“I Daurna Think of Janir, for that Wad Be a Sin.”

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CHAPTER XX

“I DAURNA THINK ON JAMIE FOR THAT WAD BE A SIN”

NOT many days after the delightful episode recorded in the last chapter, my Lady rejoiced in another betrothal, less romantic certainly than that we have just witnessed, but scarcely less satisfactory.

Sir Godfrey Templar, – always one of the most restless men in the world, while Parliament was not sitting – had during the autumn amused himself by careering about the coasts of the Mediterranean in his yacht; and towards the beginning of November, finding the weather unsuitable for further cruises, and understanding that the Cairnsmuirs had arrived in Paris for the season, he left his boat and crew to make their way home from one of the Channel islands, and set off alone for the inland pleasures of the “citta ridente.”

When he presented himself at the Hotel du Louvre, to call upon the Earl and Countess therein domiciled, the incident was productive of more gratification to my Lord and Lady than a visit from the Sultan himself would have afforded them. For, as it has been already set forth, Sir Godfrey was a distinguished Member of the Cabinet, not only active but really influential in the Conservative interest, an implacable opponent of all new measures, and – (himself a descendant of the original Heptarchists,) – a staunch upholder of monarchial rights and of the House of Peers. And this was not all, for the leonine baronet was already famous as one of the most subtle essayists and apologists of the age; his foreign adventures and researches were everywhere renowned, and the influx of worldly pelf which the tide of Fortune annually bore to him was authoritatively reported to equal that of the Premier.

These being the exceptionally brilliant circumstances of Sir Godfrey’s

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career, and Lady Ella being, – as long since has been related, – incapacitated by the patent of the Cairnsmuir peerage from transmitting the family title to posterity, – the Earl believed, and his wife was certain that their daughter could not mate more suitably than with this blue-blooded, anciently extracted and potential statesman.

Now this was precisely the opinion which had been formed by Sir Godfrey himself, not indeed from motives of base design upon Ella’s broad acres, or from any unworthy desire to ally himself with the haute noblesse, but because Lady Ella’s good sense and gentle manners had really captivated him, and he loved her with the genuine stedfast affection of mature age and experienced judgment. Perceiving from the manner of the reception with which the Earl and Countess greeted his unexpected arrival in Paris that they evidently believed him to have joined them there with an object, Sir Godfrey making use of a well-tempered discernment, divined that the time was ripe for a declaration, and resolved to take advantage of his opportunity.

Accordingly, few days were suffered to elapse before the gallant statesman requested a private interview with Lord Hubert, and this being duly conceded, a scene ensued in the real old Conservative style of fifty years ago, which ruled it to be ungentlemanlike and dishonourable in a lover to communicate his ardent sentiments and desires to the lady of his heart, before submitting them to the approval of her paternal parent. After the ancient and registered etiquette therefore, Sir Godfrey unbosomed his love and sought the countenance of his friend to the projected suit, and in like well-bred fashion the Earl obtended his approbation, promised his support, and discussed the settlements. Next, my Lady was informed of the proceedings, and a pledge of her favour secured; but it was decided, after some conversation, that the actual proposal should in the first place reach the ears of Ella from Sir Godfrey’s own lips. A fitting occasion was prepared for this important ceremony, then the necessary question was asked, the desired response obtained, and the

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initiatory kiss exchanged, with such signal éclat and perfection of success as fairly surprised my Lady; and appeared to afford immense satisfaction to everybody concerned in the affair. Only the bride elect, – as brides of the old school should be, – was modestly subdued and sober, accepting with undemonstrative grace the congratulations which inundated her from every quarter, and acquiescing with quiet dignity in all such arrangements for her future career or ménage, as her father and mother saw proper to suggest.

For, truth to tell, Ella sincerely believed that her heart had been broken and her fortunes wrecked by that terrible revelation concerning the birth of Tristan Le Rodeur; and the anguish of her suffering on that score was still so keen and appalling that she naturally conceived it to be ineradicable, and persuaded herself that since all of hers had been ventured upon that fatal die, – and lost, – life had no more to bring her, and it could matter little what she did with the remainder of her evil days. To have been actually guilty of a sort of moral incest, to have repeated in the nineteenth century the crime of Byblis, and to have actually fallen in love with her own half-brother, and by too careless a guardianship of her secret to have so pressed upon Lady Cairnsmuir the discovery of it as to compel her mother into a reluctant and premature disclosure – these were considerations of such a horrible and awful nature that Ella was disposed to accept with readiness any mode of effectually vindicating a position she feared she must have forfeited in her mother’s estimation, and of effacing from her own mind the absorbing memory of her dreadful disappointment, by surrounding herself with new prospects and associations. Sir Godfrey, although he had inspired her with no fervent emotion, was not at all disagreeable to Lady Ella; she entertained for him both warm affection and high regard, revered his knowledge, admired his knightly courtesy and ready affability, and would have trusted his honour as implicitly as the Chevalier Bayard’s. With such a substantial basis of friendship already established, Ella believed, with

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good reason, that the love she was now asked to bestow would follow in due course; and if her heart did not exactly thrill nor her cheek burn at the sound of her new lover’s footstep, she felt amply assured that she should at least act sensibly by placing her future life in his hands, that her worldly career would be of a brilliant and distinguished order, and her home unembittered by marital oppression or neglect.

So the engagement was announced as a settled affair, and all Paris within two miles round the Tuileries – (alas poor Tuileries!) – discussed ”probabilities” over souchong, chocolate and parfait amour. I feel inclined at this point of my narrative to indulge in a little of that chatty familiar style of moralising, technically denominated “padding”; for a great many reflections suggest themselves à propos of Lady Ella’s romantic love and unromantic betrothal, the frequency of such coincidences in society and the results which usually ensue therefrom. But I forbear – the object of a novel is pure and simple – to amuse, and it is hateful to open a soi-disant storybook and find it a bare treatise, with just a typical character or two thrown in for a text. And as the time presses, and there are plenty of folks awaiting their turn before the footlights, let us not sit too long contemplating the moveless inanimate beauties of the “drop,” and hearing the windy uninteresting tuning of cornets and fiddles; but pray good Mister Manager, look sharp with the bell, up with the curtain, and on with the chorus, or the procession, or the ballet, or whatever else you may have in store for us.