After dinner they had some music; Lord Roehampton would not play whist.

He insisted on comparing the voices of his companions with that of the nightingales of the morning. He talked a great deal to Adriana, and Colonel Albert, in the course of the evening much to Myra, and about her brother. Lord Roehampton more than once had wished to tell her, as he had already told Miss Neuchatel, how delightful had been their morning; but on every occasion he had found her engaged with the colonel.

"I rather like your prince," he had observed to Mr. Neuchatel, as they came from the dining-room. "He never speaks without thinking; very reserved, I apprehend. They say, an inveterate conspirator."

"He has had enough of that," said Mr. Neuchatel. "I believe he wants to be quiet."

"That cla.s.s of man is never quiet," said Lord Roehampton.

"But what can he do?" said Mr. Neuchatel.

"What can he not do? Half Europe is in a state of chronic conspiracy."

"You must keep us right, my dear lord. So long as you are in Downing Street I shall sleep at nights."

"Miss Ferrars," said Lord Roehampton abruptly to Mr. Neuchatel, "must have been the daughter of William Ferrars, one of my great friends in old days. I never knew it till to-day, and she did not tell me, but it flashed across me from something she said."

"Yes, she is his daughter, and is in mourning for him at this moment.

She has had sorrows," said Mr. Neuchatel. "I hope they have ceased. It was one of the happiest days of my life when she entered this family."

"Ah!" said Lord Roehampton.

The next day, after they had examined the famous stud and stables, there was a riding party, and in the evening Colonel Albert offered to perform some American conjuring tricks, of which he had been speaking in the course of the day. This was a most wonderful performance, and surprised and highly amused everybody. Colonel Albert was the last person who they expected would achieve such marvels; he was so quiet, not to say grave.

They could hardly credit that he was the same person as he poured floods of flowers over Myra from her own borrowed pocket-handkerchief, and without the slightest effort or embarra.s.sment, robbed Lord Roehampton of his watch, and deposited it in Adriana's bosom. It was evident that he was a complete master of slight-of-hand.

"Characteristic!" murmured Lord Roehampton to himself.

It was the day after this, that Myra being in the music room and alone, Lord Roehampton opened the door, looked in, and then said, "Where is Miss Neuchatel?"

"I think she is on the terrace."

"Let us try to find her, and have one of our pleasant strolls. I sadly want one, for I have been working very hard all this morning, and half the night."

"I will be with you, Lord Roehampton, in a moment."

"Do not let us have anybody else," he said, as she left the room.

They were soon on the terrace, but Adriana was not there.

"We must find her," said Lord Roehampton; "you know her haunts. Ah! what a delight it is to be in this air and this scene after those dreadful boxes! I wish they would turn us out. I think they must soon."

"Now for the first time," said Myra, "Lord Roehampton is not sincere."

"Then you think me always sincere?" he replied.

"I have no reason to think you otherwise."

"That is very true," said Lord Roehampton, "truer perhaps than you imagine." Then rather abruptly he said, "You know Colonel Albert very well?"

"Pretty well. I have seen him here frequently, and he is also a friend of my brother."

"Ah! a friend of your brother." Then, after a slight pause, he said, "He is an interesting man."

"I think so," said Myra. "You know all about him, of course."

"Very good-looking."

"Well, he looks unhappy, I think, and worn."

"One is never worn when one is young," said Lord Roehampton.

"He must have great anxieties and great sorrows," said Myra. "I cannot imagine a position more unfortunate than that of an exiled prince."

"I can," said Lord Roehampton. "To have the feelings of youth and the frame of age."

Myra was silent, one might say dumbfounded. She had just screwed herself up to the task which Mr. Neuchatel had imposed on her, and was about to appeal to the good offices of Lord Roehampton in favour of the prince, when he had indulged in a remark which was not only somewhat strange, but from the manner in which it was introduced hardly harmonised with her purpose.

"Yes, I would give up everything," said Lord Roehampton. "I would even be an exile to be young; to hear that Miss Ferrars deems me interesting and good-looking, though worn."

"What is going to happen?" thought Myra. "Will the earth open to receive me?"

"You are silent," said Lord Roehampton. "You will not speak, you will not sigh, you will not give a glance of consolation or even pity. But I have spoken too much not to say more. Beautiful, fascinating being, let me at least tell you of my love."

Myra could not speak, but put her left hand to her face. Gently taking her other hand, Lord Roehampton pressed it to his lips. "From the first moment I met you, my heart was yours. It was love at first sight; indeed I believe in no other. I was amused with the projects of my friend, and I availed myself of them, but not unfairly. No one can accuse me of trifling with the affections of your sweet companion, and I must do her the justice to say that she did everything to convince me that she shrank from my attentions. But her society was an excuse to enjoy yours.

I was an habitual visitor in town that I might cherish my love, and, dare I say it, I came down here to declare it. Do not despise it, dearest of women; it is not worthy of you, but it is not altogether undeserving. It is, as you kindly believed it,--it is sincere!"

CHAPTER XLV

On the following day, Mr. Neuchatel had good-naturedly invited Endymion down to Hainault, and when he arrived there, a servant informed him that Miss Ferrars wished to see him in her room.

It was a long interview and an agitated one, and when she had told her tale, and her brother had embraced her, she sat for a time in silence, holding his hand, and intimating, that, for a while, she wished that neither of them should speak. Suddenly, she resumed, and said, "Now you know all, dear darling; it is so sudden, and so strange, that you must be almost as much astounded as gratified. What I have sighed for, and prayed for--what, in moments of inspiration, I have sometimes foreseen--has happened. Our degradation is over. I seem to breathe for the first time for many years. I see a career, ay, and a great one; and what is far more important, I see a career for you."

"At this moment, dear Myra, think only of yourself."

"You are myself," she replied, rather quickly, "never more so than at this moment;" and then she said in a tone more subdued, and even tender, "Lord Roehampton has every quality and every accident of life that I delight in; he has intellect, eloquence, courage, great station and power; and, what I ought perhaps more to consider, though I do not, a sweet disposition and a tender heart. There is every reason why we should be happy--yes, very happy. I am sure I shall sympathise with him; perhaps, I may aid him; at least, he thinks so. He is the n.o.blest of men. The world will talk of the disparity of our years; but Lord Roehampton says that he is really the younger of the two, and I think he is right. My pride, my intense pride, never permitted to me any levity of heart."

"And when is it to happen?" inquired Endymion.

"Not immediately. I could not marry till a year had elapsed after our great sorrow; and it is more agreeable, even to him, that our union should be delayed till the session is over. He wants to leave England; go abroad; have a real holiday. He has always had a dream of travelling in Spain; well, we are to realise the dream. If we could get off at the end of July, we might go to Paris, and then to Madrid, and travel in Andalusia in the autumn, and then catch the packet at Gibraltar, and get home just in time for the November cabinets."

"Dear Myra! how wonderful it all seems!" involuntarily exclaimed Endymion.

"Yes, but more wonderful things will happen. We have now got a lever to move the world. Understand, my dear Endymion, that nothing is to be announced at present. It will be known only to this family, and the Penruddocks. I am bound to tell them, even immediately; they are friends that never can be forgotten. I have always kept up my correspondence with Mrs. Penruddock. Besides, I shall tell her in confidence, and she is perfectly to be depended on. I am going to ask my lord to let Mr.

Penruddock marry us."

"Oh! that will be capital," said Endymion.