Ayala's Angel

ing with muddy water, was nevertheless a young man with so much manly truth about him as to be very much in love. He did not look like it; but then perhaps the young men who do fall m

wn rather, but over which the tell-tale blood would rush with a quickness which was marvellous to him, the lithe quick figure which had in it nothing of the weight of earth, the little foot which in itself was a perfect joy, the step with all the elasticity of a fawn — these charms together had mastered him. Tom was not romantic or poetic, but the romance and poetry of Ayala had been divine to him. It is not always l

thness. In London he was apt to run a little towards ornamental gilding, but in London his tastes had been tempered by the ill-natured criticism of the world at large. He had hardly dared at Queen’s Gate to wear his biggest pins; but he had taken upon himself to think that at Rome an Englishman might expose himself with all his jewelry. “Oh, Tom, I never saw anything

Emmeline had almost taken her niece’s part, feeling that she might, best bring things back to a condition of peace in this manner. Ayala, she had thought, might thus be decoyed into a state of submissio

.” Then Ayala had flashed forth, and the little attempt led to a worse condition than ever

should it please her to remove herself. Ayala had thought of this for a moment, and then had burst into tears. “If I could not live I c

made to feel that the poor orphan was the one person most worthy of note among them, to be subjected to the caprices of a pretty, proud, ill-conditioned minx — thus it was that Aunt Emmeline was taught to regard her own charity and good-nature towards her niece. There was, she said, no gratitude in Ayala. Had she said tha

ok Ayala’s part at once. “I think you are quite right,“he said to her, on the first

about

ways like that when she was a child, and

r her lover if she wou

pose she hur

e, and that makes me unhapp

, don’t be

one word of sympathy from her cousin, she forgot for a moment his disagreeable pretensions. But, no sooner had she spoken of her lonel

ys take your

nt any taki

ou are more to me, Ayala, than any of them.” Then h

e had come to be a direct quarrel between Lady Tringle and the Marchesa, which, however, had arisen altogether on the part of Augusta. Augusta had forced her mother to declare that she was insulted, and then there was no more visiting between them. This had been sad enough for Ayala, who had struck up an intimacy with the Marchesa’s daughters. Bu

nk Houston was a young man of family, with a taste for art, very good-looking, but not specially well off in regard to income. He had heard of the good fortune of Septimus Traffick in having prepared for himself a connection with so wealthy a family as the Tringles, and had thought it possible that a settlement in life might be comfortable for himself. What few softwords he had

id, all this m

ust be

w, Ayala, how mu

I don’t want to be anything

on you. They treat you as — as — well, as thou

ve. I have no

ay I want it to be. I

pray d

I to speak as I think? Oh, Ayala,

n’t. You haven’

got a

om him. She was afraid of him, lest he should put out his hand to take hold of her — lest something even more might be attempted. And yet his manner was manly and sincere, and had it not been for his pins and his chains she cou

tell you that I love you bett

N

eve me? O

hing. I want to get out. If y

ar at the office in Lombard Street. He was quite determined to please himself in marriage, and was disposed to think that his father and mother would like him to be settled. Money was no object. There was, to his thinking, no good reason why he should no

ertrude and Mr Houston, a

ce word to

e word. Can’t you be made to u

ya

you let m

quickly, while he followed her, joined herself to the other pair of lovers, who probably were less in want of her socie

iar danger of her own position. Her aunt must be made to understand that she, Ayala, was innocent in the matter. It would be terrible to her to be suspected even for a moment of a desire to inveigle the heir. That Augusta would bring such an accusation agai

rite a letter to her cousin and persuade him if possible to desist. If he should again annoy her

R T

turning against me to talk as you did. Of course it means nothing; but you shouldn’t do it. It never never could mean anything. I hope you will

ectionat

Y

by the assertion that he had “meant nothing”. But he was so assured in his own meanings that he paid no attention whatever to the nevers. The letter wa

ST AY

eaking to a lady than I am with you. Why should I not be in earnest when I am so deeply in love?

m not the sort of man to be talked out of my intentions in such a matter as

think you so beautiful! I do, indeed. The governor has always said that if I would settle down and marry there

eaning it, Most

TRI

out of the water. There was the heavy face, and there were the big chains and the odious rings, and the great hands and the clumsy feet — making together

cousin, she might have prevailed. If he could only be made to understand that it could never mean anything! But now, on the other hand, she had begun to understand that it did mean

ove him! Marry him! or even touch him? Oh, no. They might ill-use her; they might scold her,; they mig

solute offer of marriage he was entitled to a discreet and civil answer. Romantic, dreamy, poetic, childish as she was, she knew as much as that. “Go away, Tom, you fool, you,” would no longer do for the occasion. As she thought of it all that night it