of Holly Lodge. Georgie, with an unusual colour in her face, which was set off by the drooping ruffle of lace about her soft throat, came in to her mother’s room for a kiss & a word or two. Now that Guy’s ring had really been sent back, she seemed to have nerved herself to go through the day resolutely; & with a quick, firm step, & her head higher than its wont she went downstairs to meet her suitor. Lord Breton was leaning against the mantel-piece where Guy had stood yesterday; & it would have been hard to find a greater contrast to that handsome young gentleman than Georgie’s noble lover. Fifty-eight years of what is commonly called hard living had left heavy traces on what in its day was known as a fine figure; & in the Lord Breton whom some few could remember as “that gay young buck” the present generation saw nothing but a gray gouty old gentleman, who evidently enjoyed his port wine & sherry generously. He came forward as Georgie entered, & bending over her hand (it was not the hand that Guy had kissed) said, pompously: “I need not say how deeply I feel the honour you confer on me, Miss Rivers. This is indeed a happy day!” “Thank you,” said Georgie, with a wild desire to draw her hand away; “you are very kind, Lord Breton.” “No, no,” returned his lordship affably; “I only rejoice in being allowed to call mine a young lady so abundantly endowed with every charm as Miss Rivers—as—May I call you Georgina?” Georgie started; no one had ever called her by her name, preferring the boyish abbreviation which seemed to suit her lively, plump prettiness best; but, after all, it was better he should not call her as Guy did. Georgina was more suitable for the future Lady Breton. “You have won the right to do so,” she said, as she sat down, & Lord Breton took a chair opposite, at an admiring distance. “A most precious right,” he replied, conjuring up the ghost of what some might recall as a fascinating smile; but which was more like a bland leer to the eye unassisted by memory. “Let me assure you,” he continued, “that I know how little a man of my advanced years deserves to claim the attention of a young lady in the lovely bloom of youth; but—ahem—I hope that the name, the title—& above all the respect & esteem which I lay at her feet may compensate—” he paused, & evidently wondered that Georgie did not reply to this sublime condescension; but as she was silent, he was forced to take up the thread of his speech. “As I said in my letter, you will remember, Miss … Ah … Georgina—as I said in my letter, I do not see why difference of age should be an obstacle to a happy union; & as—ahem—& since your views so happily coincide with mine, permit me to—to adorn this lovely hand with—a—with—” here Lord Breton, finding that his eloquence had for the moment run dry, supplied the lack of speech by action, & producing a brilliant ruby set in large diamonds, slipped it on Georgie’s passive hand. “I hope you will accept this, as a slight token of—of …” “It is very beautiful,” said Georgie, colouring with pleasure, as the dark fire of the ruby set off the whiteness of her hand. “You are most generous. But you will forgive me if I do not wear it, at least in public. I should prefer not to have the engagement announced at once.” Lord Breton looked justly astonished, as he might have done if a crossing-sweeper to whom he had tossed a shilling had flung it back in his face. “May I ask why this—this secrecy must be preserved?” he said, in a tone of profound, but suppressed, indignation; remembering, just in time, that though the wife is a legitimate object of wrath, it is wise to restrain one’s self during courtship. “I am going to shew you what a spoiled child I am, by refusing to tell you,” said Georgie, putting on an air of imperious mischievousness to hide her growing agitation, “& I know you will humour me. I am so used to having my own way, that it might be dangerous to deprive me of it!” If she had not said this with a most enchanting smile, naughty & yet appealing, Lord Breton might not have been so easily appeased; but being charmed with this pretty display of wilfulness (as men are apt to be before marriage) & concluding that her mother might have something to do with the obstruction she would not name, he only said, with a bow, “The loss is on my side, however! I shall count the days until I can proclaim to the world what a prize I have won.” Georgie laughed; a sweet, little bird-like laugh, which was as resistless as her pout. “You pay me so many compliments that I shall be more spoiled than ever! But you will not have to wait long, I promise you.” “No waiting can be very long while I am privileged to enjoy your companionship,” said Lord Breton, rising to the moment triumphantly. “Oh, for shame! Worse & worse!” cried Georgie. “But I think Mamma is in the study. Won’t you come in & see her?”
—————
III.
Jilted.
——“There can be no reason
Why, when quietly munching your dry-toast & butter
Your nerves should be suddenly thrown in a flutter
At the sight of a neat little letter addressed
In a woman’s handwriting.”
Robert Lytton: Lucile.
Guy Hastings was finishing an unusually late breakfast at his favourite resort in London, Swift’s Club, St. James St., on the morning after his parting with Georgie, when a note addressed in her well-known hand, with its girlish affectation of masculiness, was handed to him by a Club servant. Although he was surprised that she should have written so soon, (she seldom, during his trips to London, wrote to him at all) he was not excited by any stronger emotion than surprise & slight curiosity, for the words that passed between them the day before had appeared to him nothing more than a lover’s quarrel developed by bad weather & ennui & he was too well accustomed to unaccountable phases in his cousin’s April character to imagine that anything serious could be its consequence. A man, however, who is as deeply in love as Guy was, does not have a letter in the beloved one’s handwriting long unopened; & though a pile of other envelopes “To Guy Hastings Esqr.” were pushed aside until fuller leisure after breakfast, he broke Georgie’s seal at once. One glance at the hurriedly written lines sufficed to change the aspect of life completely. At first there came a sense of blank bewilderment, followed, upon reflection, by indignation at this undeserved slight; & these emotions combined were enough to make him turn from the breakfast-table, thrusting the package which contained the ring into his breast-pocket, to escape from the clatter & movement of the breakfast room. One might have supposed that every member of the club would be off shooting, fishing, hunting or travelling at this unfashionable time, but of course, as Guy went down to take refuge in the reading-room he was fastened upon by a veteran club bore, who talked to him for half an hour by the clock, while all the time Georgie’s note was burning in his pocket. At last the bore discovered that he had an engagement, & with deep regret (more for Guy’s sake than his own) was obliged to break off in the midst of an Indian anecdote; but he was replaced almost immediately by Capt. Doublequick of the __th, who always had a new scandal to feast his friends on, & now for dearth of listeners, came to tell Guy the fullest details of “that affair with young Wiggins & the little French Marquise.” This delectable history, embellished with the Capt.’s usual art, lasted fully another half hour; & Guy was in the last stages of slow torture when the unconscious Doublequick espied a solitary man at the other end of the room who had not heard all about “young Wiggins.” Left to himself, Guy, with the masculine instinct of being always as comfortable as possible, settled himself in an armchair, & reread Georgie’s note, slowly, carefully & repeatedly, as though he fancied it might be an optical delusion after all. But it was one of Georgie’s virtues to write a clear hand. The cruel words were there, & remained the same, read them as he would. At last, as he sat half-stupidly staring at the few lines, a purpose formed itself within him to write at once & ask the meaning of them. Think as he would, he could not remember having, by word or act, justified Georgie in sending him such a letter; & he concluded that the best thing & the simplest he could do, was to demand an explanation. He loved her too deeply & reverently to believe that she could mean to throw him over thus; he thought he knew the depths & shallows of her character, & though he was not blind to her faults, he would never have accused her, even in the thought, of such unwarranted heartlessness. Having determined, then, on this first step, he called for pen & paper, & after tearing up several half-written sheets, folded & sealed this letter.
What have I done to deserve the
