He had hoped to be a little sentimental with Lady Blandish, knowing her romantic. This mixture of the harshest common sense and an air of "I know you men," with romance and refined temperament, subdued the wise youth more than a positive accusation supported by witnesses would have done. He looked at the lady. Her face was raised to the moon. She knew nothing--she had simply spoken from the fulness of her human knowledge, and had forgotten her words. Perhaps, after all, her admiration, or whatever feeling it was, for the baronet, was sincere, and really the longing for a virtuous man. Perhaps she had tried the opposite set pretty much. Adrian shrugged. Whenever the wise youth encountered a mental difficulty he instinctively lifted his shoulders to equal altitudes, to show that he had no doubt there was a balance in the case-- plenty to be said on both sides, which was the same to him as a definite solution. At their tryst in the wood, abutting on Raynham Park, wrapped in themselves, piped to by tireless Love, Richard and Lucy sat, toying with eternal moments. How they seem as if they would never end! What mere sparks they are when they have died out! And how in the distance of time they revive, and extend, and glow, and make us think them full the half, and the best of the fire, of our lives! With the onward flow of intimacy, the two happy lovers ceased to be so shy of common themes, and their speech did not reject all as dross that was not pure gold of emotion. Lucy was very inquisitive about everything and everybody at Raynham. Whoever had been about Richard since his birth, she must know the history of, and he for a kiss will do her bidding. Thus goes the tender duet: "You should know my cousin Austin, Lucy.--Darling! Beloved!" "My own! Richard!" "You should know my cousin Austin. You shall know him. He would take to you best of them all, and you to him. He is in the tropics now, looking out a place--it's a secret--for poor English working-men to emigrate to and found a colony in that part of the world:--my white angel!" "Dear love!" "He is such a noble fellow! Nobody here understands him but me. Isn't it strange? Since I met you I love him better! That's because I love all that's good and noble better now--Beautiful! I love--I love you!" "My Richard!" "What do you think I've determined, Lucy? If my father--but no! my father does love me.--No! he will not; and we will be happy together here. And I will win my way with you. And whatever I win will be yours; for it will be owing to you. I feel as if I had no strength but yours-- none! and you make me--O Lucy!" His voice ebbs. Presently Lucy murmurs-- "Your father, Richard." "Yes, my father?" "Dearest Richard! I feel so afraid of him." "He loves me, and will love you, Lucy." "But I am so poor and humble, Richard." "No one I have ever seen is like you, Lucy." "You think so, because you"-- "What?"