“Nor wish to obtain!” repeated Lady Oswald.
“As a mark, therefore,” continued Fitz-Ullin, “of your kind regard for me, I must request that you will never again recur to this subject.”
“But why, my dear Fitz-Ullin, why not accept at least the assistance of my judgment ere you condemn yourself to any uneasiness of mind; for, happy you certainly are not.”
“Impossible!” said Fitz-Ullin, “I cannot! I must not! I have no right!”
“I certainly have no right to be officious,” said Lady Oswald; “but I do confess, I wish to see you happy, and I do think you would not be refused.” He smiled bitterly. “But if you really do not wish to be accepted—why—I have done,” continued her Ladyship.
He quickened his pace: then slackened it; then, discovering that it was quite too cold for the ladies, abruptly put an end to the walk.
Lady Oswald, after this conversation, thought it a necessary point of delicacy, when in company with Julia, to recur no more to the subject of her nephew.
This morning the Euphrasia fell in with a small trader, which, though bound for a port they had left behind, and having no accommodation suited for ladies, could carry a letter that, by being put into the post that evening, would probably reach Lord L. some time before the arrival of the Euphrasia at Leith, and perhaps enable him to meet his daughter there. At any rate, it would shorten his own period of anxiety. Such a letter was accordingly written and dispatched. Its contents were calculated to astonish his Lordship not a little. It spoke of Julia’s deliverance by Fitz-Ullin in terms of the warmest gratitude; and naturally expressed her unfeigned wonder, as to who could have committed the outrage of attempting to tear her from her home; adding, that the only person whom circumstances could justify her in suspecting, she had not even seen.