“No—I am not offended with you,” returned Fanny, now casting down her eyes and blushing even more deeply than before: “but I fear—I tremble lest I am doing wrong thus to listen to you——”
“A virtuous affection is no crime,” said the young man, hastily. “And now, my dearest Frances, if you feel that you can love me, I will at once declare to your noble parents the attachment—the deep attachment which I experience towards you.”
“Whatever my father and mother counsel, will become a law for me,” answered Lady Frances, in a low and tremulous tone, which convinced the suitor that he was not indifferent to her.
Charles pressed her hand to his lips, and hurried from the room with the intention of immediately seeking the Earl of Ellingham; but in the passage he encountered a domestic who gave him a note which had just been left by a messenger. The address was in an elegant female hand; and the word “Private” was written in the corner. Charles hastened to his own apartment, and read the note, the contents of which ran as follow:——
“My dearest Friend,—Before you see my mother again, I must have a few words with you in private. She is compelled to visit her solicitor at mid-day, and will be absent for at least two hours. I shall expect you as soon after twelve as possible.
“PERDITA FITZHARDINGE.”
“No—I will not accept the invitation!” exclaimed the young man, aloud: then, gazing again at the note, he murmured, “What a charming hand-writing—and how beautiful does her mystic and romantic name appear upon paper! Perdita!—’tis a name which possesses an irresistible attraction! But—oh! that dream! And yet it was but a dream—and a very silly dream, the more I contemplate it. Heavenly warnings are not sent by such means; and Lady Frances might as well have been the subject of the vision as Perdita. What can she require with me? She must have a few words with me in private before I see her mother again. Then her mother expects and intends to have an interview with me—and she must therefore have certain communications to make, after all. This does not appear like delusion nor trickery:—no—the old lady really has matters of import to discuss with me;—and I should be wrong—I should perhaps be criminally neglectful of my own interests, were I not to hear whatever she may have to state. And, Perdita—it would be at least rude and ungentlemanly on my part not to attend to this missive, the nature of which appears to be urgent. Yes—I will call on Perdita: ’tis already verging close upon mid-day—and there is no time to be lost. But—after all that has passed between dear Frances and myself this morning—I shall be as distant and reserved as politeness will admit: I shall arm myself against the fascinations of the syren;—and if she offer to release me from the pledge of friendship so inconsiderately given, I shall not fail to accept with joy the proposed emancipation.”
But, before he repaired to Suffolk Street, did he not seek his father to communicate to him the important fact that he had duly followed his counsel and solicited the hand of Lady Frances?—or did he not obtain an interview with the Earl and acquaint him with the nature of the conversation which had taken place between himself and that nobleman’s daughter?
Alas! no:—for it was close upon twelve when the young man received Perdita’s note;—and he thought that it did not precisely signify for an hour or two when he might make those statements; whereas it was necessary to see the syren without delay.
Thus reasoned Charles Hatfield to himself;—and the reader will agree with us in deciding that the necessity which constituted the excuse for his conduct, was not quite so urgent as he chose to fancy it.
Moreover,—since Charles Hatfield resolved to appear as reserved and formal as he well might be, towards Perdita,—it was assuredly strange that he should devote more than usual attention to his toilette, arranging his hair in the most becoming style, and surveying with inward satisfaction his very handsome countenance in the mirror.