CHAPTER XI.
CECIL AGAIN WRITES TO FRANK.
Although you have not answered my letters, Frank, I must write to you once more, if only to gratify that besoin d'epanchement which all lovers feel. Were I a century or two older, I might carve my Blanche's name on every tree, comme cela se pratiquait autrefois; but being a frock-coated-nineteenth-century prosaic creature, I am condemned to write on unsentimental Bath post, that which should be confided only to the trees.
You will doubtless raise those wondering eyebrows at the sight of the name Blanche. It is not an erratum for Violet, I assure you; I have given up all thoughts of that high-spirited, imperial, but imperious creature. I looked into my heart and found I loved her not. She is evidently hurt at my inconstancy; but, on nearer acquaintance, I found Blanche so infinitely preferable, that I could not help making the comparison. Fortunately I had not gone too far to recede, and the haughty girl will, I dare say, soon be consoled.
I have not given you a description of Blanche. Shakspeare has anticipated it in these lines—
If lusty Love should go in quest of beauty,
Where should he find it but in Lady Blanche?
She is very fair, with a skin of dazzling loveliness, long dreamy eyes, always moist with emotion, an exquisite smile, a low soft voice—"an excellent thing in woman"—and a wondrous head of hair, which has that bright golden hue which Italians prize so highly—indeed, Firenzuola says, "che de' capelli il proprio e vero colore è esser biondi."
We have all but declared our passion. It has been declared by our eyes, but as yet I have had no favourable opportunity of doing it in form. That she loves me, I am certain; still more certain that I love her. She is the only woman I ever met who would make me happy, and I feel that she will change me into a quiet, domestic being. High time too, seeing that I have squandered my patrimony. However, what with my four thousand pounds, and the handsome dowry Vyner will assuredly give his daughter, we shall be able to live modestly till I can get diplomatic employment. Once his son-in-law, Vyner will be forced to exert his interest in my behalf.
By the way, it is fortunate I have already captured Blanche's affections, for I have certainly lost all Vyner's favour, at least for the present. He was giving me a tedious account of some twaddling notion he had excogitated about Horace's versification, to which I paid all the less attention, as my eyes were then following Blanche, who was engaged in a deep conversation with Captain Heath. Unfortunately I betrayed my inattention, and he has not forgotten it. He is now distant and almost cold in his manner, and never mentions Horace. I must regain his confidence by some splendid emendation. If not, I must trust to Blanche to purchase my forgiveness.
The house is lightened of Mrs. Broughton and her niece, and young Lufton. I regret the last named; he has been useful to me, in losing seventy pounds to me after winning two ponies at billiards.