—"No, you forget the gradations which exist in that career—do you treat as nothing the certainty of promotion—of rising to be a dignitary of the church—a dean—a bishop, perhaps—becoming at once a member of the Upper House? Has ambition no charms—no hold upon your mind?"
"My ambition would never prompt me to wish to rise through my wife—I could not submit to that."
"Hard-hearted, cruel man!—and has love, ardent love, no charms for you?—it is true I cannot offer you the first bloom of youth, but have I no traces of former beauty—no charm which can influence you or soften your heart—has not the uncontrollable though melancholy love which actuates me—has that no power over your affections?"
She paused, and Mr. Howard hesitated a moment how to answer, then firmly but respectfully replied,
"If I understand your ladyship aright, and I think I cannot now misunderstand, you pay me the highest compliment, but one which is quite undeserved by me. Highly as I feel honoured, however, I cannot change my feelings, or alter the sentiments which I have already expressed. My mind was made known to you, before yours was to me, and to vary now from what I then said might well cause you to doubt my sincerity, and could give no satisfaction to your ladyship."
He stopped abruptly; he wanted to say something indicative of gratitude and respect; but the disgust which he felt at her proceedings, prevented the words coming naturally. She, the mother of a married daughter and a grown up son, to be making proposals to a man so much her junior in age, and in every way unsuited for her—really, he could not command the expressions which, perhaps, politeness and a sense of the compliment paid him required. He rose and appeared about to leave her, but she rose likewise, and said with a look which betrayed indignation struggling with other feelings:
"No, do not leave me thus—reflect before you thus madly throw away the advantages I offer you—consider the enmity you provoke—calculate the depth of my wrath and the extent of my power. Refuse me, and there is no effort to injure you which I will not practise to revenge myself—you shall bitterly rue this day, if you affront me thus!"
"I cannot vary from my answer; your ladyship may excite my gratitude by your kindness but neither my love nor my fears are to be raised by promises or menaces. On this subject I must be, apparently, ungrateful; but when the temporary delusion which now influences you has passed away, you will, doubtless, rejoice that I am firm to-day. I must leave you."
"Leave me, then; and let me never see that insidious face again, ungrateful monster; to throw my benefits from you—to reject my advances. Is my condescension to be thus rewarded? But I debase myself by talking to you—leave me—begone!—and take only my enmity with you as your portion."
The lady seemed struggling with vehement emotions, which almost choked her; and knowing she was occasionally attacked with dangerous fits, Mr. Howard hesitated about leaving her alone. By a gesture of her hand, however, she repulsed his offer to approach her; he therefore, slowly withdrew, and his mind was relieved of anxiety for her by seeing her maid enter the room before he had descended the stairs. He then hurried away, and tried, by walking very quickly through the most retired paths in Kensington Gardens, to soothe his feelings and tranquillize his mind.