Wilton shook his head, and said that he could in no way divine.

“To marry me, Wilton—­to marry me to a lady rich and fair,” replied the young lord:  “what think you of that, Wilton?—­you who know me, what think you of that?”

“Why, if I must really say the truth,” replied Wilton, “I think the Earl has very naturally considered your happiness before that of the lady.”

“As well gilded a sarcasm that,” replied Lord Sherbrooke, “as if it had come from my father’s own lips.  However, what you say is very true:  the poor unfortunate girl little knows what the slave merchants are devising for her.  My father has dealt with hers, and her father has dealt with mine, and settled all affairs between them, it seems, without our knowledge or participation in any shape.  I was the first of the two parties concerned who received the word of command to march and be married, and as yet the unfortunate victim is unacquainted with the designs against her peace and happiness for life.”

“Nay, nay,” replied Wilton, almost sorrowfully, “speak not so lightly of it.  What have you done, Sherbrooke? for Heaven’s sake, what have you done?  If you have consented to marry, let me hope and trust that you have determined firmly to change your conduct, and not indeed, as you say, to ruin the poor girl’s peace and happiness for life.”

“Oh!  I have consented,” replied Lord Sherbrooke, in the same gay laughing tone; “you do not suppose that I would refuse beauty, and sweetness, and twenty thousand a year.  I am not as mad as my father.  Oh!  I consented directly.  I understand, she is the great beauty of the day.  She will see very little of me, and I shall see very little of her, so we shall not weary of one another.  Oh!  I am a very wise man, indeed.  I only wanted what our friend Launcelot calls ’a trifle of wives’ to be King Solomon himself.  Why you know that for the other cattle which distinguished that great monarch I am pretty well provided.”

Wilton looked down upon the ground with a look of very great pain, while imagination pictured what the future life of some young and innocent girl might be, bound to one so wild, so heedless, and dissolute as Lord Sherbrooke.  He remained silent, however, for he did not dare to trust himself with any farther observations; and when he looked up again, he found his friend gazing at him with an expression on his countenance in some degree sorrowful, in some degree reproachful, but with a look of playful meaning flickering through the whole.

“Now does your solemnity, and your gravity,” said Lord Sherbrooke, “and your not yet understanding me, almost tempt me, Wilton, to play some wild and inconceivable trick, just for the purpose of opening your eyes, and letting you see, that your friend is not such an unfeeling rascal as the world gives out.”

“I know you are not, my dear Sherbrooke—­I am sure you are not,” replied Wilton, grasping warmly the hand which Lord Sherbrooke held out to him; “I was wrong for not seeing that you were in jest, and for not discovering at once that you had not consented.  But how does the Earl bear your refusal?”