“It just occurred to me, that I would let them come, without saying any thing of the ball. The surprise was a liberty, which I thought I might take with the son of an old friend. Let me see,” added Lord L., considering, “it is now some eight or ten months since his father’s death: yet I feared, from the evident depression on his spirits, that he might not be prevailed on to join us, were he aware of the gay scene which awaited him, before he was actually at the door; after which, I should think, he would scarcely turn away.
“It was very plain, that he wished, as much as possible, to avoid all mention of Montgomery; and I did not urge my inquiries, as he means to bring him with him this evening, declaredly for the purpose of some explanation. Indeed, it is clear to me, as I have all along said, that the young men have had some silly quarrel, in which, I can now perceive, Fitz-Ullin believes himself to have been the aggressor. There was a consciousness, a hesitation in his manner: I fancy he means to be vastly heroic this evening, confess himself in fault, and make Montgomery an apology in my presence. But, as I before remarked, there can be nothing very terrible in the affair; for when I asked him how Montgomery was, he answered, ‘Quite well, thank you;’ and smiled again, though languidly. ‘He was not wounded then,’ I ventured to add. ‘Oh, no!’ he replied with quickness. ‘Nor your Lordship, I hope?’ I continued. ‘Why—no,’—he said, after a moment of hesitation. ‘And when you know all,’ he added, ‘you will not suspect me of wishing to injure your friend Montgomery.’
“I saw I was distressing him, so I took my departure, declaring that I entertained no such suspicions.
“Well,” added Lord L., after a momentary pause and a smile, “I trust, from the sadness of the love-stricken youth, that Montgomery has been successful with the fair source of their rivalship; for I have other views for Fitz-Ullin.
“By the bye, I saw three ladies there as I passed a drawing-room, the door of which was half open. Two of them seemed to be in widows’ mourning; and the third, who appeared much younger, wore something black too, I think: but she was so beautiful, that during my momentary glance, I had no leisure to examine her dress. She was standing near the door, and seemed earnestly questioning a person who looked something like a physician. I heard him say, as he was making his exit, ‘You may rest quite satisfied; every dangerous symptom has now disappeared.’ This was as I went in, and before I had seen Fitz-Ullin; so that I expected, of course, to find him in an easy chair and wrapping gown, just recovering from a dangerous wound.”
Then it is Edmund, thought Julia, who is only recovering; and who, perhaps, may not recover after all!
“If that charming creature,” continued Lord L., “was Fitz-Ullin’s fair inamorata, and that he has been rivalled in her good graces, I am not much surprised at his despairing looks: and, certainly, he has not the elastic step, or triumphant eye, of a successful lover. We must contrive to console him, poor fellow.
“In the first place, Julia, I intend that he shall, should he arrive in time, open the ball with you to-night; after which, should he, on longer acquaintance, prove what the son of my immortal friend ought to be, I shall have no objection to his securing your hand for a longer period. Do not look so seriously alarmed, child! I certainly shall not offer it to him. The hand of Lady Julia L. is a prize which may, I think, be sought even by the sole representative of all the honours, hereditary and acquired, of the great Fitz-Ullin! Talking of such things, what did you do to the Marquis of H., to cure him so quickly, and so effectually?”
“Nothing,” replied Julia.