Lady Stephenson pressed his hand, and said nothing; but a deep sigh escaped her. Lady Elizabeth, who was not accustomed to manifest her feelings so gently, rose from her seat on the sofa, and placing herself immediately before him, said, with great vehemence, "Montague Hubert, son of my dead sister, you are come to years of discretion, and a trifle beyond.... Your magnificent estate of thirteen hundred a year, and ... I beg your pardon ... some odd pounds, shillings, and pence over, is all your own, and you may marry Mrs. Barnaby herself, if you please, and settle it upon her. No one living that I know of has any power to prevent it.... But, sir, if you expect that Lady Elizabeth Norris will ever receive as her niece a girl artful enough to conceal from me and from your sister the fact that she was engaged to you, and that, too, while receiving from both of us the most flattering attention ... nay, such affection as might have opened any heart not made of brass and steel ... if you expect this, you will find yourself altogether mistaken." This harangue, which her ladyship intended to be overpoweringly severe, was, in fact, very nearly the most agreeable one that Colonel Hubert could have listened to, for it touched only on a subject of offence that he was perfectly able to remove. All embarrassment immediately disappeared from his manner; and springing up to place himself between his aunt and the door, to which she was approaching with stately steps, he said, in a voice almost of exultation, "My dearest aunt!... How like your noble self it is to have made this objection before every other!... And this objection, which would indeed have been fatal to every hope of happiness, I can remove by a single word.... Agnes was as ignorant of my love for her as you and Emily could be till last night ... I have loved her ... longer, it may be, than I have known it myself ... perhaps I might date it from the first hour I saw her, but she knew nothing of it.... Last night, for the first time, I confessed to her my love.... And what think you, Lady Elizabeth, was her answer?" "Nay, Mr. Benedict, I know not.... 'I thank you, sir,' and a low courtesy, I suppose." "I was less happy, Lady Elizabeth," he replied, half smiling; adding a moment after, however, with a countenance from which all trace of gaiety had passed away, "The answer of Miss Willoughby to my offer of marriage was ... Colonel Hubert, I can never be your wife." "Indeed!... Then how comes it, Montague, that you still talk of making her so?" "Because, before I left her, I thought I saw some ground for hope that her refusal was not caused by any personal dislike to me." "Really!..." interrupted Lady Elizabeth. "Nay, my dear aunt!" resumed Hubert, "you may in your kind and long-enduring partiality fancy this impossible; but, unhappily for my peace at that moment, I remembered that I was more than five-and-thirty, and she not quite eighteen."