“Just now I thought I could not, but I can forgive you, Lionel: I do with all my heart. Do you forgive me? I ought to have waited—I know all that meek and lowly love should have done—but my soul was on fire with my wrongs, my hopes were all cast to the winds; my mother, or rather Mrs. Somerton, taunted me with my folly, and I scarcely knew what I did.”
“God bless you, Amy!—if there be aught to forgive, I forgive you freely. I was anxious that we should both understand each other; that there should be a mutual explanation, a reconciliation, Amy—a restoration of some little of that old love in which we may pray for each other as brother and as sister.”
Amy gave Lionel her hand, as the tears coursed down her cheeks: he took the fair white fingers and pressed them to his lips; and just at that moment a face peered in at the window. It was Richard Tallant; he had come down to Brazencrook, left his luggage at the hotel, and walked over to Montem Castle, smoking a cigar, and revolving his position and prospects in his mind. He had come over to see the Countess on business; he wanted a large advance of money, or some security which would enable him to raise funds. He was in what commercial men call a “cleft stick,” and he would speedily be what they call, in equally significant language, “up a tree.” Not content with a moderate fortune, he had continued his course of speculation, and the tide had turned against him. The bills which he had unwarrantably kept afloat in connection with the Meter Works had been mostly “done” by a discount house which had suddenly failed, and there were large payments to meet without delay. A bank, of which he was a director, grew suspicious of his transactions, and he was called upon by his colleagues to put his accounts straight. Another bank, where he had deposited his Meter shares, suffered from so great a pressure that the manager was compelled to threaten that in two days those shares would be sent into the market for sale. Therefore, without some immediate and extraneous aid, he was a ruined man.
In this fix he determined to seek the assistance of his sister. He had compelled her to help him before, and, what was more, to invite his co-operation in that famous marriage ceremony. He had paid a formal visit to Montem since then, and had not received any further encouragement for keeping up the family connection. But he felt that he had a hold upon the Countess; if she would pay for her secret once, she would pay twice—and she should.
“The ill-mannerly fellow,” said Lionel, as he caught a glimpse of the face in the window.
“It is my brother Richard,” said Amy; “what can he possibly have come here for, without announcement, and evidently on foot, from Brazencrook?”
Lionel left her, and the next moment Richard Tallant sent in his card.
Her ladyship’s reply was, that she was indisposed, and would not be able to see Mr. Tallant at present. He would find Lord Verner in the library.
“Thank you,” was Richard’s reply. “I will take a little walk, and return shortly. I will not disturb his lordship.”
Meanwhile the Countess sought her room, and Lionel called old Morris to pack his trunks that he might leave for London by the morning mail. He felt that it was now really time he should leave Montem Castle for good.