I was wandering about in Lady Caroline's garden, within the castle's precincts, the next day—her ladyship had left me to amuse myself whilst she was busy with the steward of her household—thinking about Sir Hubert Blair, when he came to me, saying wistfully, as he took my hand in his—
'May I have a little talk with you, Mistress Brown? We may not have such a good opportunity again.'
A sudden shyness fell upon me, as glancing up, I caught the look in his dark eyes, and I could not answer in words, though he must have read my meaning, for he thanked me very much, and we walked on side by side, stooping ever and anon to look into a flower, or smell an early rose, but scarcely speaking at all, until he began in feverish haste—
'Lady Caroline sent me to talk to you of matters political and religious. You heard what I said at the meeting yesterday, and she wishes me to enlighten you still further about the desires and intentions of the boldest and perhaps the most farseeing statesmen near our dying king. But methinks, though politics may be of importance, and kings and queens demand our unswerving allegiance and devotion, yet there is something nearer my heart just now, something which affects mine own self more closely——' He broke off, and began again: 'Mistress Margaret, this is a rare opportunity for a quiet talk with you, and I must seize it'——He paused.
'Yes,' I said, trying to help him on, 'you must seize it!'
'Exactly,' he rejoined. 'Oh, but you may think it intolerable presumption on my part. And yet I cannot help it. Margaret—Margaret, I love you, I love you with all my heart.'
He took my hands in his, and held them to him.
I fancy sometimes, after all the far different aspects in which I have seen his dear face and fine figure, that never did he look so handsome and so lovable as then, when he was telling me for the first time of his dear love, and my heart bounded with joy as I realized that he to the full reciprocated my tender affection.
Perhaps he read my answer in my face—I have often been told it is like an open book that he who runs may read—or perhaps he perceived the difficulty I had in finding words, and wished to spare me, for he went on, without awaiting for any rejoinder, to tell me that ever since we first met—he spoke as if that were years and years ago, though it was barely fifty hours before—he felt convinced that I was his affinity, his kindred soul, his wife that ought to be. 'We have been made for each other,' he said, and much more to that effect, whilst I listened as if I were in a happy dream, and thought that it was all too good and beautiful to be true.
And then, long before it was time for her to return—to my thinking, at least—Lady Caroline came into the garden, and, hastening up to me, inquired of what I thought of all Sir Hubert had been telling me.