"As you will; but 'where the MacDonald sits, there is the head of the table,'" said Mrs. Dugald, quoting the haughty words of the Lord of the Isles, as she gave way and subsided into a side seat.
Lord Vincent, with a lowering brow, sat down.
Old Cuthbert, who sometimes officiated as butler, placed himself behind his lord's chair, and two footmen waited on the table.
The dinner was splendid in its service, and luxurious in its viands; but most uncomfortable in its company, and it suggested the Scripture proverb: "Better is a dinner of herbs where love is, than a stalled ox and hatred therewith."
Claudia, for one, was glad when it was over, and they were permitted to return to the saloon, where coffee awaited them.
"Mrs. Dugald, will you give me some music?" said Lord Vincent, in the course of the evening.
The beauty arose, and floated away in her soft, swimming gait towards the piano.
Lord Vincent went after her and opened the instrument; and when she sat down he stood behind her chair to turn over the music.
She played a brilliant prelude, and then commenced singing.
Claudia, who, at the proposition that Mrs. Dugald should give Lord Vincent "some music," had shrugged her shoulders and turned her back, was now startled. She turned around—listened. Claudia was a most fastidious connoisseur of music, and she recognized in this performer an artiste of the highest order. Claudia had heard such music as this only from the best opera singers—certainly from no unprofessional performer.