"Obliged!" cried Beauchamp, catching at the word. "Obliged! Did Sir Sidney, then, object?"
"Oh, no!" answered Blanche; "nor would have objected. But it shall all be explained, Henry, if you can forgive me, and love me still, notwithstanding all the pain I have made you suffer."
"I have loved you ever, Blanche, with the most unabated affection," replied Beauchamp. "Nay, more, what between affection, and what between vanity, I had fancied that there must be some latent cause for conduct that seemed inexplicable. I had endeavored for some time so to frame my every word and action toward you, that you could not mistake them; and it was only because you permitted those attentions--because they did not seem to displease you"--(Blanche blushed deeply)--"because, in short, you did not repel them, that I dared to hope. I would not--I could not believe that such a heart and such a mind as that of Blanche Delaware would suffer me to go on so long unchecked, if she felt that the affection she must have seen could not be returned."
"Indeed--indeed I would not!" replied Blanche. "I do not pretend not to have seen what were your feelings toward me, and it is no use now of concealing what were my own," and for a moment her eyes again sought the ground. "The fact was, however," she added, smiling, "that what happened afterward was not because you were Mr. Burrel, but because I discovered you were Mr. Beauchamp."
"And was that name, then, so hateful, to you!" asked her lover.
"No, no!" answered Blanche. "But I see I may as well tell you at once, for you will not cease to question me till I do. Do you remember the last day you ever came up to the Park! Well, just after your arrival the post came in, and among other things were two letters to me--one from Mrs. Darlington, and another which made me run to my own room as soon as I had opened it. It was from your uncle, the late Lord Ashborough. I scarcely like to think of it even now. It told me who you really were, and in terms--oh, so bitter!--hinted that I must know it already, and must be using that knowledge for evil purposes. It then went on to state, that, however determined you might be in the foolish line of conduct you were pursuing, your relations would never forgive our union; and that if it took place, he, Lord Ashborough, would not only disown you as his relation, but would leave every acre of land which he could alienate, to the most distant relation he had, sooner than to you. The whole was wound up with the same denunciation against you, in case I ever revealed to you the fact of my having received that letter; and it ended with telling me, that now, knowing these facts, I might still _strive to force myself into your family if I would_. But I will show you the letter, Henry, and you shall judge for yourself whether I could do otherwise."
"He might, indeed, have alienated a large part of his property," replied Beauchamp; "but there was still more than enough left. And did you think, Blanche, from what you knew of me even then, that I would not have preferred a cottage with you, to ten times the amount he could have taken away without you?"
"Henry Beauchamp in a cottage!" said Blanche, smiling. "I am afraid that would have suited Blanche Delaware better. But remember, Henry, that I knew not what he could take from you; and even if I had known, should I have had any right to accept, to permit, such a sacrifice. Oh, no! and if it had broken my heart, I must have acted as I did act. But now, Henry, let us return home; we have walked on long, and papa will certainly think it strange that I have been thus left alone with you at all."
"He shall soon have a good reason, dear Blanche," replied her lover; "and I trust that we shall never--never part again."
Beauchamp found Sir Sidney Delaware more shaken by all he had undergone than he had anticipated; but the baronet's delight at seeing his young cousin, he declared, took twenty years from the load of age. "Your father, my dear Harry," he, said, "was my school and college companion, and the constant friend of my heart. I thought, when first I saw you at Emberton, that your face, and voice, and manner, were all as familiar to me as household words. But why, Harry--why did you not tell me your real name--especially when you came plotting such a service as you afterward rendered me?"