The person to be least affected by the parental dictate was Mr. Fawnhope. When informed that it would not be possible immediately to send the notice of the betrothal to the society journals, he blinked, and said vaguely, “Were we about to do so? Did you tell me? I might not have been attending. I am in a great worry about Lepanto, you know. It is useless to deny that battle scenes upon the stage are never felicitous, yet how to avoid it? I have been pacing the floor the better part of the night and am no nearer to solving the problem.”
“I must tell you, Augustus, that it is unlikely that we shall be married this year,” said Cecilia.
“Oh, yes, very unlikely!” he agreed. “I don’t think I should think of marriage until the play is off my hands.”
“No, and we must remember that Charles stipulates that you should find some respectable employment before the engagement is announced.”
“That quite settles it, then,” said Mr. Fawnhope. “The question is how far one might, with propriety, employ the methods of the Greek dramatists to overcome the difficulty.”
“Augustus!” said Cecilia, in a despairing tone. “Is your play more to you than I am?”
He looked at her in surprise, perceived that she was in earnest, and at once took her hand, and kissed it, and said, smiling at her, “How absurd you are, my beautiful angel! How could anything or anyone be more to me than my Saint Cecilia? It is for your sake that I am writing the play. Should you dislike the notion of a chorus, in the Greek style?”
Lord Charlbury, finding that his rival continued, even without the excuse of inquiring after Amabel’s condition, to visit in Berkeley Square, took fright, and demanded an explanation of his preceptress. He was driving her down to Merton in his curricle at the time, and when she told him frankly what had occurred, he kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, and for several moments said nothing. At last, with a palpable effort, he produced, “I see. When may I expect to see the announcement?”
“Never,” replied Sophy. “Don’t look so hagged, my dear Charlbury! I assure you there is no need. Poor Cecy has discovered these many weeks that she mistook her own heart!”
At that he turned his head quickly to look at her. “Is this so indeed? Sophy, don’t trifle with me! I own, I had thought — I had hoped — Then I shall try my fortune once more, before it is too late!”