Count Altenberg “would not presume to ask a favour, which had been refused to the commissioner and to Mrs. Falconer.” Caroline understood, and gave him credit for his politeness.
“Then, if I must give up this point,” said the commissioner, “at least do not let me return disappointed in every respect—let me hope that you will all favour us with your company at our play.”
This invitation was accepted with many thanks.
“And, remember, you must not run away from us that night,” added the commissioner. “Mrs. Falconer will have reason to be jealous of Clermont-park, if she finds that it draws our friends and relations away from Falconer-court.”
The carriage, which had been ordered to the great gate of the park, was now waiting there, and the commissioner took leave of his relations, with many shakes of the hand and many expressions of regret. Count Altenberg continued talking to Caroline till the last moment; and after he had handed her into the carriage, as he took leave of Mr. Percy, he said that he had to thank him and his family for some of the most agreeable among the many agreeable hours he had passed since he came to England.
On their way home, this happy family-party eagerly talked over every thing and every body that had interested them—first and chiefly they spoke of Count Altenberg. Caroline said how often, during their walk, she had regretted her mother’s and sister’s absence. She recollected and reminded her father of some of the striking circumstances they had heard, and Mr. Percy and she repeated so many curious and interesting anecdotes, so many just observations and noble sentiments, that Mrs. Percy and Rosamond were quite charmed with the Count. Rosamond, however, was surprised by the openness and ease with which Caroline praised and talked of this gentleman.
“I will say nothing,” thought she; “for I am determined to be prudent this time. But certainly here is no danger that her love should unsought be won. Only this I may and must think, that Caroline cannot, without affectation, avoid seeing that she has made a conquest.”
Mistaken again, Rosamond—Caroline had neither seen nor suspected it. Count Altenberg’s gratitude for the hospitality shown to his countrymen at the time of the shipwreck, his recent acquaintance with her brother Alfred, and all he had heard of her father from the grateful tenants at Percy-hall, accounted, as Caroline justly thought, for the eagerness he had shown to be introduced to her family. His conversing so much with her, she thought, was natural, as he was a stranger to most of the company, and had some subjects of conversation in common with her and her family. Caroline was not apt to imagine admiration in every word or look; she was not expert in construing every compliment into a declaration or an innuendo of love.
His conversation, during their walk, had been perfectly free from all compliment. It had been on subjects so interesting, that she had been carried on without having had time to think of love. A good and great character had opened to her view, and she had been so absorbed in sympathy, that though she had thought of nothing but Count Altenberg, she had never thought of him with any reference to herself.
The morning after their return home, Count Altenberg came to the Hills, accompanied by Mr. Temple. They stayed till it was late; for the Count seemed to forget the hour of the day, till reminded of it by Mr. Temple. Caroline, in her own family, at her home, pleased Count Altenberg particularly. The interest he felt about her increased, and he afterwards took or made frequent opportunities of calling at the Hills: his conversation was generally addressed to Mr. Percy, but he observed Caroline with peculiar attention—and Rosamond was confirmed in her opinion. A few weeks passed in this manner, while the play was preparing at Falconer-court. But before we go to the play, let us take a peep behind the scenes, and inquire what is and has been doing by the Falconer family. Even they who are used to the ennui subsequent to dissipation, even they who have experienced the vicissitudes of coquetry, the mortifications of rivalship, and the despair of disappointed vanity, can scarcely conceive the complication of disagreeable ideas and emotions with which Miss Georgiana Falconer awoke the morning after the magnificent ball.