that night the two carnegies slept very little. they were both in love, very seriously in love; and anybody who has ever been in the same condition must have noticed that the symptoms, which may have been very moderate or undecided during the course of the evening, become rapidly more pronounced and violent as you lie awake in the solitude of your chamber through the night watches. but more than that, they had both begun to feel simultaneously the stab of jealousy. each of them had been very much taken indeed by isabel walters; still, if they had seen no chance of a rival looming in the distance, they might have been content to wait a little, to see a little more of her, to make quite sure of their own affection before plunging headlong into a declaration.[pg 143] after all, it's very absurd to ask a girl to be your companion for life on the strength of an acquaintanceship which has extended over the time occupied by three dances in a single evening. but then, thought each, there was the chance of ernest's proposing to her, or of harold's proposing to her, before i do. that idea made precipitancy positively imperative; and by the next morning each of the young men had fully made up his mind to take the first opportunity of asking isabella walters to be his wife.
breakfast passed off very silently, neither of the twins speaking much to one another; but nobody noticed their reticence much; for the morning after the occasional orgy or dance is apt to prove a very limp affair indeed in professional homes, where dances are not of nightly occurrence. after breakfast, harold went off quickly to the office, and ernest, having bespoken a holiday at the hospital, joined his sister and nellie holt in the library.
"do you know, ernest," edie said to him, mindful of her last night's conversation with her other brother, "i really believe harold has fallen desperately in love at first sight with that tall miss walters."
"i can easily believe it," ernest answered testily; "she's very handsome and very clever."
edie raised her eyebrows a little. "but it's awfully foolish, ernest, to fall in love blindfold in that way, isn't it now?" she said, with a searching look at her brother. "he can't possibly know what sort of a girl she really is from half an hour's conversation in a ballroom."
"for my part, i don't at all agree with you, edie," said ernest, in his coldest manner. "i don't believe there's any right way of falling in love except at first sight. if a girl is going to please you, she ought to please you instantaneously and instinctively; at least, so i think. it isn't a thing to be thought about and reasoned about, but a thing to be felt and apprehended intuitively. i couldn't[pg 144] reason myself into marrying a girl, and what's more, i don't want to."
he sat down to the table, took out a sheet or two of initialed notepaper, and began writing a couple of letters. one of them, which he marked "private" in the corner, ran as follows:—
"my dear miss walters,
"perhaps you will think it very odd of me to venture upon writing to you on the strength of such a very brief and casual acquaintance as that begun last night; but i have a particular reason for doing so, which i think i can justify to you when i see you. you mentioned to me that you were asked to the montagus' steam-launch expedition up the river from surbiton to-morrow; but i understood you to say you did not intend to accept the invitation. i write now to beg of you to be there, as i am going, and i am particularly anxious to meet you and have a little conversation with you on a subject of importance. i know you are not a very conventional person, and therefore i think you will excuse me for asking this favour of you. please don't take the trouble to write in reply; but answer by going to the montagus', and i shall then be able to explain this very queer letter. in haste,
"yours very truly,
"ernest carnegie."
he read this note two or three times over to himself, looking not very well satisfied with its contents; and then at last, with the air of a man who determines to plunge and stake all upon a single venture, he folded it up and put it in its envelope. "it'll mystify her a little, no doubt," he thought to himself; "and being a woman, she'll be naturally anxious to unravel the mystery. but of course she'll know i mean to make her an offer, and[pg 145] perhaps she'll think me a perfect idiot for not doing it outright, instead of beating about the bush in this incomprehensible fashion. however, it's too cold-blooded, proposing to a girl on paper; i very much prefer the viva voce system. it's only till to-morrow; and i doubt if harold will manage to be beforehand with me in that time. he'll be deep in business all morning, and have no leisure to think about her. anyhow, all's fair in love and war; he said it should be war; and i'll try to steal a march upon him, for all his lawyer's quibbles and quiddits."
he took another sheet from his blotting-book, and wrote a second note, much more rapidly than the first one. it ran after this fashion—
"dear mrs. montagu,—
"will you think it very rude of me if i ask you to let me be one of your party on your expedition up the river to-morrow? i heard of it from your son algernon last night at the balfours', and i happen to be very anxious to meet one of the ladies you have invited. now, i know you're kindness itself to all your young friends in all these little matters, and i'm sure you won't be angry with me for so coolly inviting myself. if i hadn't felt perfect confidence in your invariable goodness, i wouldn't have ventured to do so. please don't answer unless you've no room for me, but expect me to turn up at half-past two.
"yours very sincerely,
"ernest carnegie.
"p.s.—we might call at lady portlebury's lawn, and look over the conservatories."
"now, that's bold, but judicious," ernest said to himself, admiringly, as he held the letter at arm's-length, after blotting it. "she might have been angry at my inviting myself, though i don't think she would be; but i'm sure[pg 146] she'll be only too delighted if i offer to take her guests over aunt portlebury's conservatories. the postscript's a stroke of genius. what a fuss these people will make, even over the widow of a stupid old cavalry officer, because her husband happens to have been knighted. it's all the better that she's a widow, indeed. the delicious vagueness of the title 'lady' is certainly one of its chief recommendations. sir antony being out of the way, mrs. montagu's guests can't really tell but that poor dear old aunt portlebury may be a real live countess." and he folded his second letter up with the full satisfaction of an approving conscience.
when isabel walters received ernest carnegie's mysterious note, she was certainly mystified by it as he had expected, and also not a little gratified. he meant to propose to her, that was certain; and there was never a woman in the whole world who was not flattered by a handsome young man's marked attentions. it was a very queer letter, no doubt; but it had been written skilfully enough to suit the particular personality of isabel walters: for ernest carnegie was a keen judge of character, and he flattered himself that he knew how to adapt his correspondence to the particular temperament of the persons he happened to be addressing. and though isabel had no very distinct idea of what the two carnegies were severally like (it could hardly have been much more distinct if she had known them both intimately), she felt they were two very good-looking, agreeable young men, and she was not particularly averse to the attentions of either. after all, upon what straws we all usually hang our love-making! we see one another once or twice under exceptionally deceptive circumstances; we are struck at first sight with something that attracts us on either side; we find the attraction is mutual; we flounder at once into a declaration of undying attachment; we get married, and on the whole we generally find we were right after all, in[pg 147] spite of our precipitancy, and we live happily ever afterwards. so it was not really very surprising that isabel walters, getting such a note from one of the two handsome young mr. carnegies, should have been in some doubt which of the two identicals it actually was, and yet should have felt indefinitely pleased and flattered at the implied attention. which was ernest and which harold could only mean to her, when she came to think on it, which was the one she danced with first last night, and which the one she danced with second. she decided in her own mind that it would be better for her to go to the montagus' picnic to-morrow, but to say nothing about it to her mother. "mamma wouldn't understand the letter," she said to herself complacently; "she's so conventional; and when i come back to-morrow i can tell her one of the young carnegies was there, and that he proposed to me. she need never know there was any appointment."