‘Oh, that you would not!’ exclaimed Miss Temple. ‘You are so good, so noble! You would sympathise even with him. What other man in your situation would?’
‘What can be done?’
‘Listen: he was engaged to his cousin even on that fatal day when we first met; a lady with every charm and advantage that one would think could make a man happy; young, noble, and beautiful; of a most amiable and generous disposition, as her subsequent conduct has proved; and of great wealth.’
‘Miss Grandison?’ said Lord Montfort.
‘Yes: his parents looked forward to their union with delight, not altogether unmixed with anxiety.
The Armines, with all their princely possessions, are greatly embarrassed from the conduct of the last head of their house. Ferdinand himself has, I grieve to say, inherited too much of his grandfather’s imprudent spirit; his affairs, I fear, are terribly involved. When I knew him, papa was, as you are aware, a poor man. This marriage would have cured all; my Digby, I wish it to take place.’
‘How can we effect it?’ asked Lord Montfort.
‘Become his friend, dear Digby. I always think you can do anything. Yes! my only trust is in you. Oh! my Digby, make us all happy.’
Lord Montfort rose and walked up and down the room, apparently in profound meditation. At length he said, ‘Rest assured, Henrietta, that to secure your happiness nothing shall ever be wanting on my part. I will see Mr. Glastonbury on this subject. At present, dearest, let us think of lighter things.’