Old Saint Paul's: A Tale of the Plague and the Fire. Ainsworth William Harrison

hand in a month, you would yield it to me. I require the fulfilment of your promise."

      "Give me till to-morrow," she replied, distractedly.

      "She has seen Rochester," muttered the apprentice, turning away.

      II.

      IN WHAT MANNER THE GROCER VICTUALLED HIS HOUSE

      Leonard Holt was wrong in his suspicions. Amabel had neither seen nor heard from Rochester. But, if the truth must be told, he was never out of her mind, and she found, to her cost, that the heart will not be controlled. Convinced of her noble lover's perfidy, and aware she was acting wrongfully in cherishing a passion for him, after the exposure of his base designs towards herself, no reasoning of which she was capable could banish him from her thoughts, or enable her to transfer her affections to the apprentice.

      This conflict of feeling produced its natural result. She became thoughtful and dejected—was often in tears—had no appetite—and could scarcely rouse herself sufficiently to undertake any sort of employment. Her mother watched her with great anxiety, and feared—though she sought to disguise it from herself—what was the real cause of her despondency.

      Things were in this position at the end of the month, and it occasioned no surprise to Mrs. Bloundel, though it afflicted her deeply, to find that Amabel sedulously avoided the apprentice's regards on their first meeting. When Doctor Hodges was gone, and the rest of the family had retired, she remarked to her husband, "Before you shut up the house as you propose, I should, wish one important matter settled."

      The grocer inquired what she meant.

      "I should wish to have Amabel married," was the answer.

      "Married!" exclaimed Bloundel, in astonishment. "To whom?"

      "To Leonard Holt."

      Bloundel could scarcely repress his displeasure.

      "It will be time enough to talk of that a year hence," he answered.

      "I don't think so," returned his wife; "and now, since the proper time for the disclosure of the secret has arrived, I must tell you that the gallant who called himself Maurice Wyvil, and whom you so much dreaded, was no other than the Earl of Rochester."

      "Rochester!" echoed the grocer, while an angry flush stained his cheek; "has that libertine dared to enter my house?"

      "Ay, and more than once," replied Mrs. Bloundel.

      "Indeed!" cried her husband, with difficulty controlling his indignation. "When was he here?—tell me quickly."

      His wife then proceeded to relate all that had occurred, and he listened with profound attention to her recital. At its close, he arose and paced the chamber for some time in great agitation.

      At length he suddenly paused, and, regarding his wife with great sternness, observed, in a severe tone, "You have done very wrong in concealing this from me, Honora—very wrong."

      "If I have erred, it was to spare you uneasiness," returned Mrs. Bloundel, bursting into tears. "Doctor Hodges agreed with me that it was better not to mention the subject while you had so many other anxieties pressing upon you."

      "I have a stout heart, and a firm reliance on the goodness of Heaven, which will enable me to bear up against most evils," returned the grocer. "But on this point I ought, under any circumstances, to have been consulted. And I am greatly surprised that Doctor Hodges should advise the contrary."

      "He was influenced, like myself, by the kindliest feelings towards you," sobbed Mrs. Bloundel.

      "Well, well, I will not reproach you further," returned the grocer, somewhat moved by her tears. "I have no doubt you conceived you were acting for the best. But I must caution you against such conduct for the future." After a pause, he added, "Is it your opinion that our poor deluded child still entertains any regard for this profligate nobleman?"

      "I am sure she does," replied Mrs. Bloundel; "and it is from that conviction that I so strongly urge the necessity of marrying her to Leonard Holt."

      "I will never compel her to do anything to endanger her future happiness," returned the grocer. "She must not marry Leonard Holt without loving him. It is better to risk an uncertain evil, than to rush upon a certain one."

      "Then I won't answer for the consequences," replied his wife.

      "What!" cried Bloundel; "am I to understand you have no reliance on Amabel? Has all our care been thrown away?"

      "I do not distrust her," returned Mrs. Bloundel; "but consider whom she has to deal with. She is beset by the handsomest and most fascinating man of the day—by one understood to be practised in all the arts most dangerous to our sex—and a nobleman to boot. Some allowance must be made for her."

      "I will make none," rejoined Bloundel, austerely. "She has been taught to resist temptation in whatever guise it may present itself; and if the principles I have endeavoured to implant within her breast had found lodgment there, she would have resisted it. I am deeply grieved to find this is not the case, and that she must trust to others for protection, when she ought to be able to defend herself."

      The subject was not further discussed, and the grocer and his wife shortly afterwards retired to rest.

      On the following morning, Bloundel remarked to the apprentice as they stood together in the shop, "Leonard, you are aware I am about to shut up my house. Before doing so, I must make certain needful arrangements. I will not disguise from you that I should prefer your remaining with me, but at the same time I beg you distinctly to understand that I will not detain you against your will. Your articles are within two months of expiring; and, if you desire it, I will deliver them to you to-morrow, and release you from the rest of your time."

      "I do not desire it, sir," replied Leonard; "I will remain as long as I can be serviceable to you."

      "Take time for reflection," rejoined his master, kindly. "In all probability, it will be a long confinement, and you may repent, when too late, having subjected yourself to it."

      "Last month's experience has taught me what I have to expect," remarked Leonard, with a smile. "My mind is made up, I will stay with you."

      "I am glad of it," returned Bloundel, "and now I have something further to say to you. My wife has acquainted me with the daring attempt of the Earl of Rochester to carry off Amabel."

      "Has my mistress, also, told you of my attachment to your daughter?" demanded Leonard, trembling, in spite of his efforts to maintain a show of calmness.

      Bloundel nodded an affirmative.

      "And of Amabel's promise to bestow her hand upon me, if I claimed it at the month's end?" continued the apprentice.

      "No!" replied the grocer, a good deal surprised—"I heard of no such promise. Nor was I aware the matter had gone so far. But have you claimed it?"

      "I have," replied Leonard; "but she declined giving an answer till to-day."

      "We will have it, then, at once," cried Bloundel "Come with me to her."

      So saying, he led the way to the inner room, where they found Amabel and her mother. At the sight of Leonard, the former instantly cast down her eyes.

      "Amabel," said her father, in a tone of greater severity than he had ever before used towards her, "all that has passed is known to me. I shall take another and more fitting opportunity to speak to you on your ill-advised conduct. I am come for a different purpose. You have given Leonard Holt a promise (I need not tell you of what nature), and he claims its fulfilment."

      "If he insists upon my compliance," replied Amabel, in a tremulous voice, "I must obey. But it will make me wretched."

      "Then I at once release you," replied Leonard. "I value your happiness far more than my own."

      "You deserve better treatment, Leonard," said Bloundel; "and I am sorry my daughter cannot discern what is for her good. Let us hope that time will work a change in your favour."

      "No," replied the apprentice, bitterly; "I will no longer delude myself with any such vain expectation."

      "Amabel," observed the grocer, "as your father—as