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Updated: May 12, 2025
But just before they started, as all were assembling without the front door, the postman arrived with his welcome bag. There were letters for Harley, some for Levy, many for Egerton, one for Randal Leslie. Levy, soon hurrying over his own correspondence, looked, in the familiar freedom wherewith he usually treated his particular friends, over Randal's shoulder. "From the squire?" said he.
Harry liked her from the first, and then you'll be Frank's brother, and your sound head and good heart will keep him right. Randal's hand grasped the squire's, and with an emotion of human gratitude, for we know that, hard to all else, he had natural feelings for his fallen family; and his neglected sister was the one being on earth whom he might almost be said to love.
Or was he merely playing a part in Riccabocca's interest; pretending to be the lover, in order to obtain an influence over her mind, rule her through her ambition, and secure an ally against her brother? Was this finesse compatible with Randal's notions of Harley's character?
"You have for once lighted on a solemn truth," puts in Randal's aunt grimly. "Let us hope you are getting sense." "Or a wise tooth," says Colonel Neilson, with a friendly smile at Tita. "Lady Rylton is very nearly old enough to be thinking of that now." "As for that wretched Mrs.
Harley alone but Levy had so positively assured him that Harley was not sincerely anxious for Egerton; and as to the more important explanation relative to Peschiera, surely what had satisfied Violante's father ought to satisfy a man who had no peculiar right to demand explanations at all; and if these explanations did not satisfy, the onus to disprove them must rest with Harley; and who or what could contradict Randal's plausible assertions, assertions in support of which he himself could summon a witness in Baron Levy?
There was first his father; that oughtn't in the nature of things to have complicated matters at all but it was complicated, because there was no knowing what a man like that would do. He might let the family down so badly; it was almost like having gunpowder in your cellar. Randal had thought him absurd. Robin saw that clearly, and Randal's opinion was that of all truly sensible people.
And Randal's probity being now clear to him, he repeated, with stately formalities, his previous offer of Violante's hand. "But," still falteringly sighed the provident and far-calculating Randal "but your only child, your sole heiress! Your lands, your principalities, to devolve on the child of an humble Englishman! I dare not believe it. Ah, would Violante were not your heiress!"
Randal's words had sunk deep, and rankled sorely in the squire's mind; and that impression imparted a certain coldness to his manner which belied the hearty, forgiving, generous impulse with which he had come up to London, and which even Randal had not yet altogether whispered away.
Perhaps Dick was not sorry to wait until Randal's marriage gave him the means to make the repayment. Nay, perhaps Randal had been thrown over for the present, in order to wring from him better terms in a single election. Thus reasoning, he took comfort from his belief in the mercenary motives of another. True; it might be but a short disappointment.
RANDAL advanced "I fear, Signor Riccabocca, that I am guilty of some want of ceremony." "To dispense with ceremony is the most delicate mode of conferring a compliment," replied the urbane Italian, as he recovered from his first surprise at Randal's sudden address, and extended his hand. Violante bowed her graceful head to the young man's respectful salutation.
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