Page:The New Monthly Magazine - Volume 097.djvu/431

Rh with that presuming fool, Ailsa. And as I don't mean to stand this nonsense about him any longer, I shall acquaint Mr. Bell that you and he have been writing love-letters to each other."

"Oh, for Heaven's sake, say nothing to my father!" cried Emily, well-nigh startled out of her senses.

"I am glad you have the grace not to deny it," interrupted Hardwick, sullenly.

"Yes, yes, yes," exclaimed the agitated girl, striving to repair the unlucky admission she had made, "I do deny it."

"Emily, I will not be trifled with, so you may spare yourself the attempt. You shall either promise to be mine, and keep to it, or I will give you up at once."

This was the nearest approach to an offer Emily had ever received from Mr. Tom Hardwick, and she felt somewhat overpowered with bewildering sensations. On the one hand was James Ailsa, with his steadfast love, that she knew would shield her from every harm in life; on the other was the tempting prospect of becoming a daughter-in-law of the lofty old squire; and this last was irresistible to her aspiring heart.

"It shall be one of us, not both," resumed Hardwick, who was in an ill humour, and a very resolute one. "And I here swear, that if you ever again attempt to speak to that beggar Ailsa, I will take no further notice of you whatever: if we meet in the street, I'll pass you; should you call at my father's house, I will go out of it whilst you are there."

"Oh, Tom, why do you put yourself in this passion. I declare to you that I hate Jim Ailsa."

"Then you will deliver his letters up to Mr. Bell."

"For the love of goodness, don't mention the subject to papa," she implored; "he is so strict with us. He has written me one or two nonsensical letters, I won't deny it. I will give them up to you, Tom, if you will not tell papa. But you won't read them?"

"Not I. I'll make them into a packet, and dash it in Ailsa's face."

"Don't talk so wildly, Tom: you know Ailsa is no coward. If you want to get up a quarrel, I will have nothing more to say to you, any more than to him: and I will keep the letters."

"Well, well, Emily, I'll promise you to let the beggar alone; and he shall know nothing about the letters. I will come for them to-morrow morrow, mind."

"Very well," said Emily, deep in thought.

"There's my darling girl," he added, stooping to salute her; "and when I can afford to marry, you shall be my wife."

Emily made no reply to this exceedingly gracious promise. She was thinking what excuse she could make about the letters, for as to giving them up to him, that, she was determined never to do. "Who in the world can have told him that we correspond?" she soliloquised. "If it should come to be known in Ebury, I think I shall go mad—everybody so despises Ailsa. If Tom Hardwick had sent me a lot of love-letters now, I should not care who knew it: they might take and publish them in the newspapers if they liked."

With the morning, arrived Mr. Tom Hardwick, according to his promise. Emily met him in the garden, as if accidentally.