The elder daughter of the Trevors came forward and stood looking down at the two figures on the ground. "The Reverend George Rockwell has asked for Lucy's hand. She should be most proud. Come, Lucy, supper is standing, and the wedding's not till to-morrow. Why do you bear yourself like a child? Good God, Lucy, do you fancy a woman ever gets the man she loves?"
CHAPTER IV
Annapolis
The commissioners left Annapolis for Lancaster on the 18th day of June, which was three days earlier than had been originally planned. After their departure Governor Bladen sighed with relief, packed up his black satins and official orders, and hied him to his country-place to recuperate for the fall sessions. By the 1st of July Annapolis was deserted. All of the old families had gone to their summer houses up the river or down the bay, and it was remarked that Dr. Carroll, who chose to stay in town, and Rockwell, whom he sincerely hated, must bear each other company through the summer. But Dr. Charles was not yet reduced to the companionship of a Church-of-England clergyman. He had taken an immense fancy to Claude de Mailly, of whom he saw as much as Claude would let him. Indeed, he had given the Frenchman more than one invitation to leave the tavern of Miriam Vawse to make a permanent abode in his own house, and could not quite understand why he had been refused. But Claude was well satisfied where he was; and had there the indispensable feeling of independence. Few guests ever came to the little tavern after the close of the spring assembly; and, when an occasional traveller did stop overnight, monsieur ate in his room, went to the coffee-house, or remained to make acquaintance of the stranger, as he chose.
On sailing for the English colonies it had been Claude's idea to travel through them, when he arrived, as rapidly as possible, courting what adventure and danger he could, and to keep his thoughts enough occupied to crush, as best he might, his hopeless homesickness. But, after living in Annapolis for a week, he found that it might be a very endurable thing to exist in Annapolis for a year. The air was different, in this new land. New thoughts and new occupations had come, after his illness, and he ended at last by making a very pleasant salute to the Fate which had cast his lines in these places, determining to take the goods which the gods and Miriam Vawse provided (at moderate cost), and remain in the little city till discontent again knocked upon his door. Certainly, he was not lonely. Through Dr. Carroll and Vincent Trevor he had made acquaintance with every gentleman, young or old, in the town. They received him extremely well, though, it must be confessed, some of them balked at his title. "Bah! Every Frencher's a count!" he heard Mr. Chase cry out one morning at the market, and thereafter he requested to be presented simply as M. de Mailly to what men he chanced to meet. Through the influence of Sir Charles he had been given the freedom of the coffee-house, which was really the gentlemen's club; and he was asked to the last assembly of the season, which had taken place just before the departure of the commissioners, and which he did not attend.
Upon an afternoon of the first week of July, Charles Fairfield, wofully bored with the weather and the lack of something to do, rode into town at an early hour with intent to amuse himself at any cost, and a pruriency towards a stiff sangaree as the beginning of matters. The second want drove him down Church Street to the coffee-house. On arriving at the jockey-club-room he found its only occupant to be George Rockwell. The Queen's clergyman greeted him with great urbanity. How well would Rockwell have loved his brethren had all of them been knights, and the eldest sons of wealthy families! The sangaree was quickly forthcoming. He drank with Sir Charles, and Sir Charles drank with him, and they drank together, till the weather was of less importance and spirit acted upon spirit with delightful effect. Then it was that the divine opened a more intimate conversation.
"Charles—my dear Sir Charles—were you aware—ah—of the fact that it is my hope and my intention—my intention, sir—to have the honor, at some day not far distant, of becoming, when two events shall have taken place, your—ah—brother-in-law, as it were?"
"What the—oh yes! Ha! ha! ha! Oh yes! You're after Lucy. To be sure, I recollect. Lucy! Well, George, I wish you well—you know that. But she won't have you."
"Won't have me?—Um. Madam Trevor has all but promised her."
"The more fool Madam Trevor.—Oh, I beg pardon. No offence, sir. But, as I hear, the affections of the lady in question are already engaged."