“Oh! I have thought of all this—I have weighed every thing for and against the course which I long to adopt, but which the interests of my parents oppose——”
Charles paused—dashed his hand against his heated brow—and, rising, paced the room in an agitated manner.
“My lord, this excitement is useless,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “If you will deign to consider me as a friend——”
“I do—I do!” he cried, approaching her, and pressing her shrivelled hand with fervent, but oh! with how mistaken gratitude: “have you not proved yourself my friend? Did you not, though a stranger, contemplate the generous act of revealing to me secrets which you considered as necessary to be known to me? And have you not even now given me advice which is consistent with my interests?”
“Then, if your lordship will thus regard me as a friend, permit me to suggest that you do not on the one hand abandon your determination to assert your rights, nor on the other adopt any course that has not been well deliberated upon. Consider,” said Mrs. Fitzhardinge, “your lordship will have to steel your heart against a father’s prayers—a mother’s tears: you will have to contend against the entreaties of you uncle, the Earl—and of his handsome Jewish wife,—aye—and the beseechings of their daughter too;—for I understand that your lordship has a beautiful cousin——”
“Oh! how many hearts may I not have to break in piling up the fabric of my ambition!” exclaimed Charles Hatfield, his heart once more smiting him severely,—or rather with an anguish that was intolerable.
“Yes—those are the considerations which lie before your lordship,” resumed Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “But you must also reflect, my lord, upon the immense interests you have at stake. Is it better to remain simple Charles Hatfield all your life—or——”
“You need not finish the question, madam,” said the young man, suddenly interrupting the infamous old harridan, and now speaking in a cold tone of desperate resolution. “I must persevere: my destiny is fixed—and even if hearts break in the struggle, I will not shrink from the contest that is to give me my just rights! But let us talk no more of this for the present. May I be permitted to enquire after your charming daughter——”
“You have now, my lord, turned the conversation on the second subject which required discussion between us,” interrupted Mrs. Fitzhardinge. “Perdita has confessed to me all that has taken place between herself and your lordship——”
“And you are doubtless offended!” exclaimed Charles Hatfield, observing that the old lady’s countenance had again become very serious.