"So I am; but you don't mind it. Here he is. Let me introduce you before he takes me off. Lord Hilton, Mr. Closs."
The next moment Clara was whirling through the room, with Hepworth Closs' arm around her waist, and her hand on his shoulder. She kept her word, and spent half her evening with him, managing to escape observation as much as possible, and thus secured a few hours of supreme happiness.
Lord Hope had received his brother-in-law with gentlemanly ease. How could he help it, not being master at Houghton?
Besides, he was disposed to cast off all responsibility with regard to his daughter's choice of a husband, and leave everything to the judgment and pride of the old countess, who happened to like Closs, and was not aware how much of that evening he spent with her grandchild.
Rachael was in ecstasies. She loved her brother dearly, and his apparent reconciliation with her husband lifted the last cloud from her heart. It seemed to her that night as if she had nothing to wish for.
The old countess stood to her post bravely, until after the supper-rooms had been thrown open and the gay crowds had passed in and out again; but when the dancing had recommenced and the conversation around her grew brilliant and a little confusing, she turned suddenly pale, and would have fallen, but that Lady Clara, who stood near, sprang forward and threw both arms around her.
"She is better; she can walk now. I will go with her," cried the excited young creature. "Papa, you shall help her up-stairs, then I will take care of her," she added, seeing how helpless the old lady was.
Lord Hope almost carried the old lady up-stairs. Then Clara called aloud for Caroline Brown, who came out from her chamber, and, between them, they led the old countess into the tower-room.