ke, "as if it
had come from my father's own lips. However, what you say is very
true: the poor unfortunate girl little knows what the slave merchants
are devising for her. My father has dealt with hers, and her father
has dealt with mine, and settled all affairs between them, it seems,
without our knowledge or participation in any shape. I was the first
of the two parties concerned who received the word of command to march
and be married, and as yet the unfortunate victim is unacquainted
with the designs against her peace and happiness for life."
"Nay, nay," replied Wilton, almost sorrowfully, "speak not so lightly
of it. What have you done, Sherbrooke? for Heaven's sake, what have
you done? If you have consented to marry, let me hope and trust that
you have determined firmly to change your conduct, and not indeed, as
you say, to ruin the poor girl's peace and happiness for life."
"Oh! I have consented," replied Lord Sherbrooke, in the same gay
laughing tone; "you do not suppose that I would refuse beauty, and
sweetness, and twenty thousand a year. I am not as mad as my father.
Oh! I consented directly. I understand, she is the great beauty of
the day. She will see very little of me, and I shall see very little
of her, so we shall not weary of one another. Oh! I am a very wise
man, indeed. I only wanted what our friend Launcelot calls 'a trifle
of wives' to be King Solomon himself. Why you know that for the other
cattle which distinguished that great monarch I am pretty well
provided."
Wilton looked down upon the ground with a look of very great pain,
while imagination pictured what the future life of some young and
innocent girl might be, bound to one so wild, so heedless, and
dissolute as Lord Sherbrooke. He remained silent, however, for he did
not dare to trust himself with any farther observations; and when he
looked up again, he found his friend gazing at him with an expression
on his countenance in some degree sorrowful, in some degree
reproachful, but with a look of playful meaning flickering through the
whole.
"Now does your solemnity, and your gravity," said Lord Sherbrooke,
"and your not yet understanding me, almost tempt me, Wilton, to play
some wild and inconceivable trick, just for the purpose of opening
your eyes, and letting you see, that your friend is not such an
unfeeling rascal as the world gives out."
"I know you are not, my dear Sherbrooke--I am sure you are not,"
replied Wilton, grasping warmly the hand which Lord Sherbrooke hel