In fact, he had got to think himself privileged to remonstrate against this, and to dictate that—a state, be it observed, which, whatever its effect upon the ‘lady of his love,’ makes a man particularly odious to the people around him, and he is singularly fortunate if it make him not ridiculous also.
The docile or submissive was not the remarkable element in Nina’s nature. She usually resisted advice, and resented anything like dictation from any quarter. Indeed, they who knew her best saw that, however open to casual influences, a direct show of guidance was sure to call up all her spirit of opposition. It was, then, a matter of actual astonishment to all to perceive not only how quietly and patiently she accepted Walpole’s comments and suggestions, but how implicitly she seemed to obey them.
All the little harmless freedoms of manner with Dick Kearney and O’Shea were now completely given up. No more was there between them that interchange of light persiflage which, presupposing some subject of common interest, is in itself a ground of intimacy.
She ceased to sing the songs that were their favourites. Her walks in the garden after breakfast, where her ready wit and genial pleasantry used to bring her a perfect troop of followers, were abandoned. The little projects of daily pleasure, hitherto her especial province, were changed for a calm subdued demeanour which, though devoid of all depression, wore the impress of a certain thoughtfulness and seriousness.
No man was less observant than old Kearney, and yet even he saw the change at last, and asked Kate what it might mean. ‘She is not ill, I hope,’ said he, ‘or is our humdrum life too wearisome to her?’
‘I do not suspect either,’ said Kate slowly. ‘I rather believe that as Mr. Walpole has paid her certain attentions, she has made the changes in her manner in deference to some wishes of his.’
‘He wants her to be more English, perhaps,’ said he sarcastically.
‘Perhaps so.’
‘Well, she is not born one of us, but she is like us all the same, and I’ll be sorely grieved if she’ll give up her light-heartedness and her pleasantry to win that Cockney.’
‘I think she has won the Cockney already, sir.’