After a few moments’ consultation among her suitors, our heroine was speedily followed into this pleasing retreat, first by one and then by another in rapid succession. The only interruption the routine experienced was that caused by the necessity of her taking some refreshment. In this manner, the day wore away, and each of her antagonists retired in turn, crest-fallen and vanquished.
It was almost twilight, and there now remained but one gallant to be tested. He had unanimously been voted the best player present; and had therefore, according to the Lady Arabella’s suggestion, been preceded by all his companions. As he entered the colonnade with an embarrassed, though graceful step, the lady blushed, and her eyes grew soft and tender. Intent upon the great stake before him, these indications were lost upon the nobleman, who took his seat at the board. In fact, he dare scarcely trust himself with more than a glance at the fair being opposite him, lest the dazzling vision should disarm his skill.
But for the first time throughout the day, the gentle combatant played carelessly. Her eyes were riveted upon the countenance of her opponent, rather than as previously, fixed upon the board. Her moves seemed made without foresight, resembling those of a beginner more than an adept, and she failed to crown a single king. In a word, the meanest antagonist might have won the game at issue, and in a quarter of an hour her opponent gained an easy victory.
“Dare I,” asked he—gathering some suspicion of a preference on her part, which alone could have led to this result, after the skill she had previously manifested towards his rivals—“dare I presume to claim the rich reward?”
His voice grew lower—he drew his chair to her side, and ventured to raise his eyes to her countenance.
It beamed sweet affection; and as she extended her hand to meet his, the nobleman grasped the treasure as one which that gesture made willingly and confidingly his own.
The victorious gallant was Lord R., and ere another winter, the Lady Arabella H—— became his bride. Draughts went out of fashion in the beau monde, but, during their hours of privacy, the game continued, throughout their life-time, a favorite recreation of the happy pair whom it was instrumental in bringing to a blissful union.
THE “STILL SMALL VOICE.”
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