"She is so now, my lord," I answered; "but such was not the case till our return from the last campaign."
"You have done wrong, De Juvigny," he said, speaking mournfully, but not harshly; "you have done wrong: but still, as I have said, I have no right to blame you, for I look upon myself as the cause of all this unhappiness. I should have been upon my guard; I should have known that such an intimacy could not go on without ending as it has done; and I should have taken measures either to warn you yourself, or to make you happy. I blame you not, therefore, however great might have been the relief to know that Laura was unacquainted with feelings that cannot be gratified."
"Believe me, my lord," I answered, "I never intended that she should be made acquainted with those feelings, and that the discovery of them was entirely accidental. You will do me the justice, too, I am sure, to feel confident that my opportunities of seeing and conversing with Mademoiselle de Villardin have never been employed to make her forget her duty towards you. On the contrary, our whole thoughts have been turned to the means of overcoming a passion that we felt to be hopeless."
"There is but one means, De Juvigny," replied Monsieur de Villardin,--"there is but one way--to part. To know that I am bound to wound my daughter's happiness, as well as that of a man I love better than if he were my own son, is bitter enough; but still it must be done. My promise is given, and it must not only be held inviolable, but I must show no hesitation in fulfilling it--no wish to evade its immediate execution. You and Laura must part, De Juvigny, and I am sure that on reflection you will find it is better for you both to do so at once. I trust--I hope--that this passion has not yet obtained so deep a root in the bosom of either, as not to yield to the power of reason and the effect of time and absence."
I shook my head, for I felt that such could not be the case; but at the same time I replied,--"It will be better for us to part, I do indeed believe, my lord; for, however vain it is to hope that I shall ever forget, yet my stay here serves no good purpose, and only renders myself and her I love more miserable. I am ready to set out even this very night, if you think fit."
"No, no," he said, hastily; "not so, my dear boy: you must not quit my dwelling as one in disgrace! That I cannot suffer!--especially when I feel that I owe you atonement for having exposed you to so much unhappiness, as well as deep gratitude and affection for all that you have done for me and mine. No,--your departure must be as that of a well-beloved son, honoured, esteemed, and regretted; and your fortune must be rendered equal to maintain a high station in society, and to obtain for you a ready acceptance from the friends of any one on whom you may hereafter place your affection."
The feelings in my heart were too bitter to permit of my making any reply for some minutes, but I answered at length,--"I will appeal to your own heart, my lord, whether those who have loved deeply and truly ever love twice. But that matters not. In the present instance, you must permit me to decline any farther gift. I am proud to believe that, on some occasions, I have rendered your lordship services of some importance; and deeply gratified to find that you value them at a higher rate even than they deserve. But if, as you are pleased to say, you owe me some gratitude, I owe you infinitely more; and though I love you too deeply and too sincerely to offer to restore those things which you formerly bestowed upon me, yet I can accept no more, especially at a moment like this."
"I will not press you then now," replied Monsieur de Villardin; "but we are not going to part for ever, De Juvigny, and when we meet again, I shall insist upon that which I wave for the present. But tell me, in the meantime, what you intend to do with yourself; for of course my interest in you remains not only unabated, but increased, from all that has occurred."
"Oh! fear not, my lord," I replied, the bitterness of my heart mastering me in spite of all my efforts, and drawing from me but an ungrateful return for the kindness of Monsieur de Villardin; "fear not, my lord; I shall do well enough. When I first touched the shores of France, my worldly situation was much less brilliant than it is at present, though I had, indeed, a lighter heart. I have now lands and lordships, and a regiment in the service of the King of France. What need I more?"
"I will tell you, De Juvigny," replied Monsieur de Villardin, laying his hand kindly upon my arm, and speaking mildly, though somewhat reproachfully; "I will tell you what you need more than all:--a friend and companion, who will sooth your sorrows, will divert your griefs from preying on your own mind, will point out topics of consolation, will persuade you to think well of those who love you, will endeavour to make you feel less acutely what it may be impossible to forget, and, in short, will act towards you in your sorrows the part which you acted towards me in mine. It grieves me that I cannot be the man to do so myself; but if you will follow my advice, you will seek out your friend Lord Masterton, and, from all I have ever heard of him, I think you will find one who will take a deep interest, in your fate, and feel the most sincere sympathy for all that afflicts you."