How many fruitless beatings of the heart there are in the world! Whether it be from fear, anxiety, agitation, hope, anger, love, hatred, that beating of the heart is one of the most vain and useless operations which any part of the human frame performs. The heart of Chandos Winslow beat very idly at the door of General Tracy's house, in Green-street. He fancied that in about a minute and a half he would be in the presence of Rose Tracy, he painted to himself her looks, he seemed to hear her words; but when he found himself in the drawing-room, the General was there alone; and the very simple words, "Bring dinner," which were uttered as soon as he entered, showed him as plainly as if the General had spoken an oration, that he and his host were to dine tête-à-tête. He felt a good deal disappointed; but he did not suffer his mortification to appear; and in about ten minutes he was seated at the hospitable board and partaking of a very excellent, though plain dinner. The wines were all exceedingly good, though not very various; and Sherry, of the best vintage, Madeira, which had twice seen the Cape, with Oporto, which had lived as wine in part of two centuries, supplied well the place of Champagne, of Claret, and of Burgundy.
The General suffered the meal to pass by, and also the two first glasses of wine after dinner, without touching upon anything which had a business tone in it. Chandos found that Rose, Emily, and Mr. Tracy had moved during the preceding day to that gentleman's house, in Berkeley-square.
"There is a great deal to be done there," said General Tracy; "and it is well that they should be on the spot."
Some short time after dinner, came one of those pauses which are generally produced by a slight feeling of embarrassment on both parts. Chandos was not sure whether General Tracy expected him to begin upon the subject nearest his heart, or not; and the General himself, though a very brave and determined man in most matters, shrunk a little from the commencement of a conversation, in the course of which he felt that pain might be given to one whom he liked and esteemed.
At length he forced himself to the task; and, after putting over the decanter to his guest, and rubbing his right temple for a moment, he said, "Your friend, Sir ----, made an admirable defence for you, Winslow. I could only have wished that he had omitted a few words about my pretty niece, Rose. I think it was unnecessary, and not altogether judicious."
"Had I possessed any power of stopping him," replied Chandos Winslow; "those words should never have been spoken, my dear Sir. But I very well understand the motives on which Sir ---- acted. He only thought of his client's defence; and judged it was necessary to assign or hint some reason for not calling Miss Tracy on my part, as it had already appeared that she was the last person with whom I spoke before the murder. I am exceedingly grieved, however, that the slightest pain should have been inflicted upon her for my sake."
"No, no," said General Tracy; "do not vex yourself about that. I am not inclined to think that Rose has felt any pain on that account. The reason why I feel sorry, is, that what he said must force forward explanations, my young friend, which might have been better delayed. No one can accuse you, Chandos, of having acted in any way but with the most perfect delicacy, except, perhaps, in having induced Rose to conceal from her family your real rank and name, while playing gardener at Northferry."
"I trust, General Tracy," replied Chandos, "that you and your brother are both perfectly well aware, I had no notion whatever, when I came to Northferry, that my London acquaintance, Miss Tracy, was a daughter of the master of the house. Had I been informed of the fact, I give you my word of honour, I should not have played gardener there at all. When I had once applied for the place, however, if I had not bound her to secrecy, of course, I must have abandoned my whole scheme."
"That certainly makes a difference," said General Tracy, with a smile; "and would make a greater difference still, if there had not been a little bit of love in the case, my young friend."
"There was none when I came there," exclaimed Chandos, eagerly; "I had but seen Miss Tracy once. I admired her, as all who see her must admire her; but I can assure you there was nothing more: though I do not mean to deny that longer acquaintance, and the circumstances in which we have been placed with regard to each other, have changed what was then mere admiration into the most sincere and devoted attachment."