Young Henry was evidently more touched by this generosity than by this bounty; and with a gentleness and humility the most feeling he said, “How shall I thank you, sir, for bearing with me as you did?”
“Oh!” said Mr. Gresham, “old as I am, I know what it is to be in love, and can conceive too what it is to fear that a guardian might be cross, and that the executor and the partner of Mr. Panton might act like Mr. Panton himself. Say no more—I understand it all, you see—Go to your Constance.”
Even in the haughtiness and spirit this young man had shown, Mr. Gresham saw the sincerity, strength, and disinterestedness of his affection; and in Mr. Gresham’s estimation these were no trifling merits. We pass over—shall we be forgiven?—the love scenes between Mr. Henry and Constance. In these cases it is well when there is some sober friend to look to the common sense of the thing, and in the midst of the exaltation to do the necessary business of life. Mr. Gresham laid Mr. Panton’s will before counsel learned in the law, took opinions from two different counsel; from Alfred Percy, whose friendship was likely to quicken his attention, and from another barrister of long standing, who, being totally unconnected with the parties might probably give a perfectly unbiassed and dispassionate advice. Both agreed that there was no avoiding the clause in the will; that Miss Panton, if she married a man below the rank of a baron’s son, must give up her fortune to her step-mother at the end of twelve calendar months from the time of her father’s decease; but both barristers gave it as their opinion, that the income during those twelve months belonged to Constance: this was a considerable sum, which, by Mr. Gresham’s advice, was to be vested with the rest of Mr. Henry’s capital in the firm of the house of Panton and Co. In consequence of Mr. Gresham’s earnest recommendation, and of his own excellent conduct and ability, Mr. Henry was from this time joined in the firm, and as one of the partners had a secure income proportioned to his part of the capital, besides a share in the very advantageous speculations in which the house was engaged. Mr. Gresham undertook to supply Mr. Henry’s place at Amsterdam, whither he was under the necessity of going. His house he would leave to Constance during his absence. She had best begin by taking possession of it, and establish herself there, he observed, that she might not have the inconvenience and mortification of being turned out of her own at the end of the year. “And if,” said he, “I should be able, when I return, to make Mr. Henry’s residence with me agreeable to him, I shall hope he will not, while I live, take my Constance quite away from me—I look to her as my chief happiness in life.”
If Rosamond had heard the sigh which closed this speech, and if she had seen the simplicity and delicacy of Mr. Gresham’s generosity on this occasion, she would have reproached herself for refusing him, and would almost have reasoned herself into the belief that she had done very wrong not to marry him; but this belief would only, could only, have lasted till she should see Mr. Temple again: so that, upon the whole, it was best for poor Mr. Gresham that she knew nothing of the matter.
All things being arranged thus in the kindest and most convenient manner by this excellent man, and the day being fixed for the marriage of Constance and Mr. Henry, Caroline was asked to be bride’s-maid, and the honour of Lady Jane Granville’s company was requested. It is inconceivable how much importance Lady Jane attached to the idea of her accepting or refusing this request, and the quantity she talked about it was wonderful! Notwithstanding the habitual theme of her being of no consequence now to any one, of her being utterly forgotten and out of the world, yet she had still a secret, very secret belief, that all she did would be known and commented upon; and she worked herself up to think, also, that the honour to be conferred, or the offence that would be taken in consequence of her decision, would be immortal. Every five minutes for two hours after the first reading of Mr. Gresham’s note, she took it up, laid it down, and argued the matter pro and con to Caroline.
A long and loud knocking at the door came to Caroline’s relief: it was repeated with imperious impatience. “Who is it, my dear? look out of the window, but don’t let yourself be seen.”
Caroline did not know any of the fashionable equipages, which to Lady Jane appeared a great defect in her education: upon this occasion, however, she thought she recollected the livery to be Mrs. Falconer’s.
“Oh! no, my dear, quite impossible—the Falconers have not been near me this age. I will tell you whose livery it is—there is a resemblance, but it is astonishing to me a girl of your sense cannot learn the difference—it is old Lady Brangle’s livery.”
“It might very possibly be so,” Caroline allowed.
The servant however brought in cards and a note from Mrs. Falconer—the note was to announce to Lady Jane Granville the approaching marriage of Miss Falconer with Sir Robert Percy—the day was named, and the honour of Lady Jane Granville’s company was requested at the wedding. Lady Jane knew that this communication was made, not in the least in the kindness, but in the pride of Mrs. Falconer’s heart; and precisely in the same spirit in which it was written Lady Jane thought it incumbent upon her to receive and answer it. Her ladyship was really warm and honest in her friendships, and very grateful to her branch of the Percy family, for the kindness they had shown her in adversity.