"But, mamma, I am to be his wife."

"No, no, no!"

"It is that that I want to make you understand. You know nothing of his character;--nothing."

"I do know that he told a base falsehood."

"Nothing of the kind! I will not admit it. It is of no use going into that again, but there was nothing base about it. He has got an appointment in the United States, and is going out to do the work. He has not asked me to go with him. The two things would probably not be compatible." Here Mrs. Mountjoy rose from the sofa and embraced her child, as though liberated from her deepest grief. "But, mamma, you must remember this:--that I have given him my word, and will never be induced to abandon it." Here her mother threw up her hands and again began to weep. "Either to-day or to-morrow, or ten years hence,--if he will wait as long, I will,--we shall be married. As far as I can see we need not wait ten years, or perhaps more than one or two. My money will suffice for us."

"He proposes to live upon you?"

"He proposes nothing of the kind. He is going to America because he will not propose it. Nor am I proposing it,--just at present."

"At any rate I am glad of that."

"And now, mamma, you must take me back home as soon as possible."

"When he has started."

"No, mamma. I must be there before he starts. I cannot let him go without seeing him. If I am to remain here, here he must come."

"Your uncle would never receive him."

"I should receive him."

This was dreadful--this flying into actual disobedience. Whatever did she mean? Where was she to receive him? "How could you receive a young man in opposition to the wishes, and indeed to the commands, of all your friends?"

"I'm not going to be at all shamefaced about it, mamma. I am the woman he has selected to be his wife, and he is the man I have selected to be my husband. If he were coming I should go to my uncle and ask to have him received."

"Think of your aunt."

"Yes; I do think of her. My aunt would make herself very disagreeable.

Upon the whole, mamma, I think it would be best that you should take me back to England. There is this M. Grascour here, who is a great trouble, and you may be sure of this, that I intend to see Harry Annesley before he starts for America."

So the interview was ended; but Mrs. Mountjoy was left greatly in doubt as to what she might best do. She felt sure that were Annesley to come to Brussels, Florence would see him,--would see him in spite of all that her uncle and aunt, and Mr. Anderson, and M. Grascour could do to prevent it. That reprobate young man would force his way into the emba.s.sy, or Florence would force her way out. In either case there would be a terrible scene. But if she were to take Florence back to Cheltenham, interviews to any extent would be arranged for her at the house of Mrs. Armitage. As she thought of all this, the idea came across her that when a young girl is determined to be married nothing can prevent it.

Florence in the mean time wrote an immediate answer to her lover, as follows:

"DEAR HARRY,--Of course you were ent.i.tled to write when there was something to be said which it was necessary that I should know. When you have simply to say that you love me, I know that well enough without any farther telling.

"Go to America for three years! It is very, very serious. But of course you must know best, and I shall not attempt to interfere. What are three years to you and me? If we were rich people, of course we should not wait; but as we are poor, of course we must act as do other people who are poor. I have about four hundred a year; and it is for you to say how far that may be sufficient. If you think so, you will not find that I shall want more.

"But there is one thing necessary before you start. I must see you.

There is no reason on earth for our remaining here, except that mamma has not made up her mind. If she will consent to go back before you start, it will be best so. Otherwise, you must take the trouble to come here,--where, I am afraid, you will not be received as a welcome guest. I have told mamma that if I cannot see you here in a manner that is becoming, I shall go out and meet you in the streets, in a manner that is unbecoming.

"Your affectionate--wife that is to be,

"FLORENCE MOUNTJOY."

This letter she took to her mother, and read aloud to her in her own room. Mrs. Mountjoy could only implore that it might not be sent, but prevailed not at all. "There is not a word in it about love," said Florence. "It is simply a matter of business, and as such I must send it. I do not suppose my uncle will go to the length of attempting to lock me up. He would, I think, find it difficult to do so." There was a look in Florence's face as she said this which altogether silenced her mother. She did not think that Sir Magnus would consent to lock Florence up, and she did think that were he to attempt to do so he would find the task very difficult.

CHAPTER XLVI.

M. GRASCOUR.

M. Grascour was a Belgian, about forty years old, who looked as though he were no more than thirty, except that his hair was in patches beginning to be a little gray. He was in the government service of his country, well educated, and thoroughly a gentleman. As is the case with many Belgians, he would have been taken to be an Englishman were his country not known. He had dressed himself in English mirrors, living mostly with the English. He spoke English so well that he would only be known to be a foreigner by the correctness of his language. He was a man of singularly good temper, and there was running through all that he did somewhat of a chivalric spirit, which came from study rather than nature. He had looked into things and seen whether they were good, or at any rate popular, and endeavored to grasp and to make his own whatever he found to be so. He was. .h.i.therto unmarried, and was regarded generally by his friends as a non-marrying man. But Florence Mountjoy was powerful over him, and he set to work to make her his wife. He was intimate at the house of Sir Magnus, and saw, no doubt, that Anderson was doing the same thing. But he saw also that Anderson did not succeed. He had told himself from the first that if Anderson did succeed he would not wish to do so. The girl who would be satisfied with Anderson would hardly content him. He remained therefore quiet till he saw that Anderson had failed. The young man at once took to an altered mode of life which was sufficiently marked. He went, like Sir Proteus, ungartered. Everything about him had of late "demonstrated a careless desolation." All this M.

Grascour observed, and when he saw it he felt that his own time had come.

He took occasion at first to wait upon Lady Mountjoy. He believed that to be the proper way of going to work. He was very intimate with the Mountjoys, and was aware that his circ.u.mstances were known to them.

There was no reason, on the score of money, why he should not marry the niece of Sir Magnus. He had already shown some attention to Florence, which, though it had excited no suspicion in her mind, had been seen and understood by her aunt; and it had been understood also by Mr. Anderson.

"That accursed Belgian! If, after all, she should take up with him! I shall tell her a bit of my mind if anything of that kind should occur."

"My niece, M. Grascour!"

"Yes, my lady." M. Grascour had not quite got over the way of calling Lady Mountjoy "my lady." "It is presumption, I know."

"Not at all."

"I have not spoken to her. Nor would I do so till I had first addressed myself to you or to her mother. May I speak to Mrs. Mountjoy?"

"Oh, certainly. I do not in the least know what the young lady's ideas are. She has been much admired here and elsewhere, and that may have turned her head."

"I think not."

"You may be the better judge, M. Grascour."

"I think that Miss Mountjoy's head has not been turned by any admiration. She does not appear to be a young lady whose head would easily be turned. It is her heart of which I am thinking." The interview ended by Lady Mountjoy pa.s.sing the Belgian lover on to Mrs. Mountjoy.

"Florence!" said Mrs. Mountjoy.

"Yes, Mrs. Mountjoy;--I have the great honor of asking your permission. I am well known to Sir Magnus and Lady Mountjoy, and they can tell what are my circ.u.mstances. I am forty years of age."

"Oh yes; everything is, I am sure, quite as it should be. But my daughter thinks about these things for herself." Then there was a pause, and M. Grascour was about to leave the room, having obtained the permission he desired, when Mrs. Mountjoy thought it well to acquaint him with something of her daughter's condition. "I ought to tell you that my daughter has been engaged."

"Indeed!"

"Yes; and I hardly know how to explain the circ.u.mstances. I should say that she had been promised to her cousin, Captain Scarborough; but to this she will not give her a.s.sent. She has since met a gentleman, Mr.

Annesley, for whom she professes an attachment. Neither can I, nor can her uncle and aunt, hear of Mr. Annesley as a husband for Florence. She is therefore at present disengaged. If you can gain her affections, you have my leave." With this permission M. Grascour departed, professing himself to be contented.

He did not see Florence for two or three days, no doubt leaving the matter to be discussed with her by her mother and her aunt. To him it was quite indifferent what might be the fate of Captain Scarborough, or of Mr. Annesley, or indeed of Mr. Anderson. And, to tell the truth, he was not under any violent fear or hope as to his own fate. He admired Miss Mountjoy, and thought it would be well to secure for a wife such a girl, with such a fortune as would belong to her. But he did not intend to go "ungartered," nor yet to a.s.sume an air of "desolation." If she would come to him, it would be well; if she would not, why, it would still be well. The only outward difference made by his love was that he brushed his clothes and his hair a little more carefully, and had his boots brought to a higher state of polish than was usual.

Her mother spoke to her first. "My dear, M. Grascour is a most excellent man."

"I am sure he is, mamma."