She felt at a loss what steps to take in responding to the contents of the letter, because she was anxious to take the one which should be most cheering to him—that should not wound him by condolement—should express her sympathy and regret, and at the same time assure him that it should make no difference in the esteem—the profound esteem—she entertained for him.
She disliked the word “esteem;” it was cold and inexpressive, yet it was proper to think it as well as use it.
She felt herself to be in an embarrassing position. Her impulses suggested to her to write a long and loving letter to Vivian, but she was conscious of other considerations, which forbade her consulting only self in the matter.
Now it happened about this time that Mark Wilton made the discovery that no inconsiderable portion of his time was occupied in conjuring up the face and form of Lotte Clinton, and in framing small dramas, the incidents of which were strikingly romantic, and in which he and she played the principal parts. For many years Mark’s path in life had been rough hewn, and he had been compulsorily self-reliant. He could by no means brook trammels. He, therefore, acted as impulse directed, never believing that his father could or ought to have any further control over him. So, after making an imaginary better acquaintance with Lotte, passing through a number of visionary love-scenes, in which the young lady was supposed to display a vast deal of fond confidence, and to give faint utterance to the most pleasing open confessions, it is hardly surprising that he should come to the conclusion that she was precisely the person to become Mrs. Mark Wilton, and precisely the person who should become Mrs. Mark Wilton.
He had, nevertheless, his misgivings. They would obtrude, unwelcome enough in all conscience, and did not altogether agree with his proud, free sense of independence.
After the scene in which Hal Vivian was denied an alliance with his sister Flora, and forbidden to entertain in future any hope of her hand, he could hardly help perceiving that his father would insist upon having a voice respecting the admission of other new members to his family. He might, in spite of Mark’s assertion of his right to do as he pleased, in the grave and important act of choosing a wife, object to receive a needle, woman as a daughter-in-law, even though he had been in humble circumstances for a time himself, and, as was very likely he would, exhibit a very strong feeling in the matter, and deliver a no less strong opinion upon it. But though Mark felt this, he determined not to be guided by it. He had heard it said that, in the dance of life, it was a man’s duty to choose his own partner, and he believed in the truth of the aphorism—at all events, he did not want any M.C. to perform that office for him. He had funds of his own, independent of his father’s property, and he resolved that, all things agreeing, he would marry Lotte, in spite of his father’s opposition—always presuming that opposition rested solely on considerations of her previous position in life.
It may be understood that with these sentiments he sympathised with his sister, and after some communing with her, during which, with rosy cheeks and downcast eyes, she made frank acknowledgments, he undertook to proceed to London, ostensibly to convey a message from her to his early friend Harry Vivian, but really to “kill two birds with one stone,” the other bird being Lotte Clinton; though if he attempted to kill her at all, the only murderous weapon he intended to use would be kindness.
He only wanted an excuse for a journey to London, and his sister Flora afforded it to him.
Now he was very warmly attached to Hal Vivian. “They had been friends in youth,” when the brightest side of prosperity was turned towards Hal Vivian, but that fact had only seemed to render the latter more generous and self-sacrificing to Mark Wilton. Their friendship had, indeed, on both sides been characterised by the nobler qualities of human nature; unworldly, unselfish, and romantic in its constitution, and, framed of the materials to render it lasting, it was not of a kind to be lightly disturbed.
Mark knew his sister to be lovely, amiable, well-born, and richly dowered, but he knew no man whom he would sooner see her husband than Hal Vivian. Unaffected by the claims of rank and station, he bowed to those of sterling worth, embodied in high qualities of heart and mind. He believed the happiness of life to be associated with them, and as it was his intention to appeal to them to ensure him a passage to immortal life, through elysian fields on earth, he was well disposed to interest himself to bring about a marriage between Flora and Hal, even though his father was at present averse to it.