And so they parted.
He went home at a great rate; for Miss Gale"s insinuations had raised some fear in his breast.
Meantime this is what had really pa.s.sed between Zoe and Lord Uxmoor.
Vizard went to his study, and f.a.n.n.y retired at a signal from Zoe. She rose, but did not go; she walked slowly toward the window; Uxmoor joined her: for he saw he was to have his answer from her mouth.
Her bosom heaved a little, and her cheeks flushed. "Lord Uxmoor," she said, "you have done me the greatest honor any man can pay a woman, and from you it is indeed an honor. I could not write such an answer as I could wish; and, besides, I wish to spare you all the mortification I can."
"Ah!" said Uxmoor, piteously.
"You are worthy of any lady"s love; but I have only my esteem to give you, and that was given long ago."
Uxmoor, who had been gradually turning very white, faltered, "I had my fears. Good-by."
She gave him her hand. He put it respectfully to his lips: then turned and left her, sick at heart, but too brave to let it be seen. He preferred her esteem to her pity.
By this means he got both. She put her handkerchief to her eyes without disguise. But he only turned at the door to say, in a pretty firm voice, "G.o.d bless you!"
In less than an hour he drove his team from the door, sitting heartbroken and desolate, but firm and unflinching as a rock.
So then, on his return from Hillstoke, Severne found them all at luncheon except Uxmoor. He detailed his visit to Miss Gale, and, while he talked, observed. Zoe was beaming with love and kindness. He felt sure she had not deceived him. He learned, by merely listening, that Lord Uxmoor was gone, and he exulted inwardly.
After luncheon, Elysium. He walked with the two girls, and f.a.n.n.y lagged behind; and Zoe proved herself no coquette. A coquette would have been a little cross and shown him she had made a sacrifice. Not so Zoe Vizard.
She never told him, nor even f.a.n.n.y, she had refused Lord Uxmoor. She esteemed the great sacrifice she had made for him as a little one, and so loved him a little more that he had cost her an earl"s coronet and a large fortune.
The party resumed their habits that Uxmoor had interrupted, and no warning voice was raised.
The boring commenced at Hillstoke, and Doctress Gale hovered over the work. The various strata and their fossil deposits were an endless study, and kept her microscope employed. With this, and her treatise on "Cure by Esculents" she was so employed that she did not visit the Court for some days: then came an invitation from Lord Uxmoor to stay a week with him, and inspect his village. She accepted it, and drove herself in the bailiff"s gig, all alone. She found her host attending to his duties, but dejected; so then she suspected, and turned the conversation to Zoe Vizard, and soon satisfied herself he had no hopes in that quarter. Yet he spoke of her with undisguised and tender admiration. Then she said to herself, "This is a man, and he shall have her."
She sat down and wrote a letter to Vizard, telling him all she knew, and what she thought, viz., that another woman, and a respectable one, had a claim on Mr. Severne, which ought to be closely inquired into, and _the lady"s version heard._ "Think of it," said she. "He disowned the woman who had saved his life, he was so afraid I should tell Miss Vizard under what circ.u.mstances I first saw him."
She folded and addressed the letter.
But having relieved her mind in some degree by this, she asked herself whether it would not be kinder to all parties to try and save Zoe without an exposure. Probably Severne benefited by his grace and his disarming qualities; for her ultimate resolution was to give him a chance, offer him an alternative: he must either quietly retire, or be openly exposed.
So then she put the letter in her desk, made out her visit, of which no further particulars can be given at present, returned home, and walked down to the Court next morning to have it out with Edward Severne.
But, unfortunately, from the very day she offered him terms up at Hillstoke, the tide began to run in Severne"s favor with great rapidity.
A letter came from the detective. Severne received it at breakfast, and laid it before Zoe, which had a favorable effect on her mind to begin.
Poikilus reported that the money was in good hands. He had seen the lady.
She made no secret of the thing--the sum was 4,900 pounds, and she said half belonged to her and half to a gentleman. She did not know him, but her agent, Ashmead, did. Poikilus added that he had asked her would she honor that gentleman"s draft? She had replied she should be afraid to do that; but Mr. Ashmead should hand it to him on demand. Poikilus summed up that the lady was evidently respectable, and the whole thing square.
Severne posted this letter to his cousin, under cover, to show him he was really going to clear his estate, but begged him to return it immediately and lend him 50 pounds. The accommodating cousin sent him 50 pounds, to aid him in wooing his heiress. He bought her a hoop ring, apologized for its small value, and expressed his regret that all he could offer her was on as small a scale, except his love.
She blushed, and smiled on him, like heaven opening. "Small and great, I take them," said she; and her lovely head rested on his shoulder.
They were engaged.
From that hour he could command a _te"te-"a-te"te_ with her whenever he chose, and his infernal pa.s.sion began to suggest all manner of wild, wicked and unreasonable hopes.
Meantime there was no stopping. He soon found he must speak seriously to Vizard. He went into his study and began to open the subject. Vizard stopped him. "Fetch the other culprit," said he; and when Zoe came, blushing, he said, "Now I am going to make shorter work of this than you have done. Zoe has ten thousand pounds. What have you got?"
"Only a small estate, worth eight thousand pounds, that I hope to clear of all inc.u.mbrances, if I can get my money."
"Fond of each other? Well, don"t strike me dead with your eyes. I have watched you, and I own a prettier pair of turtledoves I never saw. Well, you have got love and I have got money. I"ll take care of you both. But you must live with me. I promise never to marry."
This brought Zoe round his neck, with tears and kisses of pure affection.
He returned them, and parted her hair paternally.
"This is a beautiful world, isn"t it?" said he, with more tenderness than cynicism this time.
"Ah, that it is!" cried Zoe, earnestly. "But I can"t have you say you will never be as happy as I am. There are true hearts in this heavenly world; for I have found one."
"I have not, and don"t mean to try again. I am going in for the paternal now. You two are my children. I have a talisman to keep me from marrying.
I"ll show it you." He drew a photograph from his drawer, set round with gold and pearls. He showed it them suddenly. They both started. A fine photograph of Ina Klosking. She was dressed as plainly as at the gambling-table, but without a bonnet, and only one rose in her hair. Her n.o.ble forehead was shown, and her face, a model of intelligence, womanliness, and serene dignity.
He gazed at it, and they at him and it.
He kissed it. "Here is my Fate," said he. "Now mark the ingenuity of a parent. I keep out of my Fate"s way. But I use her to keep off any other little Fates that may be about. No other humbug can ever catch me while I have such a n.o.ble humbug as this to contemplate. Ah! and here she is as Siebel. What a G.o.ddess! Just look at her. Adorable! There, this shall stand upon my table, and the other shall be hung in my bedroom. Then, my dear Zoe, you will be safe from a stepmother. For I am your father now.
Please understand that."
This brought poor Zoe round his neck again with such an effusion that at last he handed her to Severne, and he led her from the room, quite overcome, and, to avoid all conversation about what had just pa.s.sed, gave her over to f.a.n.n.y, while he retired to compose himself.
By dinner-time he was as happy as a prince again and relieved of all compunction.
He heard afterward from f.a.n.n.y that Zoe and she had discussed the incident and Vizard"s infatuation, f.a.n.n.y being specially wroth at Vizard"s abuse of pearls; but she told him she had advised Zoe not to mention that lady"s name, but let her die out.
And, in point of fact, Zoe did avoid the subject.
There came an eventful day. Vizard got a letter, at breakfast, from his bankers, that made him stare, and then knit his brows. It was about Edward Severne" s acceptances. He said nothing, but ordered his horse and rode into Taddington.
The day was keen but sunny, and, seeing him afoot so early, Zoe said she should like a drive before luncheon. She would show Severne and f.a.n.n.y some ruins on Pagnell Hill. They could leave the trap at the village inn and walk up the hill. f.a.n.n.y begged off, and Severne was very glad. The prospect of a long walk up a hill with Zoe, and then a day spent in utter seclusion with her, fired his imagination and made his heart beat. Here was one of the opportunities he had long sighed for of making pa.s.sionate love to innocence and inexperience.
Zoe herself was eager for the drive, and came down, followed by Rosa with some wraps, and waited in the morning-room for the dog-cart. It was behind time for once, because the careful coachman had insisted on the axle being oiled. At last the sound of wheels was heard. A carriage drew up at the door.
"Tell Mr. Severne," said Zoe. "He is in the dining-room, I think."
But it was not the dog-cart.
A vigilant footman came hastily out and opened the hall door. A lady was on the steps, and spoke to him, but, in speaking, she caught sight of Zoe in the hall. She instantly slipped pa.s.s the man and stood within the great door.
"Miss Vizard?" said she.
Zoe took a step toward her and said, with astonishment, "Mademoiselle Klosking!"