Chapter 43 - Page 2

ask of you."

The general, satisfied with the effect he had produced, carelessly arose
from his seat, and joined Lady Margaret in her drawing-room.

George remained for several minutes musing on his father's singular
request, as well as the admiral's caution, when he sprang from his seat,
caught up his hat and sword, and in ten minutes rang at Sir Peter's door
in Grosvenor Square. He was admitted, and ascending to the drawing-room,
he met the admiral on his way out. Nothing was further from the thoughts
of the veteran than a finesse like the general's; and, delighted to see
George on the battle-ground, he pointed significantly over his shoulder
towards the door of the room Isabel was in, and exclaimed, with a
good-natured smile,

"There she is, my hearty; lay her aside, and hang me if she don't strike.
I say, George, faint heart never won fair lady: remember that, my boy; no,
nor a French ship."

George would have been at some loss to have reconciled this speech to his
father's caution, if time had been allowed him to think at all; but the
door being open he entered, and found Isabel endeavoring to hide her
tears.

The admiral, dissatisfied from the beginning with the tardy method of
despatching things, thought he might be of use in breaking the ice for
George, by trumpeting his praises on divers occasions to his daughter.
Under all circumstances, he thought she might be learning to love the man,
as he was to be her husband; and speeches like the following had been
frequent of late from the parent to the child:

"There's that youngster, George Denbigh: now, Bell, is he not a fine
looking lad? Then I know he is brave. His father before him, was good
stuff and a true Englishman. What a proper husband he would make for a
young woman, he loves his king and country so; none of your new-fangled
notions about religion and government, but a sober, religious churchman;
that is, as much so, girl, as you can expect in the guards. No Methodist,
to be sure;--it's a great pity he wasn't sent to sea, don't you think so?
But cheer up, girl, one of these days he may be taking a liking to you
yet."

Isabel, whose fears taught her the meaning of these eloquent praises of
Captain Denbigh, listened to these harangues in silence, and often
meditated on their import by herself in tears.

George approached the sofa on which the lady was seated before she had
time to conceal the traces of her sorrow, and in a voice softened by
emotion, he took her hand gently as he said,--

"What can have occasioned this distress to Miss Howell. If anything in my
power to remove, or which a life devoted to her service can mitigate, she
has only to command me to find a cheerful