Day after day, during Wilton’s stay, the same bright round of happy hours succeeded.  During the whole of the first part of his sojourn, the Duke was unable to go out, and Wilton and Lady Laura were left very much alone.  Wilton felt no hesitation in regard to his conduct.  He could not believe, he scarcely even feared, that the Duke was blind to the mutual love which existed between Laura and himself; and he only waited till his own fate was cleared up, to speak to her father upon the subject openly.

Thus passed his visit; and we could pause upon it long, could paint many a scene of sweet and sunshiny happiness, warm, and soft, and beautiful, like the pictures of Claude de Lorraine:  but we have other things to do, and scenes far less joyous to dwell upon.  The time of his stay at length expired, and of course seemed all the more brief for being happy.

If the sojourn of Wilton at Somersbury Court had given pleasure to Laura, it gave scarcely less to the Duke himself, though in a different way; and when his young visitor was gone, he felt a want and a vacancy which made the days seem tedious.  Thus, shortly after Wilton’s arrival in town, he received a letter from the Duke, begging him not to forget his promise of another speedy visit of longer duration, nor neglect the opportunity of each week’s close to spend at least one day with him and Laura.  The origin of these feelings towards his young friend was certainly to be traced to the somewhat forced confidence which he had been obliged to place in him, in regard to Sir John Fenwick; but the feelings survived the cause; and during six weeks which followed, although Sir John Fenwick was universally supposed to have made his escape from England, and the Duke felt himself quite safe, Wilton experienced no change of manner, but was greeted with gladness and smiles whenever he presented himself.

On every occasion, too, the Earl of Byerdale showed him self as kind as it was possible for him to be; and in one instance, in the middle of the year, spoke to him more seriously than usual, in regard to his marriage with Lady Laura.  The tone he took was considerate and thoughtful, and Wilton found that he could no longer give a vague reply upon the subject.

“I need not say to your lordship,” he said, “how grateful I feel to you in this business; but I really can tell you no more than you see.  I am received by the Duke and Lady Laura, upon all occasions, with the greatest kindness and every testimony of regard.  I am received, indeed, when no one else is received, and I have every reason to believe that the Duke regards me almost as a son; but of course I cannot presume, so long as I can give no information of who I am, what is my family, what are the circumstances and history of my birth, to seek the Duke’s approbation to my marriage with his daughter.  Fortuneless and portionless as I must be, the proposal may seem presumptuous enough at any time; and though the legend told us, my lord, to ‘be bold, and bold, and everywhere be bold,’ it told us also to ‘be not too bold.’”