“Ah, it’s easy to be magnanimous when one is happy,” returned Leicester; “besides, I really was rather sorry for the poor devil, for, as I dare say you’ve guessed long ago, it is clear Laura refused him last night—in fact she as good as told me so.”
“Perhaps it may benefit him,” remarked Lewis. “His vanity was too plethoric, and a little judicious lowering may conduce to the general health of his moral system.”
“I’m afraid it’s a case of too long standing,” replied Leicester. “Such a lamentable instance of egotism on the brain is not so easily to be cured; however, he’s had a pretty strong dose this time, I must confess. And now, seeing that my boots have been wet through for the last three hours, the sooner I get rid of them the better.” So saying, Charley Leicester took himself off, preparatory to performing the same operation on his perfidious boots.
CHAPTER XXX.—THE GENERAL TAKES THE FIELD.
The interview which Lewis had witnessed between Lord Bellefield and the girl dwelt in his thoughts, and was a source of much doubt and uneasiness to him. The quiet, secluded life he had led for the last year affording ample time for meditation—the almost total want of society (for poor Walter was no companion)—the peculiar position in which he was placed, shut out from all the pleasures and excitements natural to his age and taste—had given an unusually reflective turn to his vigorous mind, and produced in him a gravity and depth of character, to which, under different circumstances, he might never have attained. Thus, in the views he took of life, he was accustomed to look beyond the surface, and deeming it unworthy of a believer in the truths of Christianity to attribute events to the mere caprice of a blind destiny, was rather disposed to trace in such occurrences the finger of a directing Providence, and to consider them as opportunities purposely thrown in our way, for the use or abuse of which we should one day be called to account, as for every talent committed to our charge. Holding these opinions, he could not be content to sit down quietly with the knowledge of which he had become possessed without making some effort to prevent Lord Bellefield from successfully accomplishing the evil he could not doubt he meditated. But what then should he do? The question was not an easy one to answer. The most natural and effectual means to employ would be to inform General Grant of the affair; he was the person likely (as the father of his future bride) to possess most influence over Lord Belle-field, while as possessor of the estate on which they resided he was certain to meet with respect and obedience from the parents of the girl. But besides the dislike every honourable man feels to undertake the office of tale-bearer, Lewis’s chivalrous nature shrank from even the appearance of seeking to wreak his revenge on the man who had insulted him, by injuring him in the opinion of his future father-in-law. Again, were he to find out the girl and expostulate with her, he felt certain he should produce no good effect—the fact of her being aware of the terms on which he stood with her admirer would render her suspicious of his intentions, and prevent her from paying any regard to his arguments. At last it occurred to him to mention the thing to Charles Leicester, and persuade him, if possible, to visit the girl, and at all events to make her aware of the deceit which had been practised upon her by his brother in assuming his name. Accordingly, he determined to seek an early opportunity of speaking to Leicester on the subject; but good resolutions are always more easy to form than to carry into effect. On the following morning Leicester went to town, as well to acquaint his father with the important step he contemplated as to bear in person an invitation to an old family friend and ci-devant guardian of Laura Peyton’s to join the party at Broadhurst; nor did he return till after several days had elapsed, so that it was nearly a week ere Lewis found the opportunity he sought for.
There had been a dinner-party at Broadhurst, and, as was the custom of the neighbourhood, the guests had departed early. Lewis waited till Leicester had disposed of a lady whom he was handing to a carriage, then drawing him aside, he made him acquainted with the interview which he had involuntarily witnessed, informing him at the same time of his object in so doing. As he proceeded with his tale Leicester’s brow grew dark.
“It is really too bad of Bellefield,” he muttered, “situated as he is in regard to this family; it shows a want of all proper feeling—all delicacy of mind—assuming my name, too! Suppose it had come to Laura’s ears by any chance—’pon my word I’ve a great mind to speak to him about it—though, I don’t know, it would only lead to a quarrel—Bellefield is not a man to brook interference. I feel quite as you do in regard to the affair, my dear Arundel, but really I don’t see that I can do anything that would be of the slightest use.”
“Surely you can find out the girl and prove to her the truth of my statement, that your brother has deceived her by assuming your name—you owe that to yourself.”