Ormond saw and seized upon a letter in Lady Armaly’s hand, directed to him. Tore it open—two notes—one from Florence.
“I forgive you!” said he to the man, and made a sign to him to leave the room.
When Ormond had read, or without reading had taken in, by one glance of the eye, the sense of the letters—he rang the bell instantly.
“Inquire at the post-office,” said he to his servant, “whether Lady Annaly is in England or Ireland?—If in England, where?—if in Ireland, whether at Annaly or at Herbert’s Town? Quick—an answer.”
An answer was quickly brought, “In England—in Devonshire, sir: here is the exact direction to the place, sir. I shall pack up, I suppose, sir?”
“Certainly—directly.”
Leaving a few lines of explanation and affection for Dr. Cambray, our young hero was off again, to the surprise and regret of all who saw him driving away as fast as horses could carry him. His servant, from the box, however, spread as he went, for the comfort of the deploring village, the assurance that “Master and he would soon be back again, please Heaven!—and happier than ever.”
And now that he is safe in the carriage, what was in that note of Miss Annaly’s which has produced such a sensation? No talismanic charm ever operated with more magical celerity than this note. What were the words of the charm?
That is a secret which shall never be known to the world.
The only point which it much imports the public to know is probably already guessed—that the letter did not contain a refusal, nor any absolute discouragement of Ormond’s hopes. But Lady Annaly and Florence had both distinctly told him that they could not receive him at Annaly till after a certain day, on which they said that they should be particularly engaged. They told him that Colonel Albemarle was at Annaly—that he would leave it at such a time—and they requested that Mr. Ormond would postpone his visit till after that time.