The Sunday after the funeral Edmund threw off his mourning, and appeared in a dress suitable to his condition. He received the compliments of his friends with ease and cheerfulness, and began to enjoy his happiness. He asked an audience of his fair mistress, and was permitted to declare the passion he had so long stifled in his own bosom. She gave him a favourable hearing, and in a short time confessed that she had suffered equally in that suspense that was so grievous to him. They engaged themselves by mutual vows to each other, and only waited the Baron’s pleasure to complete their happiness; every cloud was vanished from their brows, and sweet tranquillity took possession of their bosoms. Their friends shared their happiness; William and Edmund renewed their vows of everlasting friendship, and promised to be as much together as William’s other duties would permit.
The Baron once more summoned all his company together; he told Edmund all that had passed relating to his brother in-law, his exile, and the pilgrimage of Zadisky; he then related the circumstances of Sir Robert’s engagement to Lord Clifford’s daughter, his establishment in his uncle’s seat, and his own obligations to return time enough to be present at the marriage: “But before I go,” said he, “I will give my daughter to the heir of Lovel, and then I shall have discharged my duty to him, and my promise to Sir Philip Harclay.”
“You have nobly performed both,” said Sir Philip, “and whenever you depart I shall be your companion.”
“What,” said Edmund, “am I to be deprived of both my fathers at once? My honoured lord, you have given away two houses—where do you intend to reside?”
“No matter,” said the Baron; “I know I shall be welcome to both.”
“My dear Lord,” said Edmund, “stay here and be still the master; I shall be proud to be under your command, and to be your servant as well as your son!”
“No, Edmund,” said the Baron, “that would not now be proper; this is your castle, you are its lord and master, and it is incumbent on you to shew yourself worthy of the great things Providence has done for you.”
“How shall I, a young man, acquit myself of so many duties as will be upon me, without the advice and assistance of my two paternal friends? Oh, Sir Philip! will you too leave me? once you gave me hopes—”
He stopped greatly affected.
Sir Philip said, “Tell me truly, Edmund, do you really desire that I should live with you?”