Clemence broke the seal, and glanced over the contents. “You are right; Dr. Howard has been suddenly summoned to see a patient in the country.”
“Oh! then, dear Mrs. Effingham,” cried Louisa eagerly, laying her white-gloved hand on the arm of her step-mother, “you know that some one must fill his place; do—do let me go down to dinner!”
“Arabella is the elder,” replied Clemence.
“Arabella!” repeated Louisa, pettishly; “there is very little difference between our ages, and I am the taller of the two; besides,” she added more slowly, as if measuring her words as she spoke—“besides, after what passed the day before yesterday, I should hardly have expected you to favour Arabella.”
“I should think it very wrong to favour either,” said Clemence gravely, “and still more wrong to neglect either; for—” here she was suddenly interrupted and startled by the sound of a loud knock at the door.
“A guest already!” exclaimed Louisa, hurriedly attempting to pull on her left-hand glove.
“A guest already!” echoed Clemence, glancing uneasily at the unlighted chandelier, and laying her hand on the bell-rope.
In two minutes a loud voice was heard below in the hall. “Not see me!—going to have company! Trash and nonsense, man! she’ll see me at any hour, and in any company!” and a heavy, tramping step immediately sounded on the stair, while Clemence exclaimed, with mingled pleasure, surprise, and vexation, “Oh! can it be my dear Uncle Thistlewood?” and hastening down the long room, she met him just as he flung the door wide open.
In a moment she was in his arms! The old sea-captain kissed his niece heartily, again and again, each time making the room resound. Louisa, extremely diverted, perhaps a little maliciously so, at what she considered the inopportune appearance of one of Mrs. Effingham’s vulgar relations, advanced towards the door to have a nearer view of the meeting, and so came in for her share of it.
“Ah! one of your daughters, Clemence?” cried her old uncle, and he immediately bestowed on the astonished Louisa a fatherly salute. “Fine, well-grown girl,” he continued in his loud, cheerful voice; “must make you feel quite old, my darling, to have children as tall as yourself! But let us have a little of the fire, for it’s blowing great guns to-night, and I’ve had my feet half frozen off on the top of the omnibus!” And marching up to the grate at the end of the room, the captain spread out his coarse red hands to the warmth, after having stirred the fire to a roaring blaze, and stamped on the rug to warm his feet, leaving the impression of his boots on the velvet. “And now, let me have a better look of your sweet face, blessings on it!” cried the sea-man, turning towards Clemence, and taking hold of both her hands, while he fixed on her a gaze of fond admiration. Very lovely, indeed, looked Mrs. Effingham, with the flush of excitement on her cheek, and the sparkle of affection in her eye. Captain Thistlewood was evidently pleased with his survey, though he said,—