CHAPTER XX.
In vain had our heroine, when Sir Willoughby had asked her to waltz, pleaded the same excuse alluded to in our last chapter. Lady Palliser, who was near, and heard Sir Willoughby's request, interfered, and commanded compliance; while poor Caroline, who seems to have been born but to be the victim of her mother's caprices, was led away to join the gay circle, trembling and broken-hearted.
The report that Willoughby's marriage had been broken off was quite true: he had written the account to Alfred a day or two before. The lady had the very day previous to that fixed for the wedding eloped with her former lover; while Sir Willoughby had found himself, his preparations being all made, in rather an absurd situation.
The newspapers, too, had taken unwarrantable liberties with his name, and made some witty comments on the superior personal attractions of his rival.
His vanity it was which had in the first instance been gratified—his vanity now suffered proportionately. And so irritable was his temper and so depressed his spirits, on his arrival in Cheltenham, that Alfred, who had but just returned from his interview with Caroline, felt that it would be mistimed to mention her, or allude at all at present to his own happier prospects. He limited the confidential conversation, therefore, to kind condolence with his brother, being too delicate to remind Willoughby that he might have escaped this mortification had he taken his advice.
Thus was the foundation unintentionally laid of a concealment which finally led to many disastrous consequences.
The moment Willoughby was introduced to Caroline he was captivated by her beauty. After they had danced together, when our heroine was so unexpectedly desired by her mother to dance with Alfred, Geoffery Arden, who may be termed Willoughby's evil genius, took possession of the seat beside him on the sofa, which had been just vacated by Caroline; and well knowing his cousin's weak point, said, "Well, that is one of the most pointed things I ever saw."
"To what do you allude?" asked Willoughby.
"Did you not see how mortified her ladyship looked at having her flirtation with you disturbed."
"Flirtation, indeed!" repeated Willoughby, laughing; "the acquaintance is rather short for that, I should think."