddened but made no answer.
‘I am not, my son,’ continued the duke, ‘opposed to your wishes, though certainly there is a considerable difference of rank between yourself and Marina Angus, but that difference is compensated by the many admirable qualities she possesses.’
On hearing these words, Arthur,—Albion, I mean, —started up, and throwing himself at his father’s feet, poured forth his thanks in terms of glowing gratitude, while his fine features, flushed with excitation, spoke even more eloquently than his eloquent words.
‘Rise, Albion!’ said the duke; ‘you are worthy of her and she of you; but both are yet too young. Some years must elapse before your union takes place; therefore exert your patience, my son.’
Albion’s joy was slightly damped by this news, but his thankfulness and filial obedience as well as love forced him to acquiesce, and immediately after he quitted the room and took his way to Oakwood House.
There he related the circumstance to Marina, who, though she blushed incredulously, yet in truth felt as much gladness and as great a relief from doubt almost amounting to despair as himself.