I never saw him again till my wedding day, two years later, when he was best man to my husband, and in my eyes looked a thousand times more loveable.
A married couple of sixteen and twenty-eight ought to have been blessed with every happiness, but after the first three days of our honeymoon the Earl’s temper seemed so overbearing and imperious, that I began seriously to regret my fate, and looked forward to a life of gilded misery. The Earl was fond of the turf, and often left me alone [48] ]whilst he spent a fortnight at Newmarket or Doncaster and York.
One day I was agreeably surprised by a call from Lord Dunwich, (we were living in Grosvenor Square at the time), he looked more handsome than ever, and seemed
so full of sympathy for me in every respect that I could
not help falling into tears, and telling him all my fears, and how I was neglected for nasty ugly fourlegged brutes of race-horses, and
that in fact I was sure Lord Ellington loved his Derby favourite better than myself, and would rather I broke my neck than his pet should fall lame.
“Ah, Lucille” he said, falling on his knees before me, “how your distress
cuts me to the quick, would to God I could comfort you in any way! I have loved you from the first moment we met, although I knew you belonged to a bosom friend, and now the wretch slights you; look up, dear Lucille, from your tears, smile upon one who is devoted to you body and soul!” And [49] ]then seizing my hand, upon which he imprinted a lot of impassioned
kisses, “Ah, you will pardon my presumptuous love, how can I help it?”
I was piqued by the Earl’s coldness towards me, and something impelled me to pity the handsome suitor at my feet, so that although the tears were still welling