“Well, I thought, if you approved, might they not go to Lady Rupert’s; I know she would like it; she is so fond of Gwy—of your sister.”
Hilary raised her eyes, and gave him one look, so penetrating, so steady, that, had he not deserved her confidence, he could not have met the glance.
“Are you in earnest, Lord Dunsmore?”
“Earnest, yes—perfectly so, from my heart! but I do not wonder you ask, after what you saw in my brother!”
Hilary looked down.
“It seems hardly a time to speak of such things now,” continued he, eagerly and rapidly, his pale countenance glowing with emotion; “but yet, perhaps, after all, it might remove distrust and doubt, perhaps lighten your anxiety in some respects, if I am open. Let me tell you, then, my feelings, and see if you will trust me. I do love her, and I do hope to win her. Even before I went to Italy, I preferred her; but then I thought James did too; I thought he was in earnest, so I left; but that as much as other things took me abroad; and when the news reached me of his intended marriage, I own it was a relief
which greatly assisted my recovery. Now I hope some day to gain her affections; and though I and you, and she, know I can not say she is the first object of my love, and I am some years older, perhaps she will not consider these as objections—perhaps I may succeed in time. Now after this, will you let her and Nest come to Lady Rupert’s care?”
“I will talk to Maurice, and—and my husband!” her voice faltered.
“I have been, perhaps, abrupt, Mrs. Hepburn, but circumstances must be my excuse,” added he.
“What will Lady Rupert say?”