For three weeks, consecutively, this order of things continued; and only once, during that period, did Sir John meet Sir Foster within the domain of Wetheral; which was, of course, attributed to an anxiety to see his daughter. Under that impression, Sir John hastened to do him honour; and, on the morning in question, he ushered Sir Foster into the boudoir himself, with the politeness and consideration due to a gentleman, and a fond father visiting a beloved child.
Astonishment was depicted in his countenance, when he beheld his guest, sans céremonie, take possession of the lounging chair, and, after placing his hat upon a work-table, begin, as was his wont, to hum an air and tap his boot, without offering a word of compliment, or even addressing the daughter he had ridden four miles to see. There was something extraordinary, he fancied, in the quiet smile bestowed upon Sir Foster by Lady Wetheral, and he was much displeased at Miss Kerrison's sudden movement to examine her father's pockets, without bestowing a word of filial obeisance to a parent she had not seen for some weeks; yet did the truth escape his unsuspicious mind. It never entered into his heart to believe his expressed resolutions were unheeded. His good taste was shocked at the style of Sir Foster's entrance into a lady's sitting-room, and he did not remain to endure its continuance. He retired again to his study; secure, at least, that such a man could never propitiate Clara, however strongly his lady's wishes might point that way.
So far all things combined again to favour Lady Wetheral's plans and hopes. It seemed as though Fortune went hand in hand with her thoughts, and that Fate set his seal upon her wish. Sir Foster's constant visits produced much remark, and prepared the way for her last stroke—a stroke which was to end all further suspense, and decide for ever the happy fortunes of Clara. Every event led the way gently and surely. Sir Foster had walked into the net with his own free will: he came each day to Wetheral, uninvited; and her ladyship could affirm, most seriously and truly, that no effort had been employed on her side to coerce Sir Foster's intentions. He had not even been asked to dinner. He had never been alone with Clara. If he came to visit his daughter, a parent possessed a right to demand admittance any where; but no attractions had been held out to allure him—no second-hand influence detained him. Sir Foster came without invitation, and remained without any inducements beyond his own pleasure. Sir Foster, therefore, prepared his own destiny; for Lady Wetheral, anxious to preserve her daughter's peace of mind, thought it now high time to understand upon what terms they were in future to meet.
To be so very regularly at Wetheral—to sit with herself and daughter daily, uninvited, and without inquiring for Sir John—wore an appearance which the world could express only in its conventional language, as "paying his addresses to Miss Wetheral." Young ladies had feelings, which must be cared for; they had sensibility, which should not be wounded with impunity. There was a part which every parent should act with firmness towards a young girl, whose affections were trifled with; and she would undertake the painful task of leading Sir Foster to explain his sentiments, herself. Clara was to engage Miss Kerrison, the following morning, in a walk round the garden, at the hour of Sir Foster's visit; and Lady Wetheral would soon penetrate his intentions. If all went well, the window of the boudoir was to be thrown open; in which case, Clara was to appear as by accident. If Sir Foster was very resolute and ungallant, all would remain closed; but she would not allow a doubt, in her own mind, to arise upon the subject.
At breakfast, on the eventful morning, Lady Wetheral issued her orders to the butler—
"When Sir Foster Kerrison comes, show him into the drawing-room."
Sir Foster was shown into the drawing-room, accordingly.
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON:
F. SHOBERL, JUN., 51, RUPERT STREET, HAYMARKET,
PRINTER TO H. R. H. PRINCE ALBERT.