A very cheerless proceeding.
‘Undoubtedly,’ replied Mr. Wallis. He could offer that modicum of encouragement with perfect safety, and he was well pleased to have the opportunity of doing so. ‘Believe me, young lady,’ he went on with earnest gentleness, ‘that it would give me the sincerest gratification to find your confidence justified by the result.’
Then he sat down, indifferent-eyed, but with a pretence of interest, to the Profession that Mr. Erin had spread out upon the table. It was a cheerless proceeding. The very exhibitor himself, it was plain, had but little heart for the performance; instead of expatiating with an unction that might well have been called ‘extreme’ on the precious revelation, he only put in a word or two. If he had apprehensions such as he had never before experienced of a visitor’s criticism, they were, however, unfounded. Mr. Wallis perhaps did not think it worth while to make objections, since a few more minutes at most must needs see the imposture out; it would have been like quarrelling with a man upon his deathbed. He even allowed that the document was ‘interesting,’ though, as he made the observation to Margaret and not to her uncle, it is probable that it rather expressed his wish to please her than his real sentiments. His position was somewhat similar to that of Eloise when taking the veil.
Yet then to those dread altars as I drew,
Not on the Cross my eyes were fixed, but you,
Not grace, nor zeal, love only was my call.
For though, of course, the old lawyer was not in love with Margaret, he had a much greater admiration for her than for the sacred relic. Still, in spite of himself, habit induced him to give some considerable attention to the document; even if it was a forgery it was curious, and, at all events, anything was better than sitting with his hands before him watching those uncomfortable faces. That of Mr. Samuel Erin was at present particularly so, for his visitor’s eye was travelling towards the ‘leaffee tree,’ a weak point, which he felt under the circumstances in a very ill condition to defend, when suddenly there was a knock at the door.
‘There is Willie!’ cried Margaret, starting to her feet.
She felt assured, since so short a time had elapsed, that he had found his friend of the Temple at home; but what was the news he had brought with him?
One glance at the young fellow as he entered the room was sufficient for her. It was good news.
The eye of love is an auger that can pierce the heart, if not the soul; but to the other members of the party William Henry’s face told nothing. It did not indeed wear the expression of defeat, but still less did it exhibit triumph or exultation. It had the same quiet, almost indifferent air that it habitually wore when the Shakespearean discoveries were under discussion; but the pallor which anxiety had caused in it when he left the house upon his apparently hopeless errand was gone; with a quiet smile he drew forth a paper from his pocket, and handed it to Mr. Wallis.