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One glance told him that the prostrate, unconscious figure on the ground, with blood slowly oozing from the open mouth, was Raymond Deyncourt. "Great God! the man's dying," he said, dropping on his knees beside him. "He's all right, sir; he'll come to," said a little brisk man, in a complacent, peremptory tone.
"I fear Lady Deyncourt was far, very far, from the truth, but she seems to have made an equitable will. I am glad Miss Deyncourt is not entirely without means; and she has probably something of her own as well. The more I see of that girl the more convinced I am that she is the very wife for Charles.
She had learnt what kind of things offended good taste, and she set herself to avoid them and to school her mother into doing the same. What Mr. Deyncourt thought or felt was not known, though thus much was certain, that he showed himself attentive enough to this promising young convert, and made Mrs. Brandon and other prudent, high-bred matrons somewhat uneasy.
You evidently imagine that I have gone in for the fashionable creed of the young man of the present day. I am not young enough to take pleasure in high collars and cheap cynicism, Miss Deyncourt. Cynical people are never disappointed in others, as I so often am, because they expect the worst.
He talked of music; of songs Italian, French, and English; of American nigger melodies. Would Miss Deyncourt sing? Might he accompany her? Ah! she preferred the simple old English ballads. He loved the simple English ballad. And Ruth, nothing loath, sang in her fresh, clear voice one song after another, Dare accompanying her with rapid sympathy and ease.
You let me go all through the night first. Why was this?" Charles did not answer. "I ask one thing more," continued Dare. "Did you divine two nights ago, from what I said in a moment of confidence, that Miss Deyncourt was the the " "Of course I did," said Charles, sharply. "You made it sufficiently obvious." "Ah!" said Dare. "Ah!" and he shut his eyes and nodded his head several times.
'Who can guess what those wretches have done to him? said Lord Northmoor under his breath. 'Not that I am unthankful for the blessed hope, he added, uncovering his head, 'but I am astounded more than I can say, by this 'It must be invention of the woman, said Mr. Deyncourt. 'I hope so, was the answer. 'Could Miss Rollstone have suspected it?
Dare, who was looking at Ruth, and saw Charles go and sit down by her, brought his song to an abrupt conclusion, and made his way to her also. "You also sing, Miss Deyncourt?" he asked. "I am sure, from your face, you sing." "I do." "Thank Heaven!" said Charles, fervently. "I did you an injustice.
'Then that was the secret! exclaimed Mrs. Rollstone. 'Well, I'll not blame you, child, but you might have told us. Secrets were safe with the ex-butler, but not quite so much so with his wife, though all three tried to impress on her the need of silence, before Mr. Deyncourt hastened out to rejoin Lord Northmoor.
"At the proper time." "And in my sphere? I have tampered with no buns, you will remark, and teapots have been far from me." "I am exceedingly rejoiced my little word in season has been of such use." "It has, Miss Deyncourt. The remark you made this morning I considered honest, though poor, and I laid it to heart accordingly. But," with a change of tone, "you look tired to death.
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