“And now, Mrs. Gifford,” observed Mr. Vernon, “I have one more question to ask you:—has that young gentleman who once dared to ask Jane to deliver a note to my daughter—has he ventured into this neighbourhood since?”
“I must confess, sir,” was the answer, “that I have seen him loitering about the cottage on one or two occasions: but as he never seeks to obtrude himself upon the notice of Miss Agnes, I have not thought it worth while, nor even prudent, to suggest to the dear young lady what course she ought to pursue in case he should address her. Besides, he appears to be a gentleman in every sense of the word; and I do not apprehend any rudeness on his part towards your daughter. Indeed, he appeared much humiliated and very penitent when Jane so resolutely refused to become the bearer of his missive or to receive his bribe.”
“You have acted with prudence: it would be unwise to make any observation to Agnes relative to this stranger, under present circumstances,” said Mr. Vernon. “Were you to speak to her on the subject, you must necessarily explain the nature of that sentiment which has attracted the young gentleman to this neighbourhood—and to talk to her relative to the passion of love, were to destroy some portion of that artless innocence—that infantine purity of soul, which characterises her. In a word, I trust my dear child to your care and discretion, Mrs. Gifford;—and I shall expect that you will write to me at least once a week during my absence.”
Mr. Vernon then wrote upon a slip of paper the address where letters would reach him in Paris; and, having next placed a roll of bank notes in Mrs. Gifford’s hands for the expenses of the little establishment until his return, he took his departure.
CHAPTER CLXII.
LAURA IN PARIS.
We must now return for a short time to the beautiful, but licentious and profligate Laura, whom we left in Paris.
Although she reckoned materially upon her mother’s aid in respect to her new designs, she nevertheless resolved to enjoy herself during the old woman’s absence; and the thought even struck her that it was possible—though not very probable—for her to form some brilliant connexion without the assistance of her parent. At all events, she reasoned that there was no harm in making the trial; and therefore, the moment Mrs. Mortimer had taken her departure for England, Laura commenced her preparations for pleasure, and perhaps for intrigue.
She hired a private box at each of the principal theatres, and purchased a handsome carriage and a pair of beautiful horses; and then she engaged a celebrated artist to paint her portrait, well knowing that his studio was frequented by men of rank and fortune, and calculating that a view of the splendid countenance on the canvass would inspire the liveliest curiosity to behold the living original. She likewise secured the services of an eminent musician to give her lessons in the divine art; and this gentleman, believing her to be highly respectable, introduced her to his wife, and invited her to a musical soirée, where her beauty and the report which had been spread to the effect that she was an heiress who had just succeeded to her property, rendered her the centre of attraction.
By the means just enumerated, Laura gained one grand object—an entrance into respectable society; and this difficult point was accomplished in less than four days after her mother’s departure from Paris.