Wilhelm.—Marry! the heir.
—Newman.
Magnus had returned home with his cousin. The next day the family from the Hollow dined at Mount Calm, by invitation. General Garnet was still cold and reserved to Magnus, but showed the most marked attention to Lionel. This at first surprised Dr. Hardcastle; but soon, with a haughty curl of the lip, he thought:
“I see how it is; fortune has changed. I have lost an inheritance.”
After dinner Lionel told a tale of an Algerine cruiser, of a long captivity, of a hair-breadth escape, but left as vague an impression of reality upon the minds of his hearers as it leaves now upon the minds of my readers. They did not doubt his story, but they could not well connect the effeminate beauty of the man with any life of pirate-adventure and slavery hardships.
Elsie was saddened for the first time in her life, and she scarcely knew wherefore. During the short estrangement between herself and her lover she had been nervous, anxious, excitable; now she was depressed. She loved her mother very tenderly; she loved her father passionately; and Magnus she loved—oh, how shall I say?—with an infinite future reservation. But now she saw a cloud—she was too guileless to know wherefore—settle and deepen, dark, cold, and chill, between her lover and her father; and the happy, buoyant Elsie grew pensive and thoughtful. General Garnet, with all his coldness, was studiously polite; and Magnus was self-possessed and social.
As this day passed—as far as the relative positions of some of the parties were concerned—so passed the weeks, and brought the day upon which Judge Wylie’s party was to be given.
There was a heavy cloud of thought and care upon the brow of General Garnet; and those who knew him well surmised that he was considering the best manner of transferring the hand of the heiress of Mount Calm from the poor doctor to the rich heir of Hemlock Hollow.
Magnus continued his visits, as usual, undisturbed by the freezing exterior of General Garnet.
Alice always received him with affection; and Elsie’s manner to him was earnest, affectionate, deferential, as if she wished to make up for her father’s coldness. She was no longer shy and diffident. It seemed as if the presentiment of some impending misfortune, which she felt rather than understood, had thrown down the barriers of her reserve, and that she could not do too much, in her sweet, feminine way, to assure Magnus of her unchangeable affection and unswerving truth. Her eyes waited on him, shyly, all day long, for her maiden pride was self-subdued, but not her maidenly delicacy. Elsie had no suspicion of what her father really meant until the morning of the day upon which Judge Wylie’s ball was to be given. General Garnet called Elsie into his room, and having explained in his polite way—he was polite even to his child—that circumstances beyond all human calculation or control had rendered it expedient that a new adjustment of affairs should take place, and that she must no longer look upon Magnus Hardcastle in the light of a suitor for her hand, but must, on the contrary, prepare herself to think of, and accept, Lionel Hardcastle, to whom he had given permission to visit her—Elsie opened wide her eyes in undisguised astonishment, that her father, her revered father, should ask her to break her plighted faith; but without one atom of terror, and without an instant’s hesitation, she answered: