The heads on each side had spoken again, and in
almost royal fashion had laid the lines for an alliance between their
houses. When Mr. Cecil Burleigh took Caen in his road to Paris, it was
with the distinct understanding that if Elizabeth Fairfax pleased him
and he succeeded in pleasing her, a marriage between them would crown
the hopes of both their families.
The gentleman had not taken long to decide that the lady would do. And
now they were on the Foam together he had opportunities enough of
wooing. He availed himself of a courtly grace of manner, with sometimes
an air of worship, which would have been tenderness had he felt like a
lover. Bessie was puzzled, and grew more and more ill at ease with him.
Absorbed in work, in thought, or in idle reverie and smoke, he appeared
natural and happy; he turned his attention to her, and was gay,
gracious, flattering, but all with an effort. She wished he would not
give himself the trouble. She hated to be made to blush and stammer in
her talk; it confused her to have him look superbly in her eyes; it made
her angry to have him press her hand as if he would reassure her against
a doubt.
Fortunately, the time was not long, for they began to bore one another
immensely. It was an exquisite morning when they anchored opposite Ryde,
and the first day of the annual regatta. At breakfast Mr. Cecil Burleigh
quietly announced that he would now leave the yacht, and make his way
home in a few days by the ordinary conveyances.
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