The Old Countess; or, The Two Proposals Part 44

"Have you, then, ceased to love me, Caroline?"

Her pale face flushed, her eyes kindled.

"Is this a question to ask me?"

"Yes--because I have never ceased to love you, and never shall."

"Not when you are certain that I am the daughter of--of--an actress?"

"Not if you were the daughter of fifty actresses, Caroline! I have been searching for you, in London, everywhere. More than once I inquired at Olympia's door."

"You!"

"Indeed I did; but she would give me no information."

"She could not. I left no word."

"And now that I have found you, Caroline?"

"My name is Brown, Lord Hilton. I am, in truth, the daughter of that good man whom you supposed my father."

"And of Olympia?"

"Yes, they were married and--and divorced before she became celebrated and took the name of Olympia."

Caroline said all this with a feeling of self-torture that took all the color from her face. The love of Lord Hilton seemed an impossibility to her, and she gave him the hard truth, under which her heart was writhing, without a reservation of pride or delicacy.

"It is of very little consequence whose daughter you are," said the young man, tenderly, "so long as I love you, and am, with G.o.d's blessing, resolved to make you my wife."

"Resolved to make me your wife!"

The words came one by one from her lips, in measured sadness. She knew the thing to be impossible, and uttered the words as if she had buried some beloved object, and was mourning over it.

"I repeat it, Caroline. There is no change in my love--no change in my determination. All that I felt for you in our sweet Italian life lives with me yet."

Caroline turned her eyes full upon him. An expression of pain broke through their mournfulness.

"It was impossible!"

That was all she said; but he knew how much agony the words had cost by the whiteness of her lips.

"But why," he pleaded, "if we love each other, for you love me yet?"

"Yes, I love you!"

Hilton threw his arms around her, and kissed her cold face in a transport of thankfulness.

"Then, why not? We were betrothed in Italy, when I believed you Mr.

Brown's daughter, as I do now."

"But I did not know that you were an English n.o.bleman, and heir to a large estate."

"Is that a crime, Caroline? Besides, you need not trouble yourself about the estate. When I ask you in marriage, that is given up."

She turned to him suddenly, and held out her hands.

"Are you, indeed, ready to give up so much for me?"

"I am ready to give up everything but my honor," was his reply.

"I am only a poor girl, with no honor to hold but my own; but you shall not find me less generous than you are."

He kissed her hands in pa.s.sionate grat.i.tude.

"Ah, darling, I knew--I knew that it must end so."

She forced her hands from his clasp.

"You misunderstand me. I love you better than myself! better than my life! Do believe it! And for that reason we part, now and forever! I could not live through another hour like this!"

"Caroline!"

"I know it is hard; my own heart is pleading against it. But there is something which forbids me to listen."

"Caroline, I will not permit this! It is unnatural, cruel!"

"I know it! I know it! Still it is our destiny. Nothing that has been said, or can be said, will change the fact of your birth and mine. Do not, I implore you, press this matter farther. It is hard to fight against my own heart and you. Spare me and let me go!"

Caroline arose and absolutely fled from the man she loved. He did not attempt to detain her, but walked away slowly, half offended--but more resolved on making her his wife than ever.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

OUT AMONG THE TREES.

Not far from the glen, loitering up and down a secluded forest-path, Caroline met Lady Clara, and, by her side, the young man whom she had met that night at Olympia's supper party. This took her by surprise, and she turned into another path, where a sheltered garden seat invited her to rest.

Lady Clara had not seen her companion, and was too much occupied for any thought regarding her. She was talking earnestly to Hepworth Closs, who had refused Lady Ca.r.s.et's invitation to take up his quarters at the castle, but was staying at the public house down in the village, until after the festival, at which Clara still refused to be introduced as sole heiress of the broad domain on which they stood.

"Let us be patient," she said. "I cannot distress this kind old lady while she is so disturbed and so feeble. Let things take their course till she is strong enough to endure this additional agitation. She was greatly pleased with you that morning when you called. By degrees she will learn to like you; and when she finds that Lord Hilton has no idea of joining the estates by a marriage with her heiress--a thing which I know she has at heart, but she has, as yet, only given me warning by most delicate insinuations--your proposal will not disturb her so much."

Hepworth Closs had learned the great lessons of patience, and loved the young girl by his side too sincerely for any protest against what was, in fact, a necessary delay; so he answered her kindly;

"So long as we are not entirely separated, Clara, I can bear anything, even your father's hostility, which, after all, is but natural."

"But that, too, will be swept away by grandmamma's consent; and I am sure she loves me so much that, with patience, that may be obtained.