Amy could understand the covert sarcasm of Lionel’s reply, but his lordship laughed and said:
“I knew you could not guess. I tried much more likely presents than those, without avail. Guess again.”
“Books of poems bound in gold, full of legends of love and constancy.”
“No—you’ll never guess. What do you think of the Barton Hall Estate for a wedding present?”
Lionel hesitated and looked at Amy, who had taken her husband’s arm and was walking quietly by his side.
“I am not joking. What do you think of a woman who presents to her friend Barton Hall, and the lands surrounding it, chiefly on account of the dear associations connected with it, and all that sort of thing?”
“Why, that she is a truly noble woman, and worthy to be the wife of Earl Verner,” said Hammerton, with genuine enthusiasm.
“Thank you, brother—thank you,” said the Countess, with tears in her eyes, and something of the tender expression of those past days which Lionel was honestly trying to blot out for ever.
“Why, my darling, there are tears in your eyes,” said his lordship.
“Tears of joy and gratitude,” said Amy; “gratitude for your kindness, and joy that your brother thinks me worthy to be your wife.”