Through what enchanted ground we passed in that short distance, how
can I ever hope to tell! It was all like a story of fairyland, with
Helena for Queen of Unreality. But it was real enough. Ah! my dear,
you knew your own mind, as I, after years and years of wedded
happiness, can testify.
Next day, Mr. Craven started off to the west of England. He did not tell
me where he was going; indeed, I never knew he had been to see my uncle
until long afterwards.
What he told that gentleman, what he said of me and Helena, of my poor
talents and her beauty, may be gathered from the fact that the old
admiral agreed first to buy me a partnership in some established firm,
and then swore a mighty oath, that if the heiress was, at the end of
twelve months, willing to marry his nephew, he would make him his heir.
"I should like to have you with me, Patterson," said Mr. Craven, when we
were discussing my uncle's proposal, which a few weeks after took me
greatly by surprise; "but, if you remain here, Miss Blake will always
regard you as a clerk. I know of a good opening; trust me to arrange
everything satisfactorily for you."
Whether Miss Blake, even with my altered fortunes, would ever have
become reconciled to the match, is extremely doubtful, had the _beau
monde_ not turned a very decided cold-shoulder to the Irish patriot.
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