"Beyond a doubt," replied Mr. Prevost. "Let me call her; her answer will soon be given, for she is not one to trifle with anybody."
He rose as he spoke, as if to quit the room, but Lord H---- stopped him, saying: "Not yet, not yet, my dear sir. She had little, if any, rest last night, and has experienced much fatigue and anxiety during the last twenty-four hours; probably she is taking some repose, and I must not allow even a lover's impatience to deprive her of that."
"I had forgotten," said Mr. Prevost. "It is indeed true; the dear child must, indeed, need some repose. It is strange, my lord, how sorrows and joys blend themselves together in all events of mortal life. I had thought, when in years long ago I entwined my fingers in the glossy curls of my Edith's hair, and looking through the liquid crystal of her eyes, seemed to see into the deep foundations of pure emotions in her young heart--I had thought, I say, that few joys would be equal to that of seeing her, at some future day, bestow her hand on some man worthy of her, to make and partake the happiness of a cheerful home; but now I find the thought has its bitter as well as its sweet; and memories of the chilly grave rise up to call a solemn and sobered shade over the bright picture drawn."
His tone dropped gradually as he spoke, and fixing his eyes upon the ground, he again fell into a fit of absent thought, which lasted long.
Lord H---- would not disturb his reverie, and walking quietly out of the room, he gave himself also up to meditation. But his reflective moods were of a different kind from those of his friend--more eager, more active--and they required some employment for the limbs while the mind was so busy. To and fro he walked before the house for nearly an hour, before Mr. Prevost came forth and found him; and then the walk was still continued. But the father's thoughts, though they had wandered for a while, had soon returned to his daughter, and their conversation was of Edith only.
At length, when it was nearly noon, as they turned upon the little open space of ground in front of the dwelling, the eyes of the young nobleman, which had been turned more than once to the door, rested on Edith as she stood in the hall and gazed forth over the prospect.
"The fire seems to be raging there still," she said, pointing with her fair hand over the country toward the southwest, where hung a dense canopy of smoke above the forest. "What a blessing one of our autumnal rains would be!"
Lord H---- made no reply, but suddenly left her father's side, and taking her extended hand in his, led her into the little sitting-room. They remained long enough together--to Mr. Prevost it seemed very long--but when the lover led her to the door again there were once more happy tears in her eyes, glad blushes on her cheek; and though the strong, manly arm was fondly thrown around her waist, she escaped from its warm clasp and cast herself upon the bosom of her father.
"She is mine!" said Lord H----. "She is mine!"
"But none the less mine," answered Mr. Prevost, kissing her cheek.