The girls persisted in laughing, and declaring there must have been a lover's quarrel; for that Alfred did not speak of Lady Caroline in the least like the way he used to do.
"There is certainly a great change," said Mrs. Dorothea; "every thing appeared to be going on just as Alfred's best friends could have wished."
"How busy people make themselves," thought Willoughby, "but they shall not influence my conduct."
To avoid the painful topic, Alfred sauntered into the lawn by one of the open French windows. He was almost instantly followed by Willoughby, who took his arm and walked for some time up and down in silence.
"I wish Alfred you would be candid with me," said Willoughby at last, "I certainly admire Lady Caroline Montague, but mine is the admiration—the acquaintance of a day—an hour. If you are seriously attached, still more, if the attachment is, as my mother and sisters seem to think, mutual, tell me so honestly, and I am sure you will do me the justice to believe, that had I the vanity to suppose I could succeed in such an attempt, I would be the last being in existence to wish to interfere with your happiness; so far from it, that if fortune is the obstacle, say so, and I will make a settlement on you so splendid, as to leave no room for objection on that head."
Alfred, quite overcome by his brother's generosity, was unable to articulate; he drew Willoughby's arm closer to his side in token of his gratitude, and they walked on a little, till finding themselves sheltered from the immediate view of the windows by a drooping acacia-tree, they paused by a sort of mutual consent, and Alfred, making an effort to master his emotion, said—"I feel Willoughby, if possible, more gratitude than if I were about to accept and be made happy by your noble offer. I feel too," he added, hesitating, "that I—owe it to your generous nature to make a confession, which else I had gladly avoided. I—I have been already rejected—rejected not by Lady Palliser on the plea of want of fortune, but by Lady Caroline Montague herself. You are, therefore, of course—free—to—to—" but he could not bring himself to give the palpable form of words to the remainder of the inference.
"Rejected already! and by Lady Caroline herself!" repeated Willoughby. "Thank heaven then, my interference at least can never be alleged. What occurred before my arrival cannot be laid to my charge. This, under whatever circumstances may arise, will be an infinite consolation to my mind."
Alfred did not judge it necessary to correct the slight error in chronology which his brother had made, and a protracted silence followed; at length Willoughby said, "Do you think it probable, Alfred, that you will be induced to renew your addresses?"
"Certainly not!" replied Alfred.
"In that case," said Willoughby, again breaking the silence, "who may or who may not ultimately succeed in making themselves acceptable to Lady Caroline Montague can in no wise affect your happiness?"