“Ada, do me one favour! Go home at once, and trust to my word of honour that I will not lose sight of him for one moment. The public street is no place for you and him to meet in. For Heaven’s sake, now go home!”
“I—I will—if you wish it,” said Ada. “Oh! He is found—he is found!”
“Take her home through the park, by Spring-gardens,” whispered Sir Francis to his wife. “I wish to have some conversation with this young man, before Ada, with her generous feelings, commits herself too far. I will be home within the hour.”
The magistrate then darted across the road, and followed Albert Seyton closely, as his first object was to see where he lived, provided he was going home, as he, Sir Francis, was not quite satisfied with Albert’s long absence from his office.
CHAPTER XCVI.
Sir Francis Hartleton’s Surprise at Albert’s Place of Destination.—The Watch on the Squires’ House.—Ada’s Disappointment.
When Sir Francis Hartleton darted across the road in order to follow Albert Seyton, his views, with regard to the young man, were to trace him to his house, and then immediately after send for him to his, Sir Francis’s office, by Buckingham-house; and, in a conversation with him, endeavour to come to a more decided opinion than he was at present able to arrive at with respect to the stability of his affection for Ada; for it is not saying too much, when we assert that the interest felt by the magistrate in the welfare and future happiness of the beautiful girl, who was, by so singular a train of circumstances, placed in his care, was equal to that of a fond father for a darling child of his own.
The very romantic circumstances connected with her would have invested Ada with a great interest, even had she been other than what she was; but when in herself, she concentrated all the sweet feminine charms of mind and person which the warmest fancy could suggest, she became, indeed, an object of deep interest to Sir Francis—an interest which amounted to a pure and holy affection.
Her gentleness, and yet her rare courage—her simplicity, and yet her active intellect—her clinging affection and gushing gratitude to those who were kindly disposed towards her, and her utter want of selfishness, all combined to make her such a character as one might dream of, but seldom hope to see realised.
“Her future happiness,” thought Sir Francis, “all depends upon this young man whom I am now following, and I think I have a right to be more careful that Ada, with all her fine noble feelings, is not sacrificed to one who may fail to appreciate the rich treasure he may possess. I will, ere I welcome this Albert Seyton to my house, be well assured that he is deserving of the pure young heart that I am convinced is all his own. One pang is far better for Ada to endure than the years of misery that must ensue from an ill-assorted union.”