“And is that _all_?” replied his father, much relieved. “Don’t think you are telling us any thing new; we have heard of your pranks abroad, my boy; but you will not make the worse husband for having passed through the fire. And as for your _unalterable_ attachment, that is all nonsense. So I thought, at your age, with _my_ first love; for I had two or three _affairs_ of the sort before I was married; and, indeed, never quite forgot one of my favourites.” “But surely, Sir, with such feelings——!” “Feeling! stuff again,” replied Lord Arlingford. “Why really, Ernest, you have learnt little of the world in your travels; I am sure any one of your young friends would laugh to hear you give such a reason for refusing a most excellent, and, I must add, advantageous marriage.” Although without principles, Ernest was shocked at his father’s levity; he was in all the heroic romance of passion; to love more than one, to plight his faith to another, did not strike him as morally, religiously wrong, but as sacrilege to the one adored being. All he could obtain, however, was delay, and that his father would allow him some little time for reflection. Thus passed some months. Lord Fitzhenry occasionally met the Benson family; but Emmeline he hardly looked at, hardly noticed; although, when in her society, his manner towards her was perfectly civil; but it was the civility of indifference; his thoughts were fixed on another, and had he been asked the colour of Emmeline’s hair or eyes, he probably could not have answered. Spring arrived, and with it Lady Florence. This event did not further Lord Arlingford’s plan. Fitzhenry was more and more decided in his objections, and in his determination not to fulfil what his father called his engagement. Many violent altercations passed between them, and, at last, in one of these agitating scenes, Lord Arlingford was seized with an apoplectic fit, and (as Ernest thought) fell dead at his feet. Horror-stricken, he raised him from the ground; medical assistance was procured, and life and hope returned after some days of dreadful apprehension and suspense; but the impression left on his mind was too strong to allow of further resistance; and, in an unguarded moment, Fitzhenry, attacked on every side, gave his reluctant consent to the hated union. His father allowed him no time to retract. His proposals were immediately made; though not without a secret hope, on Fitzhenry’s part, of their being rejected, which, owing to the marked neglect with which he had ever treated her whose hand he claimed, seemed not unlikely. But, contrary to his expectations, his offer was accepted.