Ernest Maltravers — Volume 08Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
General
Ernest Maltravers — Volume 08
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century
Florence wept, and Lord Saxingham, who was greatly moved, let fall a few
tears also. Perhaps it is too much to say that the pecuniary part of
the proffered arrangement entirely won him over; but still the way it
was introduced softened his heart. He possibly thought that it was
better to have a good and grateful daughter in a country gentleman's
wife, than a sullen and thankless one in a duchess. However that may
be, certain it is, that before Lord Saxingham began his toilet, he
promised to make no obstacle to the marriage, and all he asked in return
was, that at least three months (but that, indeed, the lawyers would
require) should elapse before it took place; and on this understanding
Florence left him, radiant and joyous as Flora herself, when the sun of
spring makes the world a garden. Never had she thought so little of her
beauty, and never had it seemed so glorious, as that happy evening. But
Maltravers was pale and thoughtful, and Florence in vain sought his eyes
during the dinner, which seemed to her insufferably long. Afterwards,
however, they met and conversed apart the rest of the evening; and the
beauty of Florence began to produce upon Ernest's heart its natural
effect; and that evening--ah, how Florence treasured the remembrance of
every hour, every minute of its annals!
It would have been amusing to witness the short conversation between
Lord Saxingham and Maltravers, when the latter sought the earl at night
in his lordship's room. To Lord Saxingham's surprise, not a word did
Maltravers utter of his own subordinate pretensions to Lady Florence's
hand. Coldly, drily, and almost haughtily, did he make the formal
proposals, "as if [as Lord Saxingham afterwards said to Ferrers] the man
were doing me the highest possible honour in taking my daughter, the
beauty of London, with fifty thousand a year, off my hands." But this
was quite Maltravers!--if he had been proposing to the daughter of a
country curate, without a sixpence, he would have been the humblest of
the humble. The earl was embarrassed and discomposed--he was almost
awed by the Siddons-like countenance and Coriolanus-like air of his
future son-in-law-he even hinted nothing of the compromise as to time
which he had made with his daughter. He thought it better to leave it
to Lady Florence to arrange that matter. They shook hands frigidly and
parted. Maltravers went next into Cleveland's room, and communicated
all to the delighted old man, whose congratulations were so fervid that
Maltravers felt it would be a sin not to fancy himself the happiest, man
in the world. That night he wrote his refusal of the appointment
offered him.
The next day, Lord Saxingham went to his office in Downing Street as
usual, and Lady Florence and Ernest found an opportunity to ramble
through the grounds alone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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