Rosalind instantly recognised the spot as one frequently resorted to in their evening rambles, for the sake of its cool and secluded beauty, and also because a bench, divided into commodious stalls, surrounded the capacious tree, from whence opened a vista commanding a charming view across the Park.
On the turf before this bench, and with their backs turned towards the spot where Rosalind and Henrietta stood, knelt Mr. Cartwright and Fanny. His eyes were fixed upon her with passionate admiration, and the first words they distinctly heard were these, spoken with great vehemence by the vicar:--
"Persecuted--trampled on--turned forth from every other roof, let thy blue vault spread over us, and while I struggle to snatch this precious brand from the eternal fire of thy wrath, pour upon our heads the dew of thy love! Grant me power to save this one dear soul alive, though it should seem good in thy sight that millions should perish around her! Save her from the eternal flame that even now rises to lick her feet, and if not stayed by prayer--the prayer of thy saints,--will speedily envelope and consume her!"
Rosalind remained to hear no more. Heartsick, indignant, disgusted, and almost terrified by what she saw and heard, she retreated hastily, and, followed by Henrietta, rapidly pursued her way to the house.
Her companion made an effort to overtake her, and, almost out of breath by an exertion to which she was hardly equal, she said,
"I have shown you this, Miss Torrington, for the sake of giving you a useful lesson. If you are wise, you will profit by it, and learn to know that it is not always safe to suppose you have produced an effect, merely because it may be worth some one's while to persuade you into believing it. Having said thus much to point the moral of our walk in the sun, you may go your way, and I will go mine. I shall not enter upon any more elaborate exposition of Mr. Cartwright's character."
So saying, she fell back among the bushes, and Rosalind reached the house alone.
On entering her dressing-room, Miss Torrington sat herself down, with her eau de Cologne bottle in one hand and a large feather fan in the other, to meditate--coolly, if she could, but at any rate to meditate--upon what she ought to do in order immediately to put a stop to the very objectionable influence which Mr. Cartwright appeared to exercise over the mind of Fanny.