"So much the better," muttered the old lady, who seemed, however, to be speaking aside, so no one took any notice of her. She rose when Ellen left the room, and returned her graceful courtesy with a not ungracious bend, and bade her good morning with an air more conciliating than she had shewn on her entrance.
On relating the particulars of this visit to her Lord, Lady St. Aubyn found there was no doubt the old lady she had seen was Lady Juliana Mordaunt: he made her repeat the conversation that had passed, and when she told him that the old lady had made use of the disrespectful term, "this young person," in speaking of her, he coloured excessively, and execrating his aunt's pride and impertinence, told his wife she ought to have quitted the room immediately. He smiled when Ellen mentioned Lady Juliana's attention and kindness on her fainting, and said, "That is so like her: her warm heart thaws the ice of her manners when she sees any one ill or distrest."
When Ellen repeated the mention which had been made in the course of conversation of the late Lady St. Aubyn, he changed colour, and said, "Well, Ellen, were you not surprized? You did not, I believe, know—you never heard I had been married before."
"Pardon me, my Lord, I was previously acquainted with that circumstance."
"You knew it!—from whom? Where did you hear it?"
"From Miss Cecil, from Miss Alton, accidentally."
"And were they not astonished you had not heard it before?"
"I had heard it before from Mrs. Bayfield, the day after we went to Castle St. Aubyn."
"From Mrs. Bayfield—she told you of it?—She told you—What, Ellen, did she tell you more?"
"Nothing, my Lord, but that your lady was young and beautiful, and died abroad."