“Let me answer for myself, Mark,” said Isabella, “and assure you that, so far from curiosity, I feel an actual repugnance to the thought of meeting him. I don't really know whether the condescending politeness of such a man, or his cool impertinence, is the greater insult.”
“Poor Maitland, how will you encounter what is prepared for you?” said be, mockingly; “but courage, girls, I think he 'll survive it,—only I beg no unnecessary cruelty,—no harshness beyond what his own transgressions may call down upon him; and don't condemn him merely, and for no other reason, than because he is the friend of your brother.” And with this speech he turned short round and ascended a steep path at his side, and was lost to their view in a minute.
“Isn't he changed, Alice? Did you ever see any one so altered?”
“Not a bit changed, Bella; he is exactly what he was at the grammar-school, at Harrow, and at Sandhurst,—very intolerant to the whole world, as a compensation for the tyranny some one, boy or man as it may be, exercises over him. All his good qualities lie under this veil, and so it was ever with him.”
“I wish his friend was not coming.”
“And I wish that he had not sent away ours, for I 'm sure Tony would have been up here before this if something unusual had not occurred.”
“Here's a strange piece of news for you, girls,” said Sir Arthur, coming towards them. “Tony Butler left for Liverpool in the packet this morning. Barnes, who was seeing his brother off, saw him mount the side of the steamer with his portmanteau in his hand. Is it not singular he should have said nothing about this last night?”
The sisters looked with a certain secret intelligence at each other, but did not speak. “Except, perhaps, he may have told you girls.” added he quickly, and catching the glance that passed between them.
“No, papa,” said Alice, “he said nothing of his intention to us; indeed, he was to have ridden over with me this morning to Mount-Leslie, and ask about those private theatricals that have been concerted there for the last two years, but of which all the performers either marry or die off during the rehearsals.”
“Perhaps this all-accomplished friend of Mark's who comes here by the end of the week, will give the project his assistance. If the half of what Mark says of him be true, we shall have for our guest one of the wonders of Europe.”