It would be an insult, perhaps, to the intelligence of the reader to assume that he or she has not already suspected that Leslie Colville and the encroaching cousin Leslie Wellwood were one and the same person. Apart from his entailed property, he had succeeded to other possessions, requiring him with reference to his peerage claim to add to his own the name of Colville, and hence the incognito he had—for reasons of his own—been enabled to assume to his cousins, to Mrs. Wodrow, and others, including even that very acute party Sir Redmond Sleath. In short, save the minister, no one knew the part he wished to play.
'The little drama from which you promised yourself so much interest, generous and romantic pleasure has been thoroughly overdone,' said Dr. Wodrow, somewhat reproachfully.
'Overdone, indeed!'
'And doubtless has caused, and is causing great pain.'
'Poor girl! Could I have believed that Mary——'
'Possessed so much individuality, decision, and independence of character.'
'Most true; the drama has been overdone, but can be quickly amended by a pleasant epilogue. And it would have been so some days ago but for this wretched accident to my right hand, which prevented me from writing to Mary or to you. Prejudiced, as you know, by my father against them, I wished to learn the real disposition and character of these girls before befriending them, as I intended to do; and, even while learning to love Mary, I carried my romantic schemes too far. Why the devil did we make all this mystery!'
'We. It was your own suggestion and wish—not mine,' said Dr. Wodrow, testily; 'and now they have anticipated everything by going forth into the wide waste of the world and leaving us no clue.'
Colville bit his nether lip, twisted his moustache, and remained silent and perplexed. So the minister spoke again.
'Captain Colville, I feared you meant to go on for ever playing at cross-purposes with the poor girls. How I wish I had interposed, as it was my duty to have done, ere it was too late; but you bound me to secresy, as you know, and now they have gone far away, and with sore, sore hearts, you may be assured.'