"I must apologise for keeping you waiting, my Lord, so long."
"Not at all, Mr. Ravensworth, not at all, I have not been a minute. Step in and I will drive you to the church. Is that your son?" pointing to Johnny, who had crept after his father.
"My son, Johnny."
"Jump in, my boy, you will like a ride too," continued the stranger.
Johnny jumped in, hardly knowing where he was; the talismanic word "my Lord" had not escaped his ears, and he did not know how to thank his Lordship, so he thought silence was his best policy. He felt not a little proud also as he swept by and past several schoolfellows at the turning of the road. They in their turn stared at him not a little. While they are driving we must return to Ellen, who had been much surprised to see them drive off; she stole down stairs to see if she could find out who he was. On the hall table lay a card—could she believe her eyes?—there it was neatly engraved "Earl of Wentworth." It is like an intervention of Providence, thought the romantic girl, as she ran with the card upstairs to her own room, and in the giddiness of her first excitement actually pressed it to her lips. He had touched it! She had seen him too, as he turned round to welcome her father and brother,—she had seen the noble countenance, the stately form,—he was the embodying of her airy thoughts, the reality of all her day-dreams. One glance was all she took, but that glance, momentary as the lightning flash, yet terrific in its effects as the bolt of heaven, seemed to have scorched her very heart. That moment had done the work of years, and she felt that eternity was itself too short "to efface the blight and blackening which it left behind."
By this time our party had entered the church, and the Earl had at once set his fancies on a large square pew, curiously enough facing the one Mr. Ravensworth occupied. Of course he knew nothing of this, though great events sprang from that chance. Lord Wentworth said he should send a carpenter to do it up a little, and he then drove them back to Seaview, and dropped them with a "Good-bye, Mr. Ravensworth—good-bye, Johnny, my boy! I will call then next Saturday, same hour, and see how I like the improvements."
"How provoked Lennox will be at missing this," thought Mr. Ravensworth as he entered his house; "we shall never hear the end of his chance prediction."
True to his word, Mr. Lennox looked in upon them that evening, and at once inquired who the stranger was.
"You were right, Lennox; who do you think it was?"
"I am sure I cannot tell; one of the Duke's sons?"