"If my observation has not deceived me, he shares, in common with many men of talent—a belief in a feeling warmer than friendship, but colder and more spiritual than love. I once knew a man, in fact, who carried on such a flirtation, for I can give it no other name, with a very superior, enthusiastic girl, but when every one expected him to propose to her in form, she heard of his marriage with a woman of the most ordinary understanding, but who, I dare say, made him a very good wife. As I was attached to him, I ventured to remonstrate with him on his conduct. In excuse, he brought so many really flimsy and poetical apologies, and proofs of the pure minded nature of his attachment, that though they appeared to me in their right light, they yet convinced me that he had not intended wrong, but that his vanity had led him astray, into the belief that he could be the object of an admiration superior to love; altogether foolish, but he was sincere, I believe. When I last heard of the poor girl she was sinking in a decline. Now I suspect Beauclerc to be such another as I have described, and I want you to see if you can make Lucy aware of it." "But you must first judge for yourself, and no such opportunity is likely to occur again, as you might not like to go out."
"You set me a difficult task; the more difficult, because Lucy has seemed so estranged from me lately."
"Ah, that reminds me of something else, I had to say. Do you happen to have met Miss Foster, a beautiful girl, one of the most striking women in Bath?"
"No, but I have heard Lucy speak of her."
"Yes, so she used to do, most enthusiastically; and her beauty, if nothing more, deserved admiration. I remember meeting her in the park—she was sitting down, and, as I afterwards learnt, had sprained her ankle. She looked so near fainting, that I did not hesitate to dismount—(for I was riding)—and offer her my assistance. After a little persuasion she gave me her direction and suffered me to place her on my horse, which I carefully led to her house, in the Circus. The grace with which she accepted my services, and the reserve with which she withdrew from my attentions, when they were no longer required, excited some curiosity in me; but, though I was repeatedly congratulated for such a singular opportunity of meeting the mysterious beauty, I am afraid I must confess that I was never able to improve the acquaintance. Now, lately, she has withdrawn entirely from society, and, indeed, up-stairs there is a polite note from her, declining Mrs. Villars' invitation for to-night. I have heard it frequently remarked that she is never seen out of doors, though some of her professed admirers have been anxiously watching for her. Lucy seems entirely to have forgotten her, and colored violently when I asked for her, the other day."
"A long string of evidence," said Mabel, with a half smile, "now tell me how you connect Miss Foster, with Lucy and Mr. Beauclerc."
"Why, she was at an evening party the day before he arrived in Bath, and has not been seen since; but this would be nothing perhaps had not my groom—who, one morning, took my horses to air, through the Circus—seen him call at her house, early, and thought, that when he was denied, he turned away with disappointment. I immediately ordered him to air the horses every morning in the Circus, though certainly not the best place for them, which I might have chosen. However, the result of his information is, that almost every day, before the fashionable world is stirring, Beauclerc calls on Miss Foster, and is as strictly denied. To me, this looks suspicious, and Beauclerc seems carrying on a double game."
"Perhaps she is only some relation, and he calls to leave the morning paper," said Mabel.
"Well, only judge for yourself, if he is sincere with Lucy; if you think he is, we will leave them to themselves, but if not, the poor girl should be warned before her affections are too deeply implicated."
"Yes, I will appear to-night," said Mabel.