Mrs. Chiverton knew from her
husband of the family project for Miss Fairfax's settlement in life, and
as she approved of Mr. Cecil Burleigh as highly as her allegiance to Mr.
Chiverton permitted her to approve of anybody but himself, she spoke at
some length in his praise, desiring to be agreeable. Bessie suffered her
to go on without check or discouragement; she must have understood the
drift of many things this evening which had puzzled her hitherto, but
she made no sign. Miss Burleigh said to her brother when they parted
for the night that she really did not know what to think or what to
advise, further than that Sir Edward Lucas ought to be "set down," or
there was no guessing how far he might be tempted to encroach. Miss
Fairfax, she considered, was too universally inclined to please.
Mr. Cecil Burleigh had no clear resolve of what he would do when he went
to walk in the garden the next morning. He knew what he wanted. A sort
of paradoxical exhilaration possessed him. He remembered his dear Julia
with tender, weary regret, and gave his fancy license to dwell on the
winsomeness of Bessie. And while it was so dwelling he heard her tuneful
tongue as she came with Miss Burleigh over the grass, still white with
hoar-frost where the sun had not fallen. He advanced to meet them.
"Oh, Cecil, here you are! Mr. Fairfax has been inquiring for you, but
there is no hurry," said his sister, and she was gone.
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