‘And, dear Mr. Glastonbury, why did you not come up and see me?’ said the younger duchess.
‘And, dear Mr. Glastonbury, do you remember me?’ said one beautiful daughter.
‘And me, Mr. Glastonbury, me? I am Isabella.’
Blushing, smiling, bowing, constrained from the novelty of his situation, and yet every now and then quite at ease when his ear recalled a familiar voice, dear Mr. Glastonbury was gratified and happy. The duke took him aside, and they were soon engaged in conversation.
‘How is Henrietta to-day, Digby?’ enquired Isabella.
‘I left her an hour ago; we have been riding, and expected to meet you all. She will be here immediately.’
There was a knock, and soon the drawing-room door opened, and Miss Temple was announced.
‘I must make papa’s apologies,’ said Henrietta, advancing and embracing the old duchess. ‘I hope he may get here in the evening: but he bade me remind your Grace that your kind invitation was only provisionally accepted.’
‘He is quite right,’ said the old lady; ‘and indeed I hardly expected him, for he told me there was a public dinner which he was obliged to attend. I am sure that our dinner is a very private one indeed,’ continued the old lady with a smile. ‘It is really a family party, though there is one member of the family here whom you do not know, my dear Miss Temple, and whom, I am sure, you will love as much as all of us do. Digby, where is———’
At this moment dinner was announced. Lord Montfort offered his arm to Henrietta. ‘There, lead the way,’ said the old lady; ‘the girls must beau themselves, for I have no young men to-day for them. I suppose man and wife must be parted, so I must take my son’s arm; Mr. Glastonbury, you will hand down the duchess.’ But before Glastonbury’s name was mentioned Henrietta was half-way down stairs.