“I think and hope too well of my niece and heiress,” said Sir Piers gravely, “to believe, that, for her own gratification, she will try to divide two hearts already united by the tenderest vows that affection can form.”
“Affection!” exclaimed the lady; “tush, nonsense, uncle! the affection of children! the brotherly and sisterly affection of babes, for such was the sort of affection of which Stewart himself spoke, and his words are all we have yet to go upon.”
“Pardon me,” said her uncle, calmly; “I have yet better information than any thing we have gathered from him. Suspecting that Charley Stewart’s merits were beginning to render him not altogether without interest in your eyes, I deemed it to be my duty to know the truth regarding this attachment between him and Rosa MacDermot. With this view I visited the Widow MacDermot herself, and from her I learned, that the bond between the pair, lacks nothing to complete it, but the holy sacrament that may fasten the tie for ever.”
“And until that tie be fixed, it is nothing,” said the lady. “Yet what sort of evidence would you bring me, truly, of this same attachment?—That of an old woman, who, in her folly, sees every thing just according to the way her wishes may lead her fancy. I will believe Stewart himself before a dozen such crones, especially where self-interest, and the interest of her girl, must so evidently sway her. Let me but try my influence on him, and thou shalt see how soon he will forget this peasant maid. Thou shalt see”——
“I grieve to find that thou art so resolved to blind thyself, niece!” interrupted Sir Piers, very seriously; “but it is alike my duty to see that you neither run into hopeless misery, nor try to convert that misery into happiness, by unjustly and cruelly ruining the peace of another. I shall again visit the Widow’s cottage, this very afternoon. I shall see and converse with the daughter herself, after which I shall hold plainer converse than I have ever yet done with Stewart. If I find that you have judged correctly, and that there is nothing more in this matter than that the mother hath allowed her judgment to be warped by her wishes, my best endeavours shall not be wanting to accomplish those desires which thou hast so clearly exposed to me. But I tell thee honestly, that if, on the other hand, I find that the Widow has judged and reported truly, I shall, for your sake, as well as for that of Stewart, do all I can to promote his union with Rosa MacDermot.”
“Say’st thou so, old man?” muttered the Lady Marcella to herself, after her uncle had left her; “then must I act—aye, and act quickly, and boldly too.”
After a moment’s thought, she clapped her hands for her page, and sent him directly to entreat that Stewart would favour her with a private interview immediately. He came at her summons; and, after the usual salutations were over, she, with a face that, spite of her determined and dauntless character, absolutely burned, from the very nature of the communication she had resolved to make, entered upon it in a low yet steady and unbroken tone.
“I take it for granted, Stewart,” said she, “that the few words I let fall, the other day, when we were returning from our pursuit after the caitiff Catteranes, were not thrown away upon one of your quick wit. They were not uttered without intention; and they have, I trust, proved to thee that thy rare merits have not escaped my notice, and that I take no common interest in thee.”
The Lady Marcella paused for an answer; and the astonished Charley Stewart, having mumbled some confused and ill-connected expressions of gratitude for her good opinion, she continued in a yet calmer and more collected tone.
“I have thus sent for thee, honestly to confess to thee, that the interest I take in thee is of a nature, which could not permit me to see unmoved, one, who is so manifestly born for better fortunes, ignorantly to mar them from too humble an estimation of his own merits, and, without looking higher, blindly to tie himself down from all chance of rising, by rashly binding himself to baseness and poverty. If ever a desire of turning the issues of fate into their proper course, might be an excuse for a woman speaking out more openly and plainly than tyrant custom has permitted her sex to do, certain I am it might be reasonably held to be in the present case. But, were it otherwise, thou hast already seen enough of me to know, that I am no ordinary woman; and I, who have dared much, would dare this too—yea, and ten times more, to secure mine own peace, and thy happiness. Reflect, then, on the words I uttered as we returned from our expedition. Know, that Fortune hath not refused to shine on thy deserts, for she now offers thee the hand and fortune of her who addresses thee.”