Charles Tyrrell; or, The Bitter Blood. Volumes I and II

by G. P. R. James

Although Charles found it more difficult than he had imagined to quiet Lucy's apprehensions, yet he succeeded eventually in doing so, binding himself by promise to return to the University as soon as his father would permit him; and the question then became, whether he should go on to the manor-house, protecting Lucy by the way from all chance of farther annoyance, or she should return with him to Harbury Park. The former plan was adopted, and it were vain to say that they were not somewhat long on their way to the manor. The half hour, however, they thus spent was as sweet to the heart of Charles Tyrrell as it could be; for it gave him every assurance that man could receive from woman of the whole affection of Lucy Effingham being his.

As they were just issuing out of the park and entering the grounds of the manor-house, however, Lucy paused for a moment and said, "Of course I must tell my mother."

Charles himself could have wished for a little delay, being well aware, from what he had seen of Mrs. Effingham, that she would hold herself bound in honour immediately to make known the facts to Sir Francis and Lady Tyrrell. But, although the idea suggested itself of requesting Lucy not to mention the explanation which had taken place between them for a day or two, he could not make up his mind to ask one, from whom he trusted himself to meet unbounded confidence, to show any want of confidence to such a mother as hers.

"I will go in with you, Lucy," he said, at length, "and tell your mother all that I feel upon the occasion. We run great risks by being frank and open in this business: I will not conceal from you, Lucy, that we shall most likely bring upon ourselves grief and anxiety for some time by such conduct; but neither will I ask you, on any account, to act otherwise. We must bear what we cannot prevent; and if Lucy loves me as I love her, we shall be happy in the end."

He did, accordingly, go into the manor-house, and was shown into the room where Mrs. Effingham was, while Lucy, seized with a sudden fit of timidity, even towards her own mother, took refuge in her chamber.

Mrs. Effingham was not a little surprised to see Charles Tyrrell, whom she imagined far on his way to Oxford; but he scarcely gave her time to express that surprise, telling her, first, the cause of his father's not coming, and then entering rapidly upon all that had occurred between him and Lucy, and upon the subject of their mutual love for each other. He told her how he had been tempted to ask Lucy not to mention the matter for some days. He assured her of his perfect certainty that Sir Francis Tyrrell, if suffered to pursue his own course, would propose a marriage between them very soon. But he assured her also, that if his father were made acquainted with the fact of his having himself proposed to Lucy, even in a moment of such excitement as that in which he did first tell her of his affection, Sir Francis would throw obstacles in the way which might bring misery, distress, and disappointment upon them.

He spoke rapidly and eagerly, refusing to sit down, and leaning on the table before Mrs. Effingham; while she, on her part, was agitated by various different feelings at the different parts of his hurried details. Anger, indignation, and apprehension were the first feelings she experienced on hearing of the appearance of Arthur Hargrave. A slight degree of surprise appeared upon her fine countenance when she heard how willingly Lucy had received the addresses of Charles Tyrrell.

"I have been deceived in this matter myself, my dear young gentleman," she said; "Lucy is perfectly incapable of falsehood or concealment of any kind; and though I informed Lady Tyrrell, and gave her leave to inform you of what I suspected to be the case in this matter, yet I told her that I had never asked Lucy herself, because I thought it unfair to press her upon the matter when her father and myself were quite decided in our determination. I took my impression, too, of Lucy's feelings from the positive assurance of a person whose opinion I ought to have doubted, and who, doubtless, received hers from the sister of this young man."

As Charles went on, however, to tell all that had occurred, a slight smile, in which pleasure had its share, hung upon Mrs. Effingham's lip at finding how entirely her daughter and Charles Tyrrell relied upon her consent being given to their union. They never, indeed, entertained a doubt upon the subject, and the confidence of affection was well calculated to give the mother pleasure.

When the young gentleman, however, came to speak upon the character and probable conduct of his father Mrs. Effingham found matter for more serious thoughts. She was deeply gratified with the perfect candour and openness of Charles's behaviour; but it placed her in a somewhat difficult situation, from which she saw no relief but in his immediately returning to Oxford; and, after he had ceased speaking, she remained for a minute or two in deep thought before she replied. The answer even then was elicited by his saying, "Well, dear Mrs. Effingham, I must now return, as I have been absent twice as long as I ought to have been; but I was resolved to tell you at once all that I thought upon the subject, and leave you to act as you think fit."