"My dear, what does that signify?" said Lady Ingram. "A mere coachman—what can it matter?"
"But will you not ask, Madam?" pursued Celia, in a very pained voice.
"Impossible, my dear!" replied Lady Ingram. "I could not demean myself by such a question, nor must you. Really, Celia, your manners are so wanting in repose! You must learn not to put yourself into a fever in this way for every little thing that happens. Imagine! I, Lady Ingram, stopping my coach, and yielding precedence to this upstart Scoresby, to inquire whether this person—a man of no family whatever—has had a little more or less blood let out by my footman's thrust! Ridiculous!" And Lady Ingram spread out her dress.
Celia shrank back as far as she could into the corner of the coach, and spoke, not in words, to the only Friend she had present with her. "Oh! send me back to Ashcliffe!" was the strong cry of her heart. "This woman has no feelings whatever. Unless there be some very necessary work for me to do in Paris, send me back home!"
But there was very necessary work to be done before she could go home.
After another quarter of a mile spent in struggling through the mud, the coach drew up at the door of a large house. William, who seemed none the worse for his battle, opened the door, and held out his arm to assist his ladies in alighting. Lady Ingram motioned to Thérèse to go first, and the maid laid her hand on the arm of her fellow-servant.
"Ah, bah!" exclaimed she, as she reached the ground. "Why you not wipe de blood from de sleeve? You spoil my cloak—faugh!"
"You had better not use your dagger, William," observed Lady Ingram, as she stepped out, "unless it be necessary. It frightens Madam Celia." And with a peculiar smile she looked back at her step-daughter.
Celia followed Lady Ingram into a lighted hall, where servants in blue and gold liveries stood round, holding tapers in silver candlesticks. They seemed to recognize Lady Ingram, though Celia noticed that William's livery was different from theirs, and therefore imagined that the house she was entering must be that of a stranger. Lady Ingram walked forward in her usual stately manner until she reached the head of the staircase, closely followed by Celia and Thérèse. On the second step from the top stood a gentleman in full dress, blue and gold. A conversation ensued between him and Lady Ingram, accompanied by a great deal of bowing and courtesying, flourishing of hands and shaking of heads, which, being in French, was of course lost upon Celia; but could she have understood it, this was what she would have heard.
"You do me such honor, Monsieur?"