e with this invitation
would be taken as implying that all was right. It would be so easy to
accept the invitation, and any other answer was so difficult! But yet he
would not bring himself to tell the lie.
"Burton," he said, "I am in trouble."
"What is the trouble?" The man's voice was now changed, and so was the
glance of his eye. There was no expression of anger--none as yet; but
the sweetness of his countenance was gone--a sweetness that was unusual
to him, but which still was at his command when he needed it.
"I cannot tell you all here. If you will let me come to you this evening
I will tell you everything--you and to Cecilia too. Will you let me
come?"
"Certainly. Will you dine with us?"
"No; after dinner; when the children are in bed." Then he went, leaving
on the mind of Theodore Burton an impression that though something was
much amiss, his mother had been wrong in her fears respecting Lady
Ongar.
Chapter XXXI
Freshwater Gate
Count Pateroff, Sophie's brother, was a man who, when he had taken a
thing in hand, generally liked to carry it through. It may perhaps be
said that most men are of this turn of mind; but the count was, I think,
especially eager in this respect. And as he was not one who had many
irons in the fire, who made either many little efforts, or any great
efforts after things altogether beyond his reach, he was justified in
expecting success. As to Archie's courtship, any one who really knew the
man and the woman, and who knew anything of the nature of women in
general, would have predicted failure for him. Even with Doodle's aid he
could not have a chance in the race. But when Count Pateroff entered
himself for the same prize, those who knew him would not speak of his
failure as a thing certain.
The prize was too great not to be attempted by so very prudent a
gentleman. He was less impulsive in his nature than his sister, and did
not open his eyes and talk with watering mouth of the seven thousands of
pounds a year; but in his quiet way he had weighed and calculated all
the advantages to be gained, had even ascertained at what rate he could
insure the lady's life, and had made himself certain that nothing in the
deed of Lord Ongar's marriage-settlement entailed any pecuniary penalty
on his widow's second marriage. Then he had gone down, as we know, to
Ongar Park, and as he had walked from the lodge to the house and back
again, he had looked around him complacently,
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