CHAPTER XII IDRIS DECLARES HIS LOVE
How long should a man have known a woman before venturing upon a proposal of love? Such was the question now occupying the mind of Idris.
He had seen Mademoiselle Rivière three times only: he had not spent above seven hours in her presence: yet had they been seven hundred instead of seven he knew that his feeling for her would be no stronger at the end of that time than at the beginning. The moon might have its period of crescent and wane: not so his love: its circle was full and complete from the first moment of his setting eyes upon her.
She was now the sole object of his thoughts. All other matters: the quest for his father, the problem of the Viking's skull, were relegated to the dim and distant future; what were they compared with the winning of Lorelie?
He found himself continually dwelling upon her manner towards him at the moment of their last parting. He was uncertain whether she was startled only, or vexed, by his act of gallantry; whether he must draw hope or despair from that event; and he knew not which was the wiser course—to declare his love at once, or to defer the proposal till he had gained a greater hold upon her affections. A too premature avowal might be disastrous: on the other hand to be dilatory might lead to his being forestalled by Viscount Walden.
This latter argument prevailed with him, and he resolved to see Lorelie at once, and take the momentous step of giving utterance to his feelings. Even rejection was preferable to the state of suspense in which he was now living.
On presenting himself at The Cedars he was told by the maid who opened the door that her mistress was out. Where had she gone? The maid was not certain, but she fancied that "Ma'amzelle" had said something about spending the afternoon in Ravenhall Park.
Accordingly Idris betook himself to this park, a large extent of which was open to the public: and after a short search he found Lorelie seated within a charming recess formed by dark rocks overhung with blossoming foliage. She was holding in her hand a small writing-pad, upon which lay some sheets of manuscript that she was apparently correcting and annotating with a pencil, doubtless putting some emendatory touches to her drama, The Fatal Skull.
The place, though picturesque, was hardly the ideal spot for his love-avowal, since it was within sight of the majestic towers of Ravenhall, which, in Idris' opinion, offered a very powerful argument in favour of Lord Walden's suit.