|Left alone, Lord Courland did not feel by any means satisfied with what he had done.
He was really in love with Mrs. Calverley, and now that he seemed likely to lose her, his passion revived in all its force. He had made certain of a large fortune, and vexation at his disappointment had carried him farther than he intended. It was disagreeable to lose so charming a place as Ouselcroft, and such a splendid income as he had been promised, but it was far more disagreeable to loose the object of his affections. Moreover, fifteen hundred a year, though it would not bear comparison with five thousand, was not to be despised. Altogether, he blamed himself for his precipitancy, and resolved, if possible, to set matters right.
With this determination, he was about to quit the cabinet, when Teresa made her appearance.
She looked exceedingly pale and ill, and, thinking he was the cause of her suffering, he felt inclined to throw himself at her feet, and entreat forgiveness.
But she checked him by her manner, which was totally changed, and almost freezingly cold.
“I have learnt your decision, my lord,” she said, in accents devoid of emotion, “and entirely approve of it. I would not have it otherwise.”
“But I was wrong, dearest Teresa!” he cried. “I retract all I have said, and pray you to forgive me! I will take you without fortune! I cannot live without you!”
A melancholy smile played upon her pallid features.
“Would I had known this before!” she said. “But it is now too late!”
“Why too late?” he exclaimed, despairingly. “I have told you I will take you as you are. Do as you please with your own. I will ask nothing!”