Surprised, and greatly affected by the unexpected turn which matters had taken, so contrary to what he had anticipated, the worthy professor had listened to these expressions of the countess with averted head, and making the most ingenious use of the handkerchief which he held to his face that he could, to conceal the real purpose for which he employed it. When she had done—
'Madam,' he said, with great agitation and confusion of manner, and still busily plying the handkerchief in its pretended vocation—'Madam, I—I—I am surprised—much affected, I assure you—much affected, my lady—with this striking instance of what a noble and generous nature is capable. I was by no means prepared for it. It does you infinite honour, my lady—infinite honour; and will, I trust, in its result, be productive of all that happiness to you which your magnanimous conduct so eminently deserves.'
'I trust I have acted rightly, professor,' was the brief reply of the countess, as she again turned to the young couple, who were now standing on the floor beside her, 'I hope I have; and, if my heart does not deceive me, I am sure I have.'
'You are warranted, my lady, in the confidence you express in the uprightness, the generosity of your conduct on this very remarkable occasion—perfectly warranted,' replied the professor. 'It is an unexampled instance of greatness, of liberality of mind, and as such I must always look on it.'
Thus, then, terminated this extraordinary scene. It was subsequently arranged that the marriage of the earl should, in the meantime, be kept as secret as possible, and that
the young countess should, in the interim, be sent for a year or two to one of the most celebrated seminaries of female education in England, under an assumed name, and that, when she should have acquired the attainments and the polish befitting her high station, she should be produced to the world as the Countess of Wistonbury.
Acting upon this plan of proceedings, the same carriage that brought down the earl's mother, bore away, on the following day, together with that lady, the young earl and his bride; the latter, to commence her educational noviciate in England; the former, to while away the time as he best could until that noviciate should expire, a period which he proposed to render less irksome by a tour on the continent.
About two years after the occurrence of the events just related—it might be more, perhaps nearly three—Oxton Hall presented a scene of prodigious confusion and bustle. Little carts of provender were daily seen making frequent visits to the house. Huge old grates, in deserted kitchens, that had not been in use for a century before, were cleared of their rubbish, and glowing with blazing fires, at which enormous roasts were solemnly revolving. Menials were running to and fro in all directions, and a crowd of powdered and richly-liveried lackeys bustled backwards and forwards through the gorgeous apartments, loaded with silver plate, and bearing huge baskets of wine. Everything at Oxton Hall, in short, betokened preparations for a splendid fête—and such, in truth, was the case. To this fête all the nobility and gentry, within a circuit of ten to fifteen miles were invited; and such an affair it promised to be, altogether, as had not been seen at Oxton Hall since the marriage of the last earl—a period of nearly thirty years. None of those invited knew, or could guess, what was the particular reason for so extensive a merry-making.
Its scale, they learned, was most magnificent, and the invitations unprecedentedly numerous.
The whole affair was thus somewhat of a puzzle to the good people who were to figure as guests at the impending fête; but they comforted themselves with the reflection that they would know all about it by and by. In the meantime, the day appointed for the celebration of the proposed festival at Oxton Hall arrived; and, amongst the other preparations which more markedly characterized it, was the appearance of several long tables extended on the lawn in front of the house, and which were intended for the accommodation of the earl's tenantry, who were also invited to share in the coming festivities. Towards the afternoon of the day alluded to, carriages and vehicles of all descriptions, and of various degrees of elegance, were seen, in seemingly endless numbers, streaming along the spacious and well-gravelled walks that led, by many a graceful curve, through the surrounding lawn, to the noble portals of Oxton Hall. These, by turns, drew up in front of the principal entrance to the house, and delivered their several cargoes of lords and ladies, knights and squires, all honourable personages, and of high degree. An inferior description of equipages, again, and occupied by persons of a different class, sturdy yeomen and their wives and daughters, found ther way, or rather were guided as they came, to a different destination, but with no difference in the hospitality of their reception. All were alike welcome to Oxton Hall on this auspicious day. By and by the hour of dinner came, and, when it did, it exhibited a splendid scene in the magnificent dining-room of the Earl of Wistonbury. In this dining-room were assembled a party of at least a hundred-and-fifty ladies and gentlemen, all in their best attire. Down the middle of the spacious apartment ran a table of ample length and breadth, and capable of accommodating with ease even the formidable