CHAPTER VII.

  _Containing a Very Important Communication_.

  BETWEEN the unexpected meeting with Captain Armine in the morning andthe evening assembly at Bellair House, a communication had been made byMiss Temple to Lord Montfort, which ought not to be quite unnoticed.She had returned home with his mother and himself, and her silence anddepression had not escaped him. Soon after their arrival they were leftalone, and then Henrietta said, 'Digby, I wish to speak to you!'

  'My own!' said Lord Montfort, as he seated himself by her on the sofa,and took her hand.

  Miss Temple was calm; but he would have been a light observer who hadnot detected her suppressed agitation.

  'Dearest Digby,' she continued, 'you are so generous and so kind, thatI ought to feel no reluctance in speaking to you upon this subject; andyet it pains me very much.' She hesitated.

  'I can only express my sympathy with any sorrow of yours, Henrietta,'said Lord Montfort. 'Speak to me as you always do, with that franknesswhich so much delights me.'

  'Let your thoughts recur to the most painful incident of my life, then,'said Henrietta.

  'If you require it,' said Lord Montfort, in a serious tone.

  'It is not my fault, dearest Digby, that a single circumstance connectedwith that unhappy event should be unknown to you. I wished originallythat you should know all. I have a thousand times since regrettedthat your consideration for my feelings should ever have occasioned animperfect confidence between us; and something has occurred to-day whichmakes me lament it bitterly.'

  'No, no, dearest Henrietta; you feel too keenly,' said Lord Montfort.

  'Indeed, Digby, it is so,' said Henrietta very mournfully.

  'Speak, then, dearest Henrietta.'

  'It is necessary that you should know the name of that person who onceexercised an influence over my feelings, which I never affected todisguise to you.'

  'Is it indeed necessary?' enquired Lord Montfort.

  'It is for my happiness,' replied Henrietta.

  'Then, indeed, I am anxious to learn it.'

  'He is in this country,' said Henrietta, 'he is in this town; he may bein the same room with you to-morrow; he has been in the same room withme even this day.'

  'Indeed!' said Lord Montfort.

  'He bears a name not unknown to you,' said Henrietta, 'a name, too, thatI must teach myself to mention, and yet------'

  Lord Montfort rose and took a pencil and a sheet of paper from thetable, 'Write it,' he said in a kind tone.

  Henrietta took the pencil, and wrote,

  'Armine.'

  'The son of Sir Ratcliffe?' said Lord Montfort.

  'The same,' replied Henrietta.

  'You heard then of him last night?' enquired her companion.

  'Even so; of that, too, I was about to speak.'

  'I am aware of the connection of Mr. Glastonbury with the Arminefamily,' said Lord Montfort, quietly.

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  There was a dead pause. At length Lord Montfort said, 'Is there anythingyou wish me to do?'

  'Much,' said Henrietta. 'Dearest Digby,' she continued, after a moment'shesitation, 'do not misinterpret me; my heart, if such a heart be worthpossessing, is yours. I can never forget who solaced me in my misery; Ican never forget all your delicate tenderness, Digby. Would that Icould make a return to you more worthy of all your goodness; but if thegrateful devotion of my life can repay you, you shall be satisfied.'

  He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. 'It is of you, and of yourhappiness that I can alone think,' he murmured.

  'Now let me tell you all,' said Henrietta, with desperate firmness. 'Ihave done this person great injustice.'

  'Hah!' said Lord Montfort.

  'It cuts me to the heart,' said Henrietta.

  'You have then misconceived his conduct?' enquired Lord Montfort.

  'Utterly.'

  'It is indeed a terrible situation for you,' said Lord Montfort; 'forall of us,' he added, in a lower tone.

  'No, Digby; not for all of us; not even for myself; for if you are happyI will be. But for him, yes! I will not conceal it from you, I feel forhim.'

  'Your destiny is in your own hands, Henrietta.'

  'No, no, Digby; do not say so,' exclaimed Miss Temple, very earnestly;'do not speak in that tone of sacrifice. There is no need of sacrifice;there shall be none. I will not, I do not falter. Be you firm. Do notdesert me in this moment of trial. It is for support I speak; it is forconsolation. We are bound together by ties the purest, the holiest. Whoshall sever them? No! Digby, we will be happy; but I am interested inthe destiny of this unhappy person. You, you can assist me in renderingit more serene; in making him, perhaps, not less happy than ourselves.'

  'I would spare no labour,' said Lord Montfort.

  'Oh, that you would not!' exclaimed Miss Temple. 'You are so good,so noble! You would sympathise even with him. What other man in yoursituation would?'

  'What can be done?'

  'Listen: he was engaged to his cousin even on that fatal day when wefirst met; a lady with every charm and advantage that one would thinkcould make a man happy; young, noble, and beautiful; of a most amiableand generous disposition, as her subsequent conduct has proved; and ofgreat wealth.'

  'Miss Grandison?' said Lord Montfort.

  'Yes: his parents looked forward to their union with delight, notaltogether unmixed with anxiety.

  The Armines, with all their princely possessions, are greatlyembarrassed from the conduct of the last head of their house. Ferdinandhimself has, I grieve to say, inherited too much of his grandfather'simprudent spirit; his affairs, I fear, are terribly involved. When Iknew him, papa was, as you are aware, a poor man. This marriage wouldhave cured all; my Digby, I wish it to take place.'

  'How can we effect it?' asked Lord Montfort.

  'Become his friend, dear Digby. I always think you can do anything. Yes!my only trust is in you. Oh! my Digby, make us all happy.'

  Lord Montfort rose and walked up and down the room, apparently inprofound meditation. At length he said, 'Rest assured, Henrietta, thatto secure your happiness nothing shall ever be wanting on my part. Iwill see Mr. Glastonbury on this subject. At present, dearest, let usthink of lighter things.'