"Perhaps you never liked anybody," said she.
"Well;--yes, I have; but I am not going to boast of what fortune has done for me in that way. I wonder whether you care for me?"
"Do you want to know?"
"I should like to know. You have never said that you did."
"Because you have never asked me."
"Am I not asking you now, Bella?"
"There are different ways of asking,--but there is only one way that will get an answer from me. No;--no. I will not have it. I have allowed too much to you already. Oh, I am so tired." Then she sank back almost into his arms,--but recovered herself very quickly. "Lord Rufford," she said, "if you are a man of honour let there be an end of this. I am sure you do not wish to make me wretched."
"I would do anything to make you happy."
"Then tell me that you love me honestly, sincerely, with all your heart,--and I shall be happy."
"You know I do."
"Do you? Do you?" she said, and then she flung herself on to his shoulder, and for a while she seemed to faint. For a few minutes she lay there and as she was lying she calculated whether it would be better to try at this moment to drive him to some clearer declaration, or to make use of what he had already said without giving him an opportunity of protesting that he had not meant to make her an offer of marriage. He had declared that he loved her honestly and with his whole heart. Would not that justify her in setting her uncle at him? And might it not be that the Duke would carry great weight with him;--that the Duke might induce him to utter the fatal word though she, were she to demand it now, might fail? As she thought of it all she affected to swoon, and almost herself believed that she was swooning. She was conscious but hardly more than conscious that he was kissing her;--and yet her brain was at work.
She felt that he would be startled, repelled, perhaps disgusted were she absolutely to demand more from him now. "Oh, Rufford;--oh, my dearest," she said as she woke up, and with her face close to his, so that he could look into her eyes and see their brightness even through the gloom. Then she extricated herself from his embrace with a shudder and a laugh. "You would hardly believe how tired I am," she said putting out her ungloved hand. He took it and drew her to him and there she sat in his arms for the short remainder of the journey.
They were now in the park, and as the lights of the house came in sight he gave her some counsel. "Go up to your room at once, dearest, and lay down."
"I will. I don"t think I could go in among them. I should fall."
"I will see the d.u.c.h.ess and tell her that you are all right,--but very tired. If she goes up to you you had better see her."
"Oh, yes. But I had rather not."
"She"ll be sure to come. And, Bella, Jack must be yours now."
"You are joking."
"Never more serious in my life. Of course he must remain with me just at present, but he is your horse." Then, as the carriage was stopping, she took his hand and kissed it.
She got to her room as quickly as possible; and then, before she had even taken off her hat, she sat down to think of it all,--sending her maid away meanwhile to fetch her a cup of tea. He must have meant it for an offer. There had at any rate been enough to justify her in so taking it. The present he had made to her of the horse could mean nothing else. Under no other circ.u.mstances would it be possible that she should either take the horse or use him. Certainly it was an offer, and as such she would instruct her uncle to use it. Then she allowed her imagination to revel in thoughts of Rufford Hall, of the Rufford house in town, and a final end to all those weary labours which she would thus have brought to so glorious a termination.
CHAPTER XIII.
LORD RUFFORD WANTS TO SEE A HORSE.
Lord Rufford had been quite right about the d.u.c.h.ess. Arabella had only taken off her hat and was drinking her tea when the d.u.c.h.ess came up to her. "Lord Rufford says that you were too tired to come in,"
said the d.u.c.h.ess.
"I am tired, aunt;--very tired. But there is nothing the matter with me. We had to ride ever so far coming home and it was that knocked me up."
"It was very bad, your coming home with him in a postchaise, Arabella."
"Why was it bad, aunt? I thought it very nice."
"My dear, it shouldn"t have been done. You ought to have known that.
I certainly wouldn"t have had you here had I thought that there would be anything of the kind."
"It is going to be all right," said Arabella laughing.
According to her Grace"s view of things it was not and could not be made "all right." It would not have been all right were the girl to become Lady Rufford to-morrow. The scandal, or loud reproach due to evil doings, may be silenced by subsequent conduct. The merited punishment may not come visibly. But nothing happening after could make it right that a young lady should come home from hunting in a postchaise alone with a young unmarried man. When the d.u.c.h.ess first heard it she thought what would have been her feelings if such a thing had been suggested in reference to one of her own daughters!
Lord Rufford had come to her in the drawing-room and had told her the story in a quiet pleasant manner,--merely saying that Miss Trefoil was too much fatigued to show herself at the present moment. She had thought from his manner that her niece"s story had been true. There was a cordiality and apparent earnestness as to the girl"s comfort which seemed to be compatible with the story. But still she could hardly understand that Lord Rufford should wish to have it known that he travelled about the country in such a fashion with the girl he intended to marry. But if it were true, then she must look after her niece. And even if it were not true,--in which case she would never have the girl at Mistletoe again,--yet she could not ignore her presence in the house. It was now the 18th of January. Lord Rufford was to go on the following day, and Arabella on the 20th.
The invitation had not been given so as to stretch beyond that.
If it could be at once decided,--declared by Lord Rufford to the Duke,--that the match was to be a match, then the invitation should be renewed, Arabella should be advised to put off her other friends, and Lord Rufford should be invited to come back early in the next month and spend a week or two in the proper fashion with his future bride. All that had been settled between the Duke and the d.u.c.h.ess. So much should be done for the sake of the family. But the Duke had not seen his way to asking Lord Rufford any question.
The d.u.c.h.ess must now find out the truth if she could,--so that if the story were false she might get rid of the girl and altogether shake her off from the Mistletoe roof tree. Arabella"s manner was certainly free from any appearance of hesitation or fear. "I don"t know about being all right," said the d.u.c.h.ess. "It cannot be right that you should have come home with him alone in a hired carriage."
"Is a hired carriage wickeder than a private one?"
"If a carriage had been sent from here for you, it would have been different;--but even then he should not have come with you."
"But he would I"m sure;--and I should have asked him. What;--the man I"m engaged to marry! Mayn"t he sit in a carriage with me?"
The d.u.c.h.ess could not explain herself, and thought that she had better drop that topic. "What does he mean to do now, Arabella?"
"What does who mean, aunt?"
"Lord Rufford."
"He means to marry me. And he means to go from here to Mr. Surbiton"s to-morrow. I don"t quite understand the question."
"And what do you mean to do?"
"I mean to marry him. And I mean to join mamma in London on Wednesday. I believe we are to go to the Connop Green"s the next day.
Mr. Connop Green is a sort of cousin of mamma;--but they are odious people."
"Who is to see Lord Rufford? However, my dear, if you are very tired, I will leave you now."
"No, aunt. Stay a moment if you will be so very kind. I am tired; but if I were twice as tired I would find strength to talk about this. If my uncle would speak to Lord Rufford at once I should take it as the very kindest thing he could do. I could not send him to my uncle; for, after all, one"s uncle and one"s father are not the same. I could only refer him to papa. But if the Duke would speak to him!"
"Did he renew his offer to-day?"
"He has done nothing else but renew it ever since he has been in the carriage with me. That"s the plain truth. He made his offer at Rufford. He renewed it in the wood yesterday;--and he repeated it over and over again as we came home to-day. It may have been very wrong, but so it was." Miss Trefoil must have thought that kissing and proposing were the same thing. Other young ladies have, perhaps, before now made such a mistake. But this young lady had had much experience and should have known better.
"Lord Rufford had better perhaps speak to your uncle."
"Will you tell him so, aunt?"
The d.u.c.h.ess thought about it for a moment. She certainly could not tell Lord Rufford to speak to the Duke without getting the Duke"s leave to tell him so. And then, if all this were done, and Lord Rufford were to a.s.sure the Duke that the young lady had made a mistake, how derogatory would all that be to the exalted quiescence of the house of Mayfair! She thoroughly wished that her niece were out of the house; for though she did believe the story, her belief was not thorough. "I will speak to your uncle," she said. "And now you had better go to sleep."