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When she came to the door leading to the staircase, there was Beauclerc, standing with folded arms, as in the music-room; he just bowed his head, and wished Lady Cecilia a good night, and waited, without a word, for Helen to pass, or not to pass, as she thought fit. She saw by his look that he expected explanation; but till she knew what Cecilia meant to do, how could she explain?
His departure from Clarendon Park was openly regretted by Lady Cecilia, while Lady Katrine secretly mourned over the downfall of her projects, and Beauclerc attempted not to disguise his satisfaction. He was all life and love, and would then certainly have declared his passion, but for an extraordinary change which now appeared in Helen's manner towards him.
And with rapidity and confusion, she poured out a multitude of dissuasive arguments, some contradicting the others. "At this time of night! The world is not gone, and Beauclerc is in the midst of them by this time, you may be sure. You don't think he is standing alone there all this time. You could not speak to him before all the world don't attempt it. You would only expose yourself.
Set, did we say? no: "cast your hawk on the perch" is, Beauclerc observed, the correct term; for, as Horace sarcastically remarked, Mr. Beauclerc might be detected as a novice in the art by his over-exactness; his too correct, too attic, pronunciation of the hawking language.
When the general and Beauclerc did agree in opinion about a book, which was not a circumstance of frequent occurrence, they were mutually delighted; one always feeling the value of the other's practical sense, and the other then acknowledging that literature is good for something.
He stood full across the path. "Miss Stanley, one word by one word, one look decide. You must decide for me whether I stay or go for ever!" "I! Mr. Beauclerc! The look of astonishment more than astonishment, almost of indignation silenced him completely, and he stood dismayed. She pressed onwards, and he no longer stopped her path. For an instant he submitted in despair.
But that would not do, she must have a moonlight walk; she threw open the conservatory door, beckoned to Mr. Beauclerc, and how it ended Helen did not stay to see. She thought that she ought not even to think on the subject, and she went away as fast as she could. It was late, and she went to bed wishing to be up early, to go on with a drawing she was to finish for Mrs.
The aid-de-camp stooped for it Lady Cecilia pitied it Lady Davenant pronounced it to be Helen's own fault Beauclerc understood how it happened, and said nothing. "But, Helen," cried Lady Cecilia, as she re-appeared, "but, Helen, are you not coming with us?"
"Oh, by no means," cried Churchill, "don't note me, do not quote me, I am nobody, and I cannot give up my authorities." "But the truth is all I want to get at," said Beauclerc. "Let her rest, my dear sir, at the bottom of her well; there she is, and there she will be for ever and ever, and depend upon it none of our windlassing will ever bring her up."
"Are not we walking very fast?" said she, breathless. He slackened his pace instantly, and with a delighted look, while she, in a hurried voice, added, "But do not let me delay you. There is the boat. You must be in haste impatient!" "In haste! impatient! to leave you, Helen!" She blushed deeper than he had ever seen her blush before. Beauclerc in general knew
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