“Mildred, I could not have married her. For a short space she seemed to cast a spell over me; but I soon recovered from it, and found that you alone are mistress of my heart, and that I could not live without you. But I had lost you—I had forfeited your regard, and could never hope to regain it.”
“You judged correctly,” said Mildred. But her looks rather belied her words.
“Though justly punished, I was resolved not to unite myself to a woman I cannot love, and who, I believe, is equally indifferent to me. A pretext for breaking off the engagement was easily found—nay, presented itself. Certain she would refuse, I required a handsome settlement to be made upon me. Her answer, as I anticipated, set me free; and now, dearest Mildred,” he added, venturing to take her hand which she did not withdraw, “you have heard my explanation, can you forgive me?”
“You do not deserve forgiveness!” she replied in a voice that showed she relented.
“I know it,” he said, raising her hand to his lips. “But I feel that I am forgiven.”
Further discourse was interrupted by the entrance of Lady Thicknesse and Emmeline, both of whom had witnessed the tender incident just described, and understood that a reconciliation had taken place, but neither made a remark.
“I've an agreeable surprise for you,” said Lady Thicknesse. “Who do you think is coming to me tomorrow? You'll never guess; so I may as well tell you—Mrs. Calverley.”
Exclamations of surprise rose from all; but no one seemed particularly pleased.
“I was not aware you knew her, aunt,” remarked Captain Danvers, who did not care to conceal his vexation.
“I have never seen her,” replied Lady Thicknesse. “But I wrote to say I should be delighted to make her acquaintance, and hoped she might be induced to spend a week with me while Mildred and Emmeline are in town. She has just answered that she accepts my invitation with the greatest pleasure, and I may expect her to-morrow. She will make a delightful addition to our little party.”