“The fear of having to return to that desolation must have been as strong a motive as love itself in inducing her to fly to Scotland with her lover.”
“Most probably.”
“She had neither father, nor brother, nor any relative near her; no one but governesses and servants.”
“Ah! my poor father never meant to be unkind, but it was cruel to leave her in that isolation.”
“She found it so; and she listened to the pleadings of her lover, whom her imagination had elevated into a hero, martyr, patriot and humanitarian, when, in fact, he was only a political refugee, on account of some hotheaded revolutionary utterances he had given.”
“Yes, I heard of Saviola’s exile while at Brighton; but I never met the man.”
“I think your friend Anglesea had not met him at the time you were in Brighton. He first met Saviola at Lord Middlemoor’s, on Brunswick Terrace.”
“You seem to be well informed on all points of this affair, Force.”
“Pretty well,” said the squire; “but to proceed. Your sister went to Scotland to marry Saviola, escorted by your friend Anglesea, who, having done all he could to dissuade the Italian from running away with the young lady, and having failed, was resolved that the marriage that he could not prevent should at least be properly and legally solemnized.”
“Yes, he told us that.”