“Will you come on into the other room?” said Crosbie.
“I think we are very well here,” Alexandrina replied.
“But I wish to speak to you,—particularly,” said he.
“And cannot you speak here?”
“No. They will be passing backwards and forwards.” Lady Alexandrina said nothing further, but led the way into the other large room. That also was lighted, and there were in it four or live persons. Lady Rosina was reading a work on the Millennium, with a light to herself in one corner. Her brother John was asleep in an arm-chair, and a young gentleman and lady were playing chess. There was, however, ample room for Crosbie and Alexandrina to take up a position apart.
“And now, Mr Crosbie, what have you got to say to me? But, first, I mean to repeat Lady Julia’s question, as I told you that I should do.—When did you hear last from Miss Dale?”
“It is cruel in you to ask me such a question, after what I have already told you. You know that I have given to Miss Dale a promise of marriage.”
“Very well, sir. I don’t see why you should bring me in here to tell me anything that is so publicly known as that. With such a herald as Lady Julia it was quite unnecessary.”
“If you can only answer me in that tone I will make an end of it at once. When I told you of my engagement, I told you also that another woman possessed my heart. Am I wrong to suppose that you knew to whom I alluded?”
“Indeed, I did not, Mr Crosbie. I am no conjuror, and I have not scrutinised you so closely as your friend Lady Julia.”
“It is you that I love. I am sure I need hardly say so now.”
“Hardly, indeed,—considering that you are engaged to Miss Dale.”
“As to that I have, of course, to own that I have behaved foolishly;—worse than foolishly, if you choose to say so. You cannot condemn me more absolutely than I condemn myself. But I have made up my mind as to one thing. I will not marry where I do not love.” Oh, if Lily could have heard him as he then spoke! “It would be impossible for me to speak in terms too high of Miss Dale; but I am quite sure that I could not make her happy as her husband.”
“Why did you not think of that before you asked her?” said Alexandrina. But there was very little of condemnation in her tone.
“I ought to have done so; but it is hardly for you to blame me with severity. Had you, when we were last together in London—had you been less—”
“Less what?”
“Less defiant,” said Crosbie, “all this might perhaps have been avoided.”
Lady Alexandrina could not remember that she had been defiant; but, however, she let that pass. “Oh, yes; of course it was my fault.”
“I went down there to Allington with my heart ill at ease, and now I have fallen into this trouble. I tell you all as it has happened. It is impossible that I should marry Miss Dale. It would be wicked in me to do so, seeing that my heart belongs altogether to another. I have told you who is that other; and now may I hope for an answer?”