Lady Margaret seated herself where Arrah had been sitting, and, bending down her head over the dog, continued talking to him in a low murmuring voice for some minutes. Annie Walton and the Earl of Beverley remained conversing in the window, and their eyes soon rested upon Lord Walton and Arrah Neil, as they walked up and down one of the broad gravel-walks. The face of the young nobleman was grave and attentive; but from time to time he raised his look to his fair companion's countenance, and seemed to ask some questions, Arrah Neil's gaze was most frequently bent upon the ground, but nevertheless at different periods of their conference she glanced for a single instant eagerly at the face of Charles Walton, as if seeking to discover what impression her story made upon him, and then with downcast eyes again went on with her tale.
Annie Walton felt for her; for there was something is her heart that made her sure the telling of that tale to the ear that heard it would be matter of no light emotion to poor Arrah Neil. She would have given worlds to see her brother smile, to know that he spoke gentle words and kind encouragement; but he turned up and down the walk, again and again, with the same thoughtful air, the same high and lofty bearing--not proud, not harsh, but grave and calm. And yet it was better as it was, for Arrah Neil knew him well and loved him dearly as he was; and any deviation from his natural character, any softer, any more tender movement, might have agitated her and rendered her incapable of going on with tranquil clearness. At length, however, when it seemed all at an end--the story told as far as she could tell it--the whole truth known as far as she knew it herself--Lord Walton suddenly paused, and casting his arms suddenly round her who had been the object of his house's bounty, pressed a warm kiss upon her glowing cheek. Then taking her hand in his, he drew it within his arm again and led her back towards the house, her face crimson and her limbs trembling with deep emotion.
The Earl of Beverley turned to Annie Walton with a smile.
"God's blessing on them," he said, "and on all hearts that love!"
Miss Walton started. "You do not understand it, Francis," she replied.
"Yes, dear one, I do," said her lover; "I have long seen it. I know Charles Walton well, and the share that generous enthusiasm and calm reasoning prudence have in his nature. He has loved rashly, and checked his love. Some great obstacle is gone, and love has now the sceptre. He is not a man to debase that which he loves, or I should have feared for poor Arrah Neil; but he is not one either to sacrifice what he thinks right, even to his heart's dearest affections; and therefore, dear Annie, I have grieved for him. But, my beloved," he added, speaking even lower than before, "between us there is no such barrier as has always existed between them. A period of repose must soon come, and then, surely----"
Annie Walton cast down her eyes and the colour mounted in her cheek; but ere the earl's sentence was concluded Lord Walton and his fair companion re-entered the hall, and she turned towards them without reply. Her lover gently detained her, however, gazing into her face half-reproachfully; and she murmured in a low tone--
"I am always ready to fulfil my promises."
"Thanks, dear one! thanks!" answered the earl; and turning to Lady Margaret, he released her hand, seeing that her brother beckoned her towards him.
"You know all she tells me, Annie," said Charles Walton, as his sister joined him and Arrah at the other side of the room; "but this must be kept secret for the present. We must have the further proofs ere we say aught to any one."