Nor use, as they, each courtly wile, But oh, I love thee more.

"The rich, the n.o.ble, and the great, Offer thee wealth, and power, and state, And fortunes running o'er!

How can I smile, when none of these Give me the worldly power to please, Though I may love thee more?

"And yet I hope, because I love With thoughts that set thee far above Vain Fortune's glittering store.

Others may deem thou canst be won By things that sparkle in the sun, But oh, I love thee more.

"I do believe that unto thee Truth, honour, plain sincerity, Are jewels far before All that the others think are dear; And yet far more than they I fear, Because I love thee more.

"I love thee more than all the train Who flaunt, who flatter, and who feign, And vow that they adore: I love thee as men loved of yore-- Ah, no, I love thee more--far more Than man e'er loved before."

"I do not think I could have resisted those verses well sung," cried Isadore, smiling as he concluded, if I had been the most disdainful beauty that ever carried a hawk upon her glove in the days of old.

"What do you say, Marian?"

"I do not know how far my powers of resistance might go," answered Marian de Vaux, "but I should very much like to hear the rest of the story. You say that it is in a drama, Colonel Manners, I think; pray, can it be procured?"

"I am afraid not," answered Manners: "it is the writing of a lady, and has never been given to the world; at least, as far as I know."

"But at all events tell us the fate of the lover," exclaimed Isadore; "that you are bound to do in common charity, after having excited our curiosity."

"Oh, he is made happy, of course," he replied, "as all lovers are, or should be."

"Say _true lovers_, if you please, Colonel Manners," cried Isadore, "and then I will agree; but if a woman were to make happy, as you gentlemen call it before you are married, every impertinent personage who comes up, and making you a low bow, with his hat under his arm, asks you, 'Pray, madam, will you marry me?' as if he were asking you merely to walk a minuet, she would have enough to do, I can a.s.sure you."

"I can easily conceive it," answered Manners, laughing; "but what a clamorous summons that bell makes! pray does it ring for breakfast every morning? I did not near it yesterday."

"That was because you were out having your fortune told when it rang, Colonel Manners," replied Miss Falkland; "but it rings every morning at this hour, and if Mrs. Falkland is not down, it falls to my lot to make the tea. Wherefore I must now remove to the breakfast-room."

Thus saying, she led the way, while her cousin and Colonel Manners followed; and the hot and shining urn having taken its wonted place, she proceeded with the breakfast arrangements, while the butler bustled about, first at the sideboard, and then at the table, looking ever and anon at the two young ladies, and then at Colonel Manners, and then at the fire-place, till, having nothing further to do, he was obliged to retire.

"Gibson looks as if he had some vast secret upon his mind," said Isadore, speaking to her cousin; "did you see, Marian, how he moved about? You must know, Colonel Manners, that that old gentleman is a very privileged person in our family, and often condescends to pour forth the secrets of the village upon us, in despite of all our struggles and reluctance."

"I am sorry he did not gratify himself this morning," said Manners: "there are few things more delightful than a village story well told."

"You were the great obstacle, I am afraid," replied Miss Falkland: "he has his own peculiar notions of decorum, and a visiter is pretty sure of reverence; but I do believe, from his extreme alacrity this morning, that he would have even disregarded your presence had a single word been said to him. But I did not choose to gratify him even by a word; for I knew if I had but said, 'Gibson, bring more b.u.t.ter,'

he would instantly have burst forth with, 'Yes, miss, I'll tell you all about it. The park-keeper's daughter's husband's sister--' and so he would have gone on for an hour."

Colonel Manners could not help laughing, and even Marian smiled at the manner in which her gay cousin imitated the old man's prolixity; but at the same time there was an expression of anxiety on Miss De Vaux's countenance which nothing but the presence of Edward de Vaux could have done away. He had not yet come down, however, and the next person who entered was Mrs. Falkland, whose first observation, after the common salutations of the morning, was, "Why--is not Edward down?

surely he has not grown a sluggard in the wars!"

"Oh no, my dear aunt," replied Marian; "I dare say he was down before we were up, for he told me last night that he was going out early this morning, but would be back to breakfast."

The old butler was just at that moment entering with a partridge pie; and halting in the midst, he exclaimed, "No, indeed, Miss Marian; no, indeed! Master Edward has not come down, because he has never been up."

"Never been up!" said Mrs. Falkland, mistaking the man's meaning; "then you had better send up his servant to wake him, Gibson. But why are you so pale, Marian? what is the matter?"

"Oh, that is not it at all, ma'am," replied the butler, taking upon himself to answer for all parties. "Mr. De Vaux has never been in bed last night, ma'am. His servant told me so this minute. There is the bed turned down, says he, just as the housemaid left it, and his slippers standing by the great chair, and his hat, and sword, and riding-coat gone."

"Nay, Marian, do not look so alarmed," said Isadore, laying her hand affectionately upon that of her cousin. "This will prove all airy nothing, depend upon it; but you had better come away with me, love, and leave mamma and Colonel Manners to sift it; for you will only agitate yourself more than is at all necessary by listening to the miraculous conjectures of every different servant in the house."

"No, no; I would a great deal rather hear all, Isadore," answered Marian, in her usual calm tone, though the excessive paleness which had spread over her countenance evinced clearly enough that her heart was any thing but at ease. "You had better send for Edward's servant, my dear aunt."

Her suggestion was instantly followed, and De Vaux's servant, who had been an old soldier, entered the room, and stood at ease before the party a.s.sembled round the breakfast-table.

"Colonel Manners, will you be so kind"--said Mrs. Falkland.

"Most certainly, my dear madam," replied Manners, understanding her meaning as well as if she had expressed it. "When did you see your master last, William?"

"Last night, sir, at twenty minutes to twelve," said the man. "Did he seem as if he were about to go to bed?" demanded Manners.

"No, sir," replied the servant. "He made me give him his dressing-gown and slippers, but told me not to wait, for that he had a great deal to write before he could go to bed."

Marian's face cleared up a little, for she was glad to imagine that De Vaux might have sat up writing on all the many subjects which she knew occupied his mind till daylight had appeared, and might then have set out at once for the gipsy encampment; but Colonel Manners proceeded:--"Do you know at what time any of the other servants were up?"

"The groom and I were up at five, sir," replied the man, "and it was just dawning then; but as we went along the corridor I saw my master's door ajar, and thinking I must have left it so by carelessness, I just pulled it gently to."

"Were all the horses in the stable?" asked Colonel Manners.

"All, sir," answered the servant.

"And now, William, in what state did you find your master's room?"

demanded Mrs. Falkland.

"Why, madam, I found that n.o.body had been in bed, clearly enough,"

replied the man; "and I found, too, that Captain De Vaux had put off his dressing-gown and slippers, and put on his riding-coat and boots; and I remarked, also, that the curtains of one of the windows were undrawn, and the window itself open."

"Oh, then, I dare say he went out after daylight," said Colonel Manners, "and will soon be back. Shall we ask him any thing further, my dear madam?"

Mrs. Falkland had nothing more to inquire, and the man was dismissed.

"It is as well," said Manners, who knew that De Vaux was the man of all others to be very much mortified, if he came back and found that his absence had been made unnecessarily a nine-day's wonder of--"it is as well to treat this business as quietly as possible, though, I confess, it does seem to me strange that De Vaux should go out so early, so very early, as to be seen by none of the servants, and also should never have gone to bed; but I think Miss De Vaux said just now that he mentioned his intention of going out very early."

"I did so," replied Marian, colouring slightly, from a feeling of embarra.s.sment, in regard to disclosing any part of all that her cousin had confided to her, and yet painfully anxious on his account. "He intended to go to speak with somebody, who gave you, I think, a letter for him yesterday, Colonel Manners."

Manners was not a little anxious for his friend also; but he saw Marian's still deeper anxiety, and he strove tenderly to avoid giving her greater pain than necessary, while he yet continued to investigate the cause of her lover's absence. "Oh, if he be gone to that person who gave me the letter," he said, "De Vaux is safe enough; but, perhaps, he may not be back for an hour or two, as it is a long way, and they may have much to speak of; but yet, Mrs. Falkland, I should like, if you could make an excuse for sending for the housemaid who usually washes the stone steps, to ask her one or two questions."

"Certainly," answered Mrs. Falkland. "If you will ring the bell, I will find some excuse."

The housemaid was accordingly sent for; and holding fast either corner of her ap.r.o.n, presented herself before the company in the breakfast-room. Mrs. Falkland then asked her one or two questions of no particular moment, and Colonel Manners next demanded, somewhat to the girl's surprise, "The mornings are becoming frosty now, are they not, my good girl?"

"Oh, that they are, sir," answered she. "It was all as white this morning as if it had snowed last night."

"And did you see any marks of feet upon the steps?" demanded Manners.

"No, sir, none," replied the girl.

"Are you sure?" repeated Colonel Manners.