'You tell me so;--but I can hardly yet believe it. And then how am I to know my own feelings so suddenly? Marriage as I have found it, Mr Broune, has not been happy. I have suffered much. I have been wounded in every joint, hurt in every nerve,--tortured till I could hardly endure my punishment. At last I got my liberty, and to that I have looked for happiness.'
'Has it made you happy?'
'It has made me less wretched. And there is so much to be considered! I have a son and a daughter, Mr Broune.'
'Your daughter I can love as my own. I think I prove my devotion to you when I say that I am willing for your sake to encounter the troubles which may attend your son's future career.'
'Mr Broune, I love him better,--always shall love him better,--than anything in the world.' This was calculated to damp the lover's ardour, but he probably reflected that should he now be successful, time might probably change the feeling which had just been expressed. 'Mr Broune,' she said, 'I am now so agitated that you had better leave me. And it is very late. The servant is sitting up, and will wonder that you should remain. It is near two o'clock.'
'When may I hope for an answer?'
'You shall not be kept waiting. I will write to you, almost at once. I will write to you,--to-morrow; say the day after to-morrow, on Thursday. I feel that I ought to have been prepared with an answer; but I am so surprised that I have none ready.' He took her hand in his, and kissing it, left her without another word.
As he was about to open the front door to let himself out, a key from the other side raised the latch, and Sir Felix, returning from his club, entered his mother's house. The young man looked up into Mr Broune's face with mingled impudence and surprise. 'Halloo, old fellow,' he said, 'you've been keeping it up late here; haven't you?' He was nearly drunk, and Mr Broune, perceiving his condition, passed him without a word. Lady Carbury was still standing in the drawing-room, struck with amazement at the scene which had just passed, full of doubt as to her future conduct, when she heard her son tumbling up the stairs. It was impossible for her not to go out to him. 'Felix,' she said, 'why do you make so much noise as you come in?'
'Noish! I'm not making any noish. I think I'm very early. Your people's only just gone. I shaw shat editor fellow at the door that won't call himself Brown. He'sh great ass'h, that fellow. All right, mother. Oh, ye'sh, I'm all right.' And so he tumbled up to bed, and his mother followed him to see that the candle was at any rate placed squarely on the table, beyond the reach of the bed curtains.