Grace burst into a flood of tears, as her lover, interested deeply in
their cause, gently drew her towards him. Her head sank on his shoulder,
as she faintly whispered something that was inaudible, but which he did
not fail to interpret into everything he most wished to hear. John was
in ecstasies. Every unpleasant feeling of suspicion had left him. Of
Grace's innocence of manoeuvring he never doubted, but John did not
relish the idea of being entrapped into anything, even a step which he
desired. An uninterrupted communication followed; it was as confiding as
their affections: and the return of the dowager and her children first
recalled them to the recollection of other people.
One glance of the eye was enough for Lady Chatterton. She saw the traces
of tears on the cheeks and in the eyes of Grace, and the dowager was
satisfied; she knew his friends would not object; and as Grace attended
her to her dressing-room, she cried on entering it, "Well, child, when
is the wedding to be? You will wear me out with so much gaiety."
Grace was shocked, but did not as formerly weep over her mother's
interference in agony and dread. John had opened his whole soul to her,
observing the greatest delicacy towards her mother, and she now felt her
happiness placed in the keeping of a man whose honor she believed much
exceeded that of any other human being.
Chapter XXXII.
The seniors of the party at Benfield Lodge were all assembled one
morning in a parlor, when its master and the baronet were occupied in
the perusal of the London papers. Clara had persuaded her sisters to
accompany her and Francis in an excursion as far as the village.
Jane yet continued reserved and distant to most of her friends; while
Emily's conduct would have escaped unnoticed, did not her blanched cheek
and wandering looks at times speak a language not to be misunderstood.
With all her relatives she maintained the affectionate intercourse she
had always supported; though not even to her aunt did the name of
Denbigh pass her lips. But in her most private and humble petitions to
God, she never forgot to mingle with her requests for spiritual
blessings on herself, fervent prayers for the conversion of the
preserver of her life.
Mrs. Wilson, as she sat by the side of her sister at their needles,
first discovered an unusual uneasiness in their venerable host, while he
turned his paper over and over, as if unwilling or unable to comprehend
some part of its contents, until he rang the bell violently, and bid the
servant to send Johnson to him without a moment's delay.
"Peter," said Mr. Benfield doubtingly, "read that--your eyes are young,
Peter; read that."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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