"Not to-night," cried Amabel, trembling at his eagerness—"to-morrow."
"To-night, to-night!" reiterated the earl, victoriously. And he rushed out of the room.
Amabel was no sooner left to herself than she repented what she had done. "I fear I have made a false step," she mused; "but it is now too late to retreat, and I will hope for the best. He cannot mean to deceive me."
Her meditations were interrupted by the entrance of Prudence, who came towards her with a face full of glee. "My lord has informed me of the good news," she said. "You are to be wedded to him to-day. I have expected it all along, but it is somewhat sudden at last. He is gone in search of the priest, and in the mean time has ordered me to attire you for the ceremony. I have several rich dresses for your ladyship—for so I must now call you—to choose from."
"The simplest will suit me best," replied Amabel, "and do not call me ladyship till I have a right to that title."
"That will be so soon that I am sure there can be no harm in using it now," returned Prudence. "But pray let me show you the dresses."
Amabel suffered herself to be led into another room, where she saw several sumptuous female habiliments, and selecting the least showy of them, was soon arrayed in it by the officious attendant. More than two hours elapsed before Rochester returned, when he entered Amabel's chamber, accompanied by Sir George Etherege and Pillichody. A feeling of misgiving crossed Amabel, as she beheld his companions.
"I have had some difficulty in finding a clergyman," said the earl, "for the rector of Saint Saviour's has fled from the plague. His curate, however, will officiate for him, and is now in the church."
Amabel fixed a searching look upon him. "Why are these gentlemen here?" she asked.
"I have brought them with me," rejoined Rochester, "because, as they were aware of the injury I once intended you, I wish them to be present at its reparation."