“It was startling to hear his name,” said Lionel, when after awhile, as quickly as politeness permitted, the visitor took his leave.
“What was there peculiar about his name? Oliver! it is not a bad name,” Lady Brotherton said.
“It is not the Oliver, but the Isaac Oliver. Lydia was startled too. It is a name we know very well in the Fell-country,” Lionel said. He was able to treat the subject more lightly than Liddy, on whom, in her excitement, this new and sudden fire had caught at once. He told his mother all about Isaac Oliver, with details that quite satisfied her as to the origin of the stranger’s startled looks and apparent excitement when he heard Liddy’s name.
“That’s it, you may be sure,” she said; “he is ashamed of his people. He is a son or a nephew or something of your old man, and he doesn’t want it to be known; very natural. He must have kept it a secret from Mr. Bonamy--who never would have let Rita marry him if he had known. Well, I am almost glad it is that, and nothing worse. I thought you had made an impression upon him, Liddy, my dear. I thought his eyes would have leapt out of his head when he saw you. Of course, I saw in a moment there was something; but this explains it. Dear, dear, what a sad thing for the Bonamys if it ever comes to be known! You must take the greatest care, both of you, not to betray him. Now, remember--not a word,” Lady Brotherton said, making as though she would have put her soft, plump, white hand first on one mouth and then on another. Nevertheless, when Mr. Bonamy himself came in later, she could not help telling him that “my young people” knew, they supposed, some of Mr. Oliver’s friends. But Lady Brotherton was very sorry when she saw with how much interest a statement which she thought too vague to do any harm was received.
“My dear lady,” the Vice-Consul cried, “they know more than I do if they know his friends. He is the best fellow in the world and the best son, and the most excellent husband that ever was; but I fear the world in general would think me very imprudent. I know nothing about his family, except that he quarrelled with them, and made a vow never to return till he had made his fortune. Well, I don’t know where he will do that--not in the service of H.B.M. He has settled down here with me, and we are all very comfortable, and it was no small comfort to me to find an English husband for Rita who would not insist upon taking her to England. It was all settled,” said Mr. Bonamy, “when I was so ill. I believed I was going to die, and so did everybody else; and to provide for my Rita was all I thought of. Well, I have nothing to regret. He makes her an excellent husband, and she is as happy as the day is long; and I don’t know what I should do without him. Still I allow it was rash, for I know nothing about his friends.”