“Ah! It is a sad tale—and I dare not venture upon the narration now,” said the Marquis, with a profound sigh. “But should our acquaintance continue—as I ardently hope it may—I will some day give you the fullest and most ample explanations. And you yourself, charming creature—is there not some mystery attached to you? How happens it that at your age you should be so well acquainted with the world?—how is it that you seem free to follow the bent of your own inclinations, uncontrolled even by your mother? For rumour declares that you have a mother alive——”
“I am independent of her in a pecuniary point of view, my lord,” interrupted Laura; “and I am determined to consult my own ideas of happiness, instead of adopting the standard of enjoyment and pleasure established by the fashionable world.”
“Would to heavens that it lay in my power to ensure your happiness—or even to contribute to it!” exclaimed the Marquis, gazing upon her with admiration and ardent passion. “Long years have elapsed since I encountered any woman who inspired me with even half the interest that I feel in you; and it seems to me that I become young again when in your sweet society.”
“And, on my side,” answered Laura, casting down her eyes and assuming a bashful demeanour, “I do not hesitate to admit that I experience greater enjoyment from your conversation than from that of any other nobleman or gentleman with whom I am acquainted.”
“Just now, my sweet Miss Mortimer,” said the Marquis, approaching still nearer to her, and speaking in a tone that was low and tremulous with emotion,—“just now you declared that ‘all the rest you might listen to’——”
“And I do not attempt to revoke the admission that thus fell from my lips,” murmured the designing young woman, turning a glance of half-timidity and half-fondness upon the old nobleman, who, in spite of a strong and vigorous intellect, was rendered childish and plunged as it were into dotage by the fascinating—ravishing influence of the syren-enchantress.
“What am I to understand by those words?” he asked, in an ecstacy of delight. “Oh! is it possible that you can become something more to the old man than a mere acquaintance—something more than even a friend——”
“I could wish to retain your good opinion—your esteem for ever!” said Laura, now turning upon him a countenance radiant with hope and joy.
“It is scarcely possible—I am dreaming—’tis a delicious delusion—a heavenly vision!” murmured the Marquis in broken sentences,—for he was dazzled by the transcendant beauty of the houri who seemed to encourage him in the aspirations which he had formed.
“Is it, then, so extraordinary that I should have learnt to love one who is so kind—so generous-hearted—so intellectual as yourself?” asked Laura, leaning towards him so that her fragrant breath fanned his countenance and her forehead for an instant touched his own.