He said that he would be a cousin to me, and a brother."
"A brother!"
"That was what he said."
"And he meant nothing more than that,--simply to be your brother?"
"I think he did mean more. I think he meant that he would try to love me so that he might be my husband."
"And what said you to that?"
"I told him that it could not be so."
"And then?"
"Why then again he said that we were cousins; that I had no nearer cousin anywhere, and that he would be good to me and help me, and that the lawsuit should not go on. Oh, Daniel, he was so good!"
"Was that all?"
"He kissed me, saying that cousins might kiss?"
"No, Anna;--cousins such as you and he may not kiss. Do you hear me?"
"Yes, I hear you."
"If you mean to be true to me, there must be no more of that. Do you not know that all this means that he is to win you to be his wife?
Did he not come to you with that object?"
"I think he did, Daniel."
"I think so too, my dear. Surrender! I"ll tell you what that surrender means. They perceive at last that they have not a shadow of justice, or even a shadow of a chance of unjust success in their claim. That with all their command of money, which is to be spent, however, out of your property, they can do nothing; that their false witnesses will not come to aid them; that they have not another inch of ground on which to stand. Their great lawyer, Sir William Patterson, dares not show himself in court with a case so false and fraudulent. At last your mother"s rights and yours are to be owned.
Then they turn themselves about, and think in what other way the prize may be won. It is not likely that such a prize should be surrendered by a n.o.ble lord. The young man is made to understand that he cannot have it all without a burden, and that he must combine his wealth with you. That is it, and at once he comes to you, asking you to be his wife, so that in that way he may lay his hands on the wealth of which he has striven to rob you."
"Daniel, I do not think that he is like that!"
"I tell you he is not only like it,--but that itself. Is it not clear as noon-day? He comes here to talk of love who had never seen you before. Is it thus that men love?"
"But, Daniel, he did not talk so."
"I wonder that he was so crafty, believing him as I do to be a fool.
He talked of cousinship and brotherhood, and yet gave you to know that he meant you to be his wife. Was it not so?"
"I think it was so, in very truth."
"Of course it was so. Do brothers marry their sisters? Were it not for the money, which must be yours, and which he is kind enough to surrender, would he come to you then with his brotherhood, and his cousinship, and his mock love? Tell me that, my lady! Can it be real love,--to which there has been no forerunning acquaintance?"
"I think not, indeed."
"And must it not be l.u.s.t of wealth? That may come by hearsay well enough. It is a love which requires no great foreknowledge to burn with real strength. He is a gay looking lad, no doubt."
"I do not know as to gay, but he is beautiful."
"Like enough, my girl; with soft hands, and curled hair, and a sweet smell, and a bright colour, and a false heart. I have never seen the lad; but for the false heart I can answer."
"I do not think that he is false."
"Not false! and yet he comes to you asking you to be his wife, just at that nick of time in which he finds that you,--the right owner,--are to have the fortune of which he has vainly endeavoured to defraud you! Is it not so?"
"He cannot be wrong to wish to keep up the glory of the family."
"The glory of the family;--yes, the fame of the late lord, who lived as though he were a fiend let loose from h.e.l.l to devastate mankind.
The glory of the family! And how will he maintain it? At racecourses, in betting-clubs, among loose women, with luscious wines, never doing one stroke of work for man or G.o.d, consuming and never producing, either idle altogether or working the work of the devil. That will be the glory of the family. Anna Lovel, you shall give him his choice."
Then he took her hand in his. "Ask him whether he will have that empty, or take all the wealth of the Lovels. You have my leave."
"And if he took the empty hand what should I do?" she asked.
"My brave girl, no; though the chance be but one in a thousand against me, I would not run the risk. But I am putting it to yourself, to your reason, to judge of his motives. Can it be that his mind in this matter is not sordid and dishonest? As to you, the choice is open to you."
"No, Daniel; it is open no longer."
"The choice is open to you. If you will tell me that your heart is so set upon being the bride of a lord, that truth and honesty and love, and all decent feeling from woman to man can be thrown to the wind, to make way for such an ambition,--I will say not a word against it.
You are free."
"Have I asked for freedom?"
"No, indeed! Had you done so, I should have made all this much shorter."
"Then why do you hara.s.s me by saying it?"
"Because it is my duty. Can I know that he comes here seeking you for his wife; can I hear it said on all sides that this family feud is to be settled by a happy family marriage; can I find that you yourself are willing to love him as a cousin or a brother,--without finding myself compelled to speak? There are two men seeking you as their wife. One can make you a countess; the other simply an honest man"s wife, and, so far as that can be low, lower than that t.i.tle of your own which they will not allow you to put before your name. If I am still your choice, give me your hand." Of course she gave it him.
"So be it; and now I shall fear nothing." Then she told him that it was intended that she should go to Yoxham as a visitor; but still he declared that he would fear nothing.
Early on the next morning he called on Mr. Goffe, the attorney, with the object of making some inquiry as to the condition of the lawsuit.
Mr. Goffe did not much love the elder tailor, but he specially disliked the younger. He was not able to be altogether uncivil to them, because he knew all that they had done to succour his client; but he avoided them when it was possible, and was chary of giving them information. On this occasion Daniel asked whether it was true that the other side had abandoned their claim.
"Really Mr. Thwaite, I cannot say that they have," said Mr. Goffe.
"Can you say that they have not?"
"No; nor that either."
"Had anything of that kind been decided, I suppose you would have known it, Mr. Goffe?"
"Really, sir, I cannot say. There are questions, Mr. Thwaite, which a professional gentleman cannot answer, even to such friends as you and your father have been. When any real settlement is to be made, the Countess Lovel will, as a matter of course, be informed."
"She should be informed at once," said Daniel Thwaite sternly: "and so should they who have been concerned with her in this matter."
"You, I know, have heavy claims on the Countess."