“It is a painful thing for me to attempt to guess your thoughts; but if it be of Mr. St. George that you are thinking, have no fear respecting him; have no fear about his present situation. Trust to me that there shall be no anxiety for his future one. I will be his unknown guardian, his unseen friend; the promoter of your wishes, the protector of your—”
“No, no,” said Miss Fane, with firmness, and looking quickly up, as if her mind were relieved by discovering that all this time Vivian had never imagined she was thinking of him. “No, no, you are mistaken; it is not of Mr. St. George, of Mr. St. George only, that I am thinking. I am much better now; I shall be able in an instant to speak; be able, I trust, to forget how foolish, how very foolish I have been.
“Let us walk on,” continued Miss Fane, “let us walk on; we can easily account for our absence if it be remarked; and it is better that it should be all over. I feel quite well, and shall be able to speak quite firmly now.”
“Do not hurry; there is no fear of our absence being remarked, Lady Madeleine is so surrounded.”
“After what has passed, it seems ridiculous in me to apologise, as I had intended, for speaking to you on a graver subject than what has generally formed the point of conversation between us. I feared that you might misunderstand the motives which have dictated my conduct. I have attempted not to appear agitated, and I have been overcome. I trust that you will not be offended if I recur to the subject of the New House. Do not believe that I ever would have allowed my fears, my girlish fears, so to have overcome my discretion; so to have overcome, indeed, all propriety of conduct on my part; as to have induced me to have sought an interview with you, to moralise to you about your mode of life. No, no; it is not of this that I wish to speak, or rather that I will speak. I will hope, I will pray, that Albert and yourself have never found in that which you have followed as an amusement, the source, the origin, the cause of a single unhappy or even anxious moment; Mr. Grey, I will believe all this.”
“Dearest Miss Fane, believe it with confidence. Of St. George, I can with sincerity aver, that it is my firm opinion, that, far from being involved, his fortune is not in the slightest degree injured. Believe me, I will not attempt to quiet you now, as I would have done at any other time, by telling you that you magnify your fears, and allow your feelings to exaggerate the danger which exists. There has been danger. There is danger; play, high play, has been and is pursued at this New House, but Mr. St. George has never been a loser; and if the exertions of man can avail, never shall, at least unfairly. As to the other individual, whom you have honoured by the interest which you have professed in his welfare, no one can more thoroughly detest any practice which exists in this world than he does the gaming-table.”
“Oh! you have made me so happy! I feel so persuaded that you have not deceived me! the tones of your voice, your manner, your expression, convince me that you have been sincere, and that I am happy, at least for the present.”
“For ever, I trust, Miss Fane.”
“Let me now prevent future misery. Let me speak about that which has long dwelt on my mind like a nightmare, about that which I did fear it was almost too late to speak. Not of your pursuit, not even of that fatal pursuit, do I now think, but of your companion in this amusement, in all amusements! it is he, he whom I dread, whom I look upon with horror, even to him, I cannot say, with hatred!”
“The Baron?” said Vivian, calmly.