"He is, indeed. I never learned it till yesterday; but it does not seem strange, for no father was ever more gentle or kind than he has been since the first day I knew him."
"And Olympia—she is your mother, no doubt?"
"Yes; she is my mother."
"All right, we needn't talk of her! it isn't of the least consequence. You must not speak so sadly. I dare say she is a good enough person; but you don't know how to manage her. For my part, I rather like her; but the old gentleman is just lovely! I am glad he is your father; because he can take care of us so properly, and grandmamma will like it, I know. I have got you a chamber next to mine. Our dressing-rooms open into each other, and they are both near grandmamma's apartments. Dear old lady, she is just the kindest, sweetest, loveliest mite of a woman you ever saw; like a darling old fairy. Won't you love her?"
They drove along now for some distance in silence; but as they mounted to the uplands, where Houghton stood, Caroline began to take a lively interest in the scenery, which was both grand and beautiful in that region. Away toward the horizon, at the upper end of the valley, was some large building, whose gray walls and oriel windows were just now burning in the golden fires of a magnificent sunset.
"What place is that?" said Clara, repeating the question her companion had asked, "Oh, that is Keath Hall, and may some day belong to Lord Hilton, a friend of ours."
Caroline felt her breath taken away, she had no power to speak, while Lady Clara sat smiling pleasantly to herself. The poor girl felt like springing out of the carriage, and fleeing to the uttermost parts of the earth, rather than be in the neighborhood with a man who had scorned her so.
"Lord Hilton is not there now," said Clara, with the innocent quietness of a kitten; "something has taken him to London or Italy, I believe; but he is very pleasant, and I like him well enough to be sorry about his going."
Caroline breathed again; but her face was very sorrowful and her heart heavy, during the rest of the drive.
The size and splendor of that vast building almost terrified the girl, who had been brought up in that little cedar cottage. She gave no indication of this in her manner, but walked by the side of her friend through that spacious hall, with its bronze statues, suits of armor and bossed shields, as if no meaner roof had ever sheltered her.