The inquiries which were prompted by curiosity, met with such reply as to stimulate romance in the moment of arresting hope. "Who is she?" "Nobody knows." What an answer for the only son, heir, and representative of the proudest family in England! "Whence comes she?" "From a gipsey camp. How she got there no one can tell."
Lionel was too honourable to cherish an idea of clandestine love, and too good to make his parents miserable. He must, therefore, banish the idle vision, and shake off the sudden fascination which entangled his heart. This determination was aided after his return to Oxford, by certain observations on the manner of young Hartland, whenever Lord Turnstock rallied him on the subject of Zorilda's beauty, which had not been carelessly remarked by the Marquess as circumstances proved in the sequel. From some indications which were exhibited on such occasions, Lionel concluded that an engagement already subsisted between Algernon and the charming Spaniard.
When this conviction stole upon his mind he gave a sigh, and could not refrain from saying to himself, "How happy are those, who, free to follow the bent of inclination, may taste the sweets of mutual love unshackled by these bonds, these galling chains of feudal despotism!"
This sigh, however, was the last. Lionel resolved to hold no dalliance with his duty, and with a manly resolution he plucked from his breast the forbidden thought, and had forgotten the short-lived dream which, for a time, murdered his repose, when Lord Turnstock arrived from the Continent. Lionel had never liked him, and now less than ever; he spoke of his former friend and ally Hartland in terms of unmeasured hatred and contempt, and one evening let out in convivial openness, that he was planning a good trick to vex him, adding, in a careless way, "by the bye, can any one tell me of that Spanish girl, that handsome gipsey who lives at Hartland's house? I have some business to transact with her."
These words were repeated accidentally to Cecil by one of the party, who thought that he could perceive some connection between the "good trick," and the Spanish gipsey. Cecil thought so too, and resolved, as far as he was able, to avert danger from Zorilda by giving her such warning as to put her effectually on her guard, till the arrival of her lover should place her in security.
With this generous design, Lionel set out on a visit of a few days to Thornton Abbey, having had the satisfaction of seeing Lord Turnstock unexpectedly called in another direction by the death of a relation, from whom he hoped for a legacy. Cecil justly surmised, that this would give a new turn to the Marquess' thoughts, for a short time at least, and afford him the desired opportunity of frustrating any scheme inimical to Zorilda's safety. When he reached the neighbourhood of Henbury he made himself acquainted with Zorilda's daily habits, and conveyed the letter before mentioned in the manner already described. Clara was the only person to whom he had ever spoken of Zorilda, with whom his late meeting at the ball was purely accidental; and for her sake, as well as his own, he now wished with scrupulous care to suppress every hint of his having been the person who sent her a message through Rachel at the inn. Such intelligence might produce embarrassment on her part, and render her anxious to leave De Lacy castle before her health was sufficiently re-established to encounter a journey; and for himself, the slightest acknowledgment of former acquaintance with, or interest concerning Zorilda, would infallibly awaken alarm in the minds of Sir Godfrey and Lady Grace.
Secrecy being therefore determined upon, an able surgeon was immediately sent for, who found his patient extremely feverish. After bandaging the injured wrist, and administering a composing draught, he ordered perfect quiet, and took his leave, promising to pay an early visit on the following day. Nothing could surpass the kindness with which the sick stranger was treated by the whole family, and she had been nearly twelve hours under the roof before Lady Grace asked, "Who is she?"
"Some Miss Gordon," answered Clara, "returning to her family in Scotland.
"The name is a good one," replied Lady Cecil. "Did you hear, my love, whether she is of the—-"