“What can be done, when our sweetest Lizzie goes a Willing Sacrifice to the Altar?” said Charlotte in a hollow voice.
“Trials! Sacrifice!” exclaimed Mrs Maulfrey. “Lord, one would think Rule an ogre to listen to you! You put me out of all patience, Charlotte. A house in Grosvenor Square, and Meering, which I am told is quite superb, the park seven miles about, and three lodge-gates!”
It will be a great position,” said the little governess in her breathless way. “But who should fill it better than dear Miss Winwood? One has always felt that she was destined for a high place.”
“Pho!” said Horatia scornfully, and snapped her fingers. “ That for Rule’s great p-position!”
“Miss Horatia, I beg of you, not that ungenteel gesture!”
Charlotte came to the support of her sister. “You should not snap your fingers, Horry, but you are quite in the right. Lord Rule does very well for himself in getting a Winwood for his bride.”
Meanwhile Miss Winwood, pausing only for a moment on the staircase to calm the agitation which the news of Mr Heron’s arrival had induced, went down to the library on the ground floor of the house.
Here there awaited her a young man in a state of greater agitation than her own.
Mr Edward Heron, of the 10th Foot, at present in America, was stationed in England on Recruiting Service. He had been wounded at the Battle of Bunker’s Hill, and sent home shortly afterwards, his wound being of a serious enough nature to preclude his taking further part—for a time at least—in the hostilities abroad. Upon his recovery he was gazetted, greatly to his chagrin, for Home Service.
The acquaintance between himself and Miss Winwood was of long standing. The younger son of a country gentleman whose estates marched with Viscount Winwood’s, he had known the Misses Winwood almost from the hour of his birth. He was of excellent if impoverished family, and had he been the possessor of a rather large fortune might have been deemed an eligible though not brilliant match for Elizabeth.