He bowed, and said he should do himself the honour of waiting her ladyship’s commands. She passed on quickly towards the hall. Lord William offered his arm to Caroline.
“I must speak to you, Miss Percy—and have but a moment—”
Caroline walked more slowly.
“Thank you, madam—yes, I do thank you. Much pain you have given; but as little as you could. Better now than later. Like yourself—and I thank you for preserving the idea of excellence in my mind in all its integrity—in all—I shall detain you but a moment—you are not impatient?”
“No,” said Caroline, in a tremulous voice; yet for his sake, as well as for the sake of her own consistency, trying to suppress emotion which she thought he might misinterpret.
“Fear not—I shall not misinterpret—I know too well what love is. Speak freely of my sentiments to Lady Jane, when I am gone—her friendship deserves it from me.”
He stopped speaking. “Stay,” said Caroline. “It may give your noble mind some ease to know that my heart was engaged before we ever met.”
He was silent. It was the silence of deep feeling. They came within view of the servants—he walked quietly to the carriage—assisted her into it, pressed her hand—and said in a low voice, “Farewell—for ever.”
The carriage-door was shut.
“Where to, my lady?” said the footman.