[CHAPTER IX.]
Yet must my soul unveiled to thee be shown,
And all its dreams and all its passions known,
Thou shalt not be deceived, for pure as Heaven,
Is thy young love in faith and fervour given.
Hemans.
What a breakfast they had next morning! Mabel agitated; Lucy frightened and silent; and the rest tired and wofully cross.
If Caroline had looked most beautiful the night before, she was now quite the reverse. Some indeed say, that there were lines made by passion on her face, which never quite wore away again, but grew deeper as she grew older. However this may be, there she sat that morning, looking, every minute, ready to break out afresh with some bitter remark, should occasion offer; particularly, as, under the impression of happy circumstances, Mabel's countenance seemed to grow more and more beautiful.
Colonel Hargrave, the servant told them, had taken his breakfast with Mr. Villars, and had since gone out.
This was a momentary relief to Caroline, it seemed like coldness or inconstancy; and whenever she saw Mabel's eyes turn anxiously to the door, she caught the glance, and returned it with one of malicious exultation. At length, however, he came in, looking so happy, that all her short-lived triumph was over.
Gently, and unobtrusively pressing Mabel's hand, and bidding the others good morning, with cheerfulness which was not responded to—he told her, that he had been to place a letter, written by her uncle, in the hands of the Weymouth coachman, for Mrs. Noble, and that he had received many promises of its safe delivery.
Mabel thanked him, and waited anxiously for even a ceremonious invitation from her aunt to remain with them, but none came, and no one spoke. Lucy, vexed and ashamed, stole away, and her sisters remained, in perfect silence, secretly determined to put the lovers out of countenance. Mabel could scarcely believe how very happy and how very uncomfortable she felt at that moment.
"I came in partly to ask you to take a short stroll with me, Mabel," said Hargrave, turning to his betrothed, and looking, in truth, rather impatient to be gone.