"I should only be too willing under happier circumstances. But you cannot imagine how uncomfortable is the feeling of knowing that I am intruding here in opposition to the wish of Lady Chandos."
"Lady Chandos does not blame you for it; be assured of that. And I can tell you my mother has other things to think of just now than of you—or Emily either. Will you try and make yourself contented?"
"You must please not say any more, Mr. Chandos. If I had nowhere else to go to, it would be a different thing; but I have Miss Barlieu's house."
"And suppose you had not that? Would you make yourself contented and stay?"
"Yes," I said, rashly.
"Then be happy from this moment. Miss Barlieu's house is a barred one to you at present."
Something like a leap of joy seemed to take my heart. His tone of truth was not to be mistaken.
"Lady Chandos had a note from Miss Annette on Saturday," he said, his beautiful truthful eyes fixed on my face with the same steady earnestness that they had been all along. "Amidst other news it contained the unpleasant tidings that fever had broken out at Nulle; one of their young ladies had been seized with it, and was lying very ill; and another was sickening."
"Oh, Mr. Chandos!"
"So you see we should not allow you to go there just now. Neither would the Miss Barlieus receive you. As my mother observed, that news settled the question."