After uttering that mad, passionate speech, so crammed
with bitter and scornful irony, Mr. Effingham, as we have
seen, flung from the young girl's room, in an access of rage,
which tore him like a vulture's talons. He had passed
through many of these fiery interviews lately, and had many
such pale rages, which tore his heart for a time, then slowly
subsided, like a storm muttering away into the distance.
On this occasion he found himself, as usual, grow somewhat
calmer, when her cold and inexorable face was removed
from him; and soon his bitter, reckless smile returned, and
mockery replaced anger.

He went back to the manager's room, and threw the
costume disdainfully into the trunk; then, scarcely conscious
of what he was doing, proceeded to restore the various
bundles to their places. Fate still directed him, for who
knows what would have occurred if that fit of absence had
not seized him, and he had left those dresses where they
lay—throwing down carelessly the one he had brought back
upon them? He had just slammed down the lid of the
trunk violently, when Mr. Manager Hallam returned.

“Ah, sir,” he said, with a smile, “you are tired of the
search; are you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I think there was little good in it. My military
costumes are still at Yorktown.”

“Are they?” said Mr. Effingham, coldly.

“Yes, sir, as I informed you.”

“Did you?”

“Ha, ha! don't you recollect, sir?”

[figure description] Page 229.[end figure description]

“How can I? I have just had such a charming interview
with your amiable daughter.”

“Ah! have you, sir?” said Mr. Manager Hallam,
anxiously; for his matrimonial project never left his
thoughts.

“Yes,” returned Mr. Effingham, with scornful carelessness;
“I think she is beginning to like me.”

“I am sure of it, sir,” said the delighted worthy.

“She seemed to brighten up, when I entered.”

“Did she, indeed?”

“Of course she did! She seemed delighted to see me!”

“She is the most truthful and sincere girl in the world—
a gold mine would not make her smile, if she did not
choose to,” said Hallam, with real fraternal pride.

“Quite true,” replied Mr. Effingham; “she is perfectly
sincere.”

“Indeed she is, sir.”

“And plain-spoken.”

“Oh, remarkably!”

“And we spent half an hour delightfully.”

“You are gaining on her, sir.”

“You think she don't hate me, then?”

“Oh, sir!”

“Come, answer.”

“Hate you, sir? Never, sir!”

“How then? Does she love me?”

This somewhat embarrassed Mr. Manager Hallam; for
the young girl's demeanor to Mr. Effingham, when he had
observed it lately, was exceedingly far from supporting an
answer in the affirmative. But he replied, at once:

“I think she will in time, sir.”

“In time!”

“Very soon, sir.”

“Really?”

“Yes, sir; I have observed little things of late which
prove to me that you are acquiring her affection; and she no
longer—”

“You are right—I understand—she no longer scorns,
and insults, and hates me—”

“Oh, sir!”

“She no longer tells me that she will never look at me

[figure description] Page 230.[end figure description]

but with hatred and aversion. In our interviews now she
smiles, and presses my hands tenderly, and seems to pity my
pale cheeks, and languid eyes—my health is dear to her—
or becoming dear—she is beginning to love me. Yes, as
you very justly say, sir, I am `beginning to acquire her
affection'!”

And the young man laughed, with terrible irony—a
laugh which jarred upon Manager Hallam's ears, and dispelled,
unpleasantly, the agreeable impression the words
were calculated to produce.

“Bah!” continued Mr. Effingham; “let us leave love
matters, and come to business. You have no Benedick costume
here?”

“Really—I believe not, sir; but—”

“Have you at Yorktown?”

“Oh yes, sir.”

“In trunks?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where are they?”

“Stored in the warehouse.”

“Good; then you have a complete Benedick dress at
Yorktown in trunks, stored in the warehouse?” said Mr.
Effingham, summing up with disdainful nonchalance.

“Yes, sir.”

“Give me the key.”

“The key, sir?”

“I am going to get the dress.

“You, sir!”

“Certainly; what the devil are you staring at?”

“Why—really, sir—”

“Give me the key!”

“Of course, sir; here it is,” said the manager, taking a
huge iron key from a drawer of the table.

“Is there but one trunk?”

“Three, sir.”

“Well, the dress—”

“Is in the green one, bound with brass hoops.”

“Very well. They know me there; and when I assure
them further that I am a member of the company, there will
be small difficulty. Order my horse,” he added to a servant
passing through the passage.

[figure description] Page 231.[end figure description]

And the young man, without taking the trouble to say
good-bye to Hallam, went out, and going along the passage,
entered his own room, leaving the worthy manager in a state
of stupor, staring after him.

“Well, really,” said Manager Hallam, at length, “that
young man is an extraordinary character. I don't know how
to deal with him. He snubs me; I feel he is continually
a-roasting me, and I don't know how to answer. He has
such lordly airs—worse than the great Congreve. Well, he
is going to act, and go to the ball with Beatrice; and then
I'll have him. He is not good enough for her, I know,
except that he is so rich. Effingham Hall comes to him, I
understand; and that is enough.”

With which Mr. Manager Hallam began to dream of
the clover-enveloped life which he desired so ardently.

An hour or two afterwards Mr. Effingham issued forth,
clad as before in his rich foppish costume—only that his
slippers were replaced by elegant riding buskins reaching
a little above the ankle and ornamented with rosettes: he
seldom wore boots, then rapidly becoming the fashion among
all classes. In his hand he carried an elegant gold-ornamented
riding whip—and so he mounted, and, as the evening
closed in stormily, set forth toward Yorktown.

Half an hour afterwards it began to rain heavily, and
this circumstance distressed Mr. Manager Hallam exceedingly;
without reason, however, for the theatre was crammed
from pit to dome, and Beatrice had never been more
completely overwhelmed with applause, or had acted with
such overpowering splendor. They could not know what
gave that supernatural power to the young girl's voice, that
marvellous reality to the expression of her lips and eyes—
but they saw the wonderful genius, and rose up with a
shout that drowned the thunder rolling through the sky
without.

Long before midnight the storm cleared away, and in
the now silent streets the stroke of a horse's hoof was heard,
and this horse stopped before the Raleigh. Mr. Effingham
dismounted, and summoning the sleepy servant, gave his animal
into his hands.

The horse was covered with sweat, and his mouth dropping
foam.

p520-237

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Mr. Effingham was clad in a complete military suit—
huge boots, curved heavy sword, broad belt, and Flanders
hat. Mr. Manager Hallam had no such costume in his repertory,
and indeed, Mr. Effingham had not visited the good
town of York, at all.