“I can feel for you, and I hope to see this wondrous beauty ere many days have elapsed. You must, till then, be cautious, bold, and resolute. Make this your home until Gray shall come, when I will surely let you know.”
“Sir,” said Albert, in a voice of emotion, “a lifetime of devotion could not express my deep sense of gratitude to you.”
“Heed not that—heed not that; I make you one promise, and that is, that while you live, you shall be my secretary, provided no better fortune arises.”
“What better fortune, sir, can the poor friendless Albert Seyton have, than to enjoy your favour, sir?”
“Well, well, enough of this. You will remain here, of course?”
“I will, sir, if it please you; or I will haunt about the street and door, if my presence here be at all inconvenient.”
“Far from it,” said Learmont. “Believe me, my impatience equals yours.”
Learmont now rose, and Albert Seyton, construing that into a hint to be gone, rose too. The squire rung the bell, and upon the appearance of a servant, he said,—
“See that proper accommodation is provided for this gentleman. He will remain an inmate of the house.”
Albert left the room, and followed the servant into a comfortable apartment, which commanded a pretty view of the garden.