Lewis took it in his own, and pressed it warmly as he replied, “Nobody could resist such gentle pleading.”
At this moment the door was flung open, and Charles Leicester burst in, looking more puzzled, excited, and angry than he had ever been known to do in the previous course of his existence; while Antonelli, vociferating eagerly in Italian and broken English, was vainly endeavouring to detain him.
CHAPTER LV.—IS DECIDEDLY ORIGINAL, AS IT DISPLAYS MATRIMONY IN A MORE FAVOURABLE LIGHT THAN COURTSHIP.
The Honourable Charles Leicester was, take him all in all, about as easy-tempered a fellow as ever breathed; but when old Antonelli informed him that his young and pretty wife was closeted with a mysterious stranger, at the same time positively refusing to allow him to enter the apartment in which they were shut up together, even he considered that it was time to exert himself; so seizing the old man by the arm and swinging him round with a degree of energy which greatly discomposed that worthy cicerone, he threw open the door, and staring with an angry and bewildered gaze into the dimly-lighted room, discovered, to his horror and disgust, Laura quietly sitting with her hand clasped in that of a handsome young Italian, for such did Lewis at first sight appear. The period which had elapsed since Leicester had last seen him had produced so marked a change in his appearance, that meeting him for the first time under circumstances so utterly disconnected with all former associations, he might well deem he was addressing a total stranger. Lewis’s pale features had regained in a great degree their look of health, and exposure to a southern sun had converted the delicate complexion into a manly brown, while, having allowed his moustaches and even a short curly beard to grow, the lower part of his face was enveloped in a mass of glossy black hair; this, and the stern, thoughtful expression of his countenance, caused him to look at least five years older than he really was. He rose as Leicester entered and advanced a step towards him; then, seeing that the other did not in the slightest degree recognise him, he paused and exchanged a smiling glance with Laura as he marked Charley’s puzzled, angry expression.
Laura, entering thoroughly into the absurdity of the situation, determined to improve it to the uttermost; returning Lewis’s glance with a look into which she contrived to throw an amount of tenderness that by no means soothed her husband’s irritation, she began—
“Ah, Charles, let me introduce you; you will be delighted to hear that Signore Luigi has kindly promised to dine with us to-morrow.”
“The deuce he has!” muttered Leicester to himself; “he might have waited till I had asked him, I think;” then acknowledging the introduction by a freezing little bow, he continued aloud—
“Now, my dear Laura, we must really be going;” then crossing to the place where his wife was seated, he held out his arm with the evident intention of linking hers with it and walking her off forthwith.