“Yes, my lord, he is dead. I understood
you to say that you had already heard it; and, unless
my ears deceived me, you explained that his demise
was the immediate cause of your present visit.
I cannot, however, go so far as to say that I think
you have exercised a sound discretion in the matter.
In expressing such an opinion, however, I am far from
wishing to utter anything which may be irritating or
offensive to your feelings.”
“Upon my word then, I never heard a word about
it till this moment! Poor Harry! And is
Fanny much cut up?”
“Miss Wyndham is much afflicted.”
“I wouldn’t for worlds annoy her, or press
on her at such a moment. Pray tell her, Lord
Cashel, how deeply I feel her sorrows: pray tell
her this, with my kindest—best compliments.”
This termination was very cold—but so was
Lord Cashel’s face. His lordship had also
risen from his chair; and Frank saw it was intended
that the interview should end. But he would now
have been glad to stay. He wanted to ask a hundred
questions;—how the poor lad had died? whether
he had been long ill?—whether it had been
expected? But he saw that he must go; so he rose
and putting out his hand which Lord Cashel just touched,
he said,
“Good bye, my lord. I trust, after a few
months are gone by, you may see reason to alter the
opinion you have expressed respecting your ward.
Should I not hear from you before then, I shall again
do myself the honour of calling at Grey Abbey; but
I will write to Miss Wyndham before I do so.”
Lord Cashel had the honour of wishing Lord Ballindine
a very good morning, and of bowing him to the door;
and so the interview ended.
When Lord Cashel had seen Frank over the mat which
lay outside his study door, and that there was a six
foot servitor to open any other door through which
he might have to pass, he returned to his seat, and,
drawing his chair close to the fire, began to speculate
on Fanny and her discarded lover.
He was very well satisfied with himself, and with
his own judgment and firmness in the late conversation.
It was very evident that Frank had heard of Harry
Wyndham’s death, and of Fanny’s great accession
of wealth; that he had immediately determined that
the heiress was no longer to be neglected, and that
he ought to strike while the iron was hot: hence
his visit to Grey Abbey. His pretended ignorance
of the young man’s death, when he found he could
not see Miss Wyndham, was a ruse; but an old bird
like Lord Cashel was not to be caught with chaff.
And then, how indelicate of him to come and press his
suit immediately after news of so distressing a nature
had reached Miss Wyndham! How very impolitic,
thought Lord Cashel, to show such a hurry to take
possession of the fortune!—How completely
he had destroyed his own game. And then, other
thoughts passed through his mind. His ward had
