‘Then he may be prepared to find you a wife elsewhere,’ said Lady Eliza.
At this moment Cecilia’s voice was heard in the passage. He took up his hat.
‘I will go,’ he said, foreseeing further disaster. ‘I entreat you, Lady Eliza, do not say anything to Miss Raeburn. I really do not know what I should do if she were to hear of this horrible mistake!’
He looked such a picture of dismay that, for a moment, she pitied him.
‘I should scarcely do such a thing,’ she replied.
‘You have not allowed me to express my deep regret—Lady Eliza, I hardly know what to say.’
‘Say nothing, Mr. Fordyce. That, at least, is a safe course.’
‘But what can I do? How can I induce you or Miss Raeburn to receive me? If she were to know of what has happened, I should have no hope of her ever listening to me! Oh, Lady Eliza—pray, pray tell me that this need not destroy everything!’
The storm of her anger was abating a little, and she began to realize that the unfortunate Crauford was deserving of some pity. And he was Robert’s nephew.
‘I know nothing of my niece’s feelings,’ she said, ‘but you may be assured that I shall not mention your name to her. And you may be assured of this also: until Lady Fordyce writes such a letter as I shall approve when you show it to me, you will never approach her with my consent.’