Emily, indeed, shrank from his fierce and fiery advances, but as he had yet said nothing, it was impossible to check them as far as she could have wished. Still she retired from his pursuit; but her very hesitation and withdrawal seemed to inspire him with fresh vehemence and ardour; and the strong passion that he felt, all animal as it was, seemed to grow more and more upon him hour after hour. Mr. Tracy saw the whole with some uneasiness; for he saw no sign of his daughter returning the feelings which she had evidently inspired in Sir William Winslow. He was not at all a man inclined to sacrifice his daughter; nor was he indeed one, in any ordinary circumstances, to thwart her inclinations; nor did he feel at all sure, in the abstract, that Sir William was the man he would himself have chosen for her. Not that the latter made himself by any means disagreeable; far from it. The bird plumes his feathers in the eyes of his mate; the tabby cat washes her face, and smooths her fur for the eyes of her companion, according to Pope; and the intensity of his feelings, by the unaffected course of nature, caused Sir William Winslow to display all that was good or bright in his character, all that might captivate or attract. He was witty, he was brilliant, he was gay; and the depth of his passion gave a vigour and profoundness to his thoughts, a figurative splendour to his expressions, which might well have carried away any heart not armed and prepared against him. He was certainly very handsome, too; not that in features or in form he could compare with his brother; but still, when Chandos was absent, one would hardly be found to say, that they had seen a finer looking man.
It was on the seventeenth evening of his stay there, that, with the party I have mentioned, he was seated in the drawing-room, after dinner. He had placed himself as near Emily as he could, but that was not exactly at her side; for she had contrived, by an intuitive skill in the science of defence, to get the old lady on one side of her, and her uncle on the other. Mr. Tracy was talking to the pretty girl who sang, and Horace Fleming--very wretched--was speaking in a low voice to Rose. Rose was charity itself; and somehow, within the last two months, her eyes had become wonderfully sharpened to what was going on in people's hearts. What beautiful eyes they were, when she looked kindly upon one; shining soft and yet bright, like the light of a planet!
What Mr. Fleming had said I did not hear; but Rose replied, "It will be of no avail. He can never induce her to like him."
They were the sweetest words Horace Fleming had ever heard; and with courage renewed he went over, and standing before Miss Tracy, joined in the conversation with quiet grace, which woke a world of fiends in Sir William Winslow's bosom.
Now, there was one curse upon Northferry, proceeding directly from the original sin--the love of the fruit of the tree of knowledge. There was a post from London twice a-day--excellent for commercial men; sometimes good for solicitors; always agreeable to gossiping ladies, young or old; but the greatest annoyance possible in a calm, quiet little society, where all the business or agitation of the day is as well got over at once. The second post at Northferry House arrived about half-past nine; and the moment after Horace Fleming had left Rose's side, the butler entered with a salver, upon which appeared an enormous collection of letters, and a newspaper. Mr. Tracy took the letters, and the General the newspaper. The former apologized for looking at his correspondence, and the latter was besought by Rose to see if any one was dead or married.
Poor girl, she did not know what she asked. She was like one of those who seek to look into fate, and find condemnation in the voice of the oracle.
General Tracy opened the paper, and turned to seek the important part which gives so much satisfaction to all ladies; but as he ran his eye down the columns, it was caught by the words "DUEL AT WIMBLEDON." He was a soldier, be it remembered; so that he might be excused for pausing.
"Why, what is the matter, my dear uncle?" asked Emily. "Are you appointed to the command of the forces in India?"
"No, saucy flower," answered the old officer; "but here is something in which we shall all take an interest, though a somewhat painful one--a duel, Sir William, in which one of our acquaintances has been engaged, with a relation of your own;" and he proceeded to read,--"This morning, at an early hour, a hostile meeting took place, near the old mill at Wimbledon, between Viscount Overton and Chandos Winslow, Esq., younger brother of Sir William Winslow, Bart., of Elmsly and Winslow Abbey, the consequences of which, we are sorry to say, are likely to prove fatal"--Rose turned as pale as death; but her uncle went on--"to the noble Viscount. The cause of quarrel, it appears, would not admit of any apology on either side; and after having in vain endeavoured to effect an accommodation on the field, the seconds, Lord George Lumley and Colonel Sir Henry d'Estragon, measured the ground; and at the first fire, Lord Overton fell, severely wounded. The ball penetrated the right side, about six inches below the clavicle, and is supposed to have lodged under the blade bone, after having traversed the lungs. The noble Viscount was promptly attended to by Mr. G--e, who was on the ground; but after having staunched the effusion of blood, the eminent surgeon advised the immediate removal of the patient to his house in ---- street, for further treatment. After having ascertained that his opponent was not actually dead, Mr. Winslow set out for the continent in a post-chaise and four, which was in waiting, accompanied by Sir Henry d'Estragon; and Lord George Lumley has also judged it expedient to absent himself from London, till the fate of Lord Overton is ascertained. We regret to say that the report in ---- street, is very unfavourable."
"I thought my brother would not be a fortnight without quarrelling with somebody," said Sir William Winslow.