Between ten and eleven of the clock next morning, Molly's suitor—I cannot call him her lover—arrived at the house. At that hour most of the ladies are at morning prayers, and the gentlemen are either at the tavern taking their morning whet, or at the coffee house in conversation, or engaged in some of the sports to which most of them are so much addicted. Lord Fylingdale, although the streets at such an hour are mostly deserted, had to cross the market-place on his way to the captain's house, in Hogman's Lane, and was, therefore, carried in a chair with the curtains drawn, so as to avoid recognition.

He was received by Captain Crowle in the parlour. For the occasion the old man had put on his Sunday suit, with white silk stockings; and he wore his sword, to which, as the former commander of a ship, he was entitled.

"I am come, captain, to receive in person your answer to the message conveyed to you yesterday by my ambassador. I hope that the message was delivered faithfully, and with due respect."

"I believe, my lord, with both."

"I assure you, Captain Crowle, that the respect I have conceived for your character and loyalty is more than I can express in words. That you have inspired, in the mind of your ward, similar virtues I do not doubt, and this confidence, believe me, has much to do with the offer of my hand to that young lady."

"Your lordship does me the greatest honour. My answer is that I accept in Molly's name, and joyfully."

"I am delighted. This should be," he added, coldly, "the happiest day of my life."

"When we spread the news abroad, everybody in Lynn will feel that the greatest honour has been done to the town as well as to this house."

"Sir, you overrate my position. Still … however, we must keep the matter secret for a day or two yet. I engage you, captain, to profound secrecy."

"As long as you please, my lord. The sooner I may speak of it the better I shall like it, for I am bursting with joy and satisfaction."

"Patience, captain, for a day or two."

The captain became serious, even melancholy. "You will take her away, I suppose."

"I fear I must. A married man generally takes away his wife, does he not?"

"You will take her to your country house, and to London. Well, I am old—I am seventy-five already. I cannot expect ever to see her again. Her mother, however, is not so old by thirty years. Perhaps your lordship will at some time or other—we would not remind you of your lady's humble folk—allow her if she is within an easy journey to come here to see her mother."

"Surely—surely, captain. Could I be so hard-hearted as to refuse? Her mother certainly—or yourself. But not her old friends. Not the friends of her childhood such as that young sailor man—nor the girls of the place."

"I care not for them, so that I may comfort her poor mother with that promise. As for myself, who am I that I should intrude upon her? Let me die happy in the knowledge that she is happy."

"She shall be as happy as the day is long, captain."

"I doubt it not. As for Jack Pentecrosse, an old playfellow, he is like me. He loves her as if she was his sister, but he desires nothing but the knowledge of the girl's happiness."

"I accept your assurance, captain, that he will not endeavour to seek her or to visit her."

"He will not. My lord," the captain became very serious, "I can promise you a well-conditioned, virtuous, modest, obedient, and dutiful wife. She will ask for nothing but a continuance of your lordship's affection and consideration, in return for which she will be your willing servant as well as your wife."

"Again, captain, I doubt it not. Else I should not be here."

"And when the day comes—when you pass the word, my lord—the bells shall ring and the music shall play and all the town shall make holiday, and we will have such a feast and merrymaking that all the country round shall ring with it. Lord, I am so happy!"

"But, captain, I have not yet received the consent of the lady."

"Be assured that you will have it. But the girl is shy and hesitates, being, to say the truth, dazzled by the rank to which she is to be raised. A young maid's modesty will perhaps hinder such freedom of speech as you would naturally desire."

"I hope, sir, that I am able to appreciate and value the virtue of modesty. All I ask of the young lady is her consent."

"Of that you may be assured beforehand."

"Then, captain, as this is an occasion of some awkwardness and one which it is well to get through as quickly as possible——" Did one ever hear of such a lover? "Well, to get through as quickly as possible," his first interview with his mistress. "You will perhaps bring Miss Molly to me or take me to her."

Molly, meanwhile, was in her bedroom, in a strange agitation, her colour coming and going; now pale, now blushing; for the first time in her life, trembling and inclined to swoon. Even for a girl who loves a man it is an event of the greatest importance, and one never to be forgotten, when she consents to make him happy. But when she is in grievous doubt, torn by the consciousness that she does not love the man; that she is afraid of him; that she does not desire the change of rank which he offers; and that she would far rather remain among her own people. In such a case, I say, her trouble is great indeed. However, to do honour to the occasion, she, like the captain, had assumed her Sunday attire. Her frock, to be sure, was not so fine as that in which she graced the assembly, but it was passable. To my mind she looked more beautiful than in that splendid dress.

At her guardian's summons, she slowly descended the stairs. The kitchen door was open; she looked in as she passed. Her mother, instead of being busy over her housewifery was sitting in her chair, her hands clasped, her eyes closed, her lips moving. She was praying for her daughter. Molly stepped in and kissed her. "Mother," she said, "pray that it may turn out well. I must accept him. Yet I doubt. Oh, pray for me!"

"Because," her mother murmured in reply, "the captain cannot help, and Jack cannot help; and there is none other that helpeth us but only Thou, O God!"

Then Molly turned the handle of the parlour door and entered.

"Miss Molly!" her gallant lover, splendid with his star and his fine clothes, took her hand, bowed low, and kissed her fingers.

"You would speak with me, my lord."

"Yesterday I sent a message to your guardian. I told him by my messenger that I was entirely overcome by the beauty and the charms and the virtues of his fair ward. And I offered, unworthy as I am, my hand and all that goes with it—my rank, and title, my possessions and myself."

"The captain told me of the message."

"I have to-day received an answer from him. But although he is your guardian I would not presume to consider that answer as final. I must have your answer as well."

"My lord, I am but a humble and a homely person."

"Nay, but lovely as Venus herself."

"I know now, since all the company have come to Lynn, how homely and humble I am in the eyes of gentlefolk."

"You will no longer be either homely or humble—when you are a countess."

"I fear that your friends among the great will make your lordship ashamed of your choice."

"My friends know me better than to suppose that I can be ashamed by their opinion. But, indeed, they have only to see you for that opinion to be changed. Once seen by the world and all will envy and congratulate the happy possessor of so much beauty."

"Then, are you satisfied that you are truly in love with me?"

"Satisfied?" He took her hand again and kissed it. "How shall I satisfy you on this point? By what assurance? By what lover's vows?"

She glanced upwards, having spoken so far with hanging head. Her eyes met his. Alas! they were cold and hard. There was no softening influence of love visible in those eyes; only resolution and purpose. His eyes were as cold as his forehead and as hard as his lips. Poor Molly! Poor countess!

"Is it not, my lord," she asked, "a mere passing fancy? You will be tired of me in a month; you will regret that you did not choose rather among the fine ladies who speak your language and follow your manners."

"Molly, I am a man who does not encourage idle fancies and passing loves. You will find no change in me. As I am now so I shall be always."

She shivered. The prospect made her feel cold.

"Then, my lord," she said, "I have nothing more to say. I shall not do justice to your rank, nor shall I bring to your house the dignity which you deserve. Such as I am, take me, if you will, or let me go, if you will."

"Can you doubt, Molly? I will take you." He hesitated; he took her hand again; he stooped and kissed her forehead. There was no passion in his kiss; no tenderness in his touch; no emotion in his voice. Such as he was then such he would always be. And though the door was closed, Molly seemed to hear again the voice of her mother murmuring "but only Thou, O God!"

Her lover drew the captain's armchair and placed it at the open window which looked out into the garden, then filled with flowers, fragrant and beautiful, and melodious with the humming of many bees.

"Sit down, Molly, and let us talk."

He did not sit down. He stood before her; he walked about the room; he played with the gold tassels of his sword.

"Molly, since we are to be married, we must be married at once."

"I am your lordship's servant."

"As soon as possible. Are you ready?"

"Ready? I suppose I could be ready in a month or six weeks."

"Why, what is there to do?"

"I have to get things—dresses, house linen, all kinds of things."

"My dear, you are not going to marry a cit. Everything that you want you can buy. There are plenty of shops. You want nothing but what you have—your wardrobe, your fine things, and your common things, and your jewels. You must not forget your jewels."

"I thought that brides were always provided with things for the house. But if your lordship has already the linen and the napery——"

"Good Lord! How should I know what I have? The thing is that you will need nothing."

"Where will you take me?"

"I think, first of all, to my house in Gloucestershire. It is not fully furnished; the late possessor, my cousin, whom I succeeded, was, unfortunately, a gambler. He had to cut down his woods and to sell them; he even had to sell his furniture and pictures. But I can soon put the house in order fit for your reception." It was he himself, and not his predecessor, who had sold these things. "If it is not so fine, at first, as you would wish, we can soon make it worthy of you."

I have often wondered what he intended to do with his bride if things had gone differently. I am now certain that he intended to take her to this great country house, which, as I have understood, stands in a secluded part of the country, with no near neighbours and no town within reach; and that he intended to leave her there, while he himself went up to London to resume the old gaming and raking, which he desired so much, although they had been his ruin. Fate, however, prevented this design.

"If you desire my happiness, my lord——"

"What else is there in the whole world that I should desire?"

"You will take me to that country place and live there. I fear the world of fashion and I have no wish to live in London. I have learned from the Lady Anastasia how the great ladies pass their time."

"Everything shall be as you wish, Molly. Everything, believe me."

He then, by way of illustrating this assurance, proposed a thing which he himself wished.

"We must be married immediately, Molly, because I am called away, by affairs of importance, to Gloucestershire. I ought to leave this place not later than Saturday." The day was Thursday.

"Saturday? We must be married on Saturday?"

"Sooner than Saturday. To-morrow. That will give us time enough to make what little preparations may be necessary."

"To-morrow? But we cannot be married so soon."

"Everything is prepared. I have the license. We can be married to-morrow."

"Oh!" It was all she could say.

"There is another thing. Your guardian would like to make a public ceremony of the wedding; he would hang the town with flags, and ring the bells, and summon the band of the marrowbones and cleavers, while all the world looked on."

"Yes. He is so proud of the marriage that he would like to celebrate it."

"And you, Molly?"

"I should like to be married with no one to look on, and no one to know anything about it until it was over."

"Why—there, Molly—there, we are agreed. I was in great fear that you would not think with me. My dear, if there is one thing which I abhor, it is the public ceremony and the private feasting and merriment with which a wedding is accompanied. We do not want the town to be all agog; we do not want to set all tongues wagging; nor do we want to be a show with a grand triumphal march and a feast to last three days afterwards."

"Can we be private, then?"

"Certainly. I can arrange everything. Now, Molly, my plan is this. We will be married privately in St. Nicholas Church at six in the morning, before the company are out of their beds. No one will see us; after the marriage you will come back here; I will return with you, and we will then inform the captain and your mother of the joyful news. Believe me, when they come to think it over, they will rejoice to be spared the trouble and the preparation for a wedding feast."

"But I cannot deceive the captain."

"There is no deception. He has agreed to the match. He knows that you have agreed. There is one consideration, Molly, which makes a private marriage necessary. I could not consent to a public wedding or to a wedding feast, because my rank forbids. It would be impossible for me to invite any person of my own position to such a feast, and it would be impossible for me to sit down with those persons—worthy, no doubt, and honest—whom the captain would certainly wish to invite."

This was certainly reasonable, and certainly true. Rank must be respected, and a noble earl cannot sit down to feast with merchants, skippers, mates, parsons and the like.

"Then it shall be as your lordship pleases."

"Be at the church at six," he said. "I will provide everything and see that everything is ready for you. Do not be recognised as you pass along the street. You can wear a domino with the pink silk cloak which you wore the other night at the assembly. Then I shall recognise you. No one else, Molly, need be considered. Are you sure that you understand?"

"Yes," she sighed. "I understand."

"Then, Molly," he bowed low, and, without offering to kiss her, this wonderful lover left his mistress and was carried home in his chair.