And did he deserve to be acquitted? Yes, upon the whole he did;--to be acquitted of that special sin. His desire to make Miss Dunstable temporarily subject to his sway arose, not from a hankering after her fortune, but from an ambition to get the better of a contest in which other men around him seemed to be failing.
For it must not be imagined that, with such a prize to be struggled for, all others stood aloof and allowed him to have his own way with the heiress, undisputed. The chance of a wife with two hundred thousand pounds is a godsend, which comes in a man's life too seldom to be neglected, let that chance be never so remote.
Frank was the heir to a large embarrassed property; and, therefore, the heads of families, putting their wisdoms together, had thought it most meet that this daughter of Plutus should, if possible, fall to his lot. But not so thought the Honourable George; and not so thought another gentleman who was at that time an inmate of Courcy Castle.
These suitors perhaps somewhat despised their young rival's efforts. It may be that they had sufficient worldly wisdom to know that so important a crisis of life is not settled among quips and jokes, and that Frank was too much in jest to be in earnest. But be that as it may, his love-****** did not stand in the way of their love-******; nor his hopes, if he had any, in the way of their hopes.
The Honourable George had discussed the matter with the Honourable John in a properly fraternal manner. It may be that John had also an eye to the heiress; but, if so, he had ceded his views to his brother's superior claims; for it came about that they understood each other very well, and John favoured George with salutary advice on the occasion.
'If it is to be done at all, it should be done very sharp,' said John.
'As sharp as you like,' said George. 'I'm not the fellow to be studying three months in what attitude I'll fall at a girl's feet.'
'No: and when you are there you mustn't take three months more to study how you'll get up again. If you do it at all, you must do it sharp,' repeated John, putting great stress on his advice.
'I have said a few soft words to her already, and she didn't seem to take them badly,' said George.
'She's no chicken, you know,' remarked John; 'and with a woman like that, beating about the bush never does any good. The chances are she won't have you--that's of course; plums like that don't fall into a man's mouth merely for shaking the tree. But it's possible she may; and if she will, she's as likely to take you to-day as this day six months. If I were you I'd write her a letter.'
'Write her a letter--eh?' said George, who did not altogether dislike the advice, for it seemed to take from his shoulders the burden of preparing a spoken address. Though he was so glib in speaking about the farmers' daughters, he felt that he should have some little difficulty in ****** known his passion to Miss Dunstable, by word of mouth.
'Yes; write a letter. If she'll take you at all, she'll take you that way; half the matches going are made up by writing letters. Write her a letter and get it put on her dressing-table.' George said that he would, and so he did.
George spoke quite truly when he hinted that he had said a few soft things to Miss Dunstable. Miss Dunstable, however, was accustomed to hear soft things. She had been carried much about in society among fashionable people since, on the settlement of her father's will, she had been pronounced heiress to all the ointment of Lebanon; and many men had made calculations respecting her similar to those which were now animating the brain of the Honourable George de Courcy. She was already quite accustomed to being a target at which spendthrifts and the needy rich might shoot their arrows: accustomed to being shot at, and tolerably accustomed to protect herself without ****** scenes in the world, or rejecting the advantageous establishments offered to her with any loud expressions of disdain. The Honourable George, therefore, had been permitted to say soft things very much as a matter of course.
And very little more outward fracas arose from the correspondence which followed than had arisen from the soft things so said. George wrote the letter, and had it duly conveyed to Miss Dunstable's bed-chamber.
Miss Dunstable duly received it, and had her answer conveyed back discreetly to George's hands. The correspondence ran as follows:--
'Courcy Castle, Aug. -, 185-.
'MY DEAREST MISS DUNSTABLE, 'I cannot but flatter myself that you must have perceived from my manner that you are not indifferent to me. Indeed, indeed, you are not. I may truly say, and swear' (these last strong words had been put in by the special counsel of the Honourable John), 'that if ever a man loved a woman truly, I truly love you. You may think it very odd that I should say this in a letter instead of speaking it out before your face; but your powers of raillery are so great' ('touch her up about her wit' had been the advice of the Honourable John) 'that I am all but afraid to encounter them. Dearest, dearest Martha--oh do not blame me for so addressing you!--if you will trust your happiness to me you shall never find that you have been deceived. My ambition shall be to make you shine in that circle which you are so well qualified to adorn and to see you firmly fixed in that sphere of fashion for which your tastes adapt you.
'I may safely assert--and I do assert it with my hand on my heart--that I am actuated by no mercenary motives. Far be it from me to marry any woman--no, not a princess--on account of her money. No marriage can be happy without mutual affection; and I do fully trust--no, not trust, but hope--that there may be such between you and me, dearest Miss Dunstable. Whatever settlements you might propose I would accede to. It is you, your sweet person, that I love, not your money.
