He threw a glance at the spot where he had fired at the stranger, but failed to perceive a prostrate human body, although he could not believe that he had missed his aim.
He entered the house, and then retired to his room, to pass the night in profitless speculation and mystified wonder. That he had encountered young Vivian, he felt convinced; but, so far as he knew, only to his own discomfiture: beyond, all was a chaos of doubt, presumption, and ardent but malicious wishes.
In the morning he met at breakfast, Wilton, Flora, and Lester Vane, but not a word transpired in allusion to the event of the preceding night. Flora seemed cheerful and expectant. She frequently gazed out of the window into the park; with what object, Mires very shrewdly guessed, and it was evident both to him and to Vane, that the animation she had displayed on the preceding evening was maintained.
Lester Vane was cold to Mires, but more than ever devoted in his manner to Flora, who appeared to take no notice of his profound attention, her thoughts being engrossed by a subject far more pleasing to her.
While the Colonel, with a heart gnawed by emotions of envy and jealousy, was regarding the only too tender politeness of Vane, a servant entered with a letter addressed to Mr. Wilton. The old gentleman opened it and after running his eye hastily over its contents, he handed it to Flora.
“It is from young Vivian,” he said; “he is in the neighbourhood, and will be here this morning, on a short visit. He shall be welcome, very welcome; I shall be most glad to see him, for, irrespective of the great obligation I owe to him, I like the youth himself. To his manly spirit is allied considerable genius and ability; he possesses rare skill in his art, and is modest withal—a true sign that he is no mere pretender.”
Both Mires and Vane bent their eyes upon Flora, to watch the effect this announcement would have upon her, and to observe the expression of her beautiful features as she perused the note placed in her hands. Their scrutiny was the reverse of “satisfactory”: they saw a roseate glow spring into her cheeks, and mount to her fair white brow; they observed, with disturbed feelings, the glitter of her eye; and the soft smile that gently curled her short upper lip. Mires, with wrathful vindictiveness, interpreted the play of her features; and Lester Vane did so too, but in vexed wonder.
“Who is this person?” the latter mentally asked himself. “He possesses evidently a high place in Miss Wilton’s good opinion! In what relation does he stand to her? What are his claims upon her favour?”
He at once, with considerable artifice, addressed himself to the task of ascertaining, and soon learned from Wilton’s lips, and from Flora’s expressive countenance, all and more than he desired to know.
“A rival,” he thought, and smiled contemptuously. “I scarcely imagine he excels me in personal qualifications,” he mused; “and on all other points I have him at an enormous advantage: I will crush his pretensions, if he have any, at once.”