“He loves her,” he grated through his compressed teeth, “but the whelp shall no more wed her than if she were a Princess Royal of England.”
It is possible that Mr. Wilton obtained some incoherent answers during the periods when the Colonel was mentally making these observations, and it is certain that the manner of the latter to Hal grew more distant, haughty, and contemptuous than ever, even as Hal’s to him grew more defiant, keeping pace with it.
It was upon a day when Flora and Vivian—while Mr. Wilton was pursuing some inquiries addressed to Colonel Mires—-were standing in the recess of a deep bay window, conversing in a low tone about Lotte, that the Colonel found his position insupportable. Old Wilton was more than usually pointed in his questions, and displayed great anxiety about the exactness of the replies he requested. The Colonel was frequently called upon to repeat his answers, and, in many instances, to explain them with deliberation and clearness. All the time he was called upon to do this, he observed Hal and Flora in close, animated converse, conducted in so low a tone that not a word could reach his ears. It was so intended. Flora did this for Lotte’s sake—the circumstances which had happened in connection with her were not of a nature to be spoken loudly, in indifferent ears; she therefore depressed her voice to so soft a tone that Hal had to bend his face near to hers, to catch the sound and comprehend its meaning.
Her warm breath must frequently have played upon his cheek.
If so, it was as balmy as the softest zephyr ever breathed upon a summer evening—as fragrant as the odour of a thousand sweet-scented flowers.
Mires rapidly lost the sound of Wilton’s voice, and heard nothing but the low, murmuring tones of the youthful pair; saw nought but that Flora’s delicately-shaped hand rested upon Vivian’s arm, and that their faces were in a proximity which maddened him to behold.
Bear it longer he could not; he was just about to betray himself by some violent, insane remark, when a servant entered, and announced to Mr. Wilton that Mr. Malcome Grahame, accompanied by the Honorable Lester Vane, would be glad of a few minutes’ conversation with him.
“Show the gentlemen in here,” Wilton returned, laconically.
At least, this interruption was, in the eyes of Colonel Mires, agreeable, for it broke up that torturing tête-à tète, and saved him from committing himself in a very ridiculous manner. He could not, however, let pass the opportunity of scowling at young Vivian, in a way highly expressive of hatred and malignity, which was responded to by the young gentleman, who saw, and rightly interpreted it, with a steadfast look of ineffable scorn.
The servant returned, and almost immediately ushered in Malcolm and Lester Vane. Young Mr. Grahame sent his eyes swiftly round the room, in search of Lotte, but was grievously disappointed not to see her. Vane looked directly in Flora’s face, and continued to do so during the interview, with but a trifling exception, causing her embarrassment, which he observed with pleasure, because, whenever he perceived that he raised an emotion in the female breast, he supposed that he had eliminated a symptom favourable to himself.