Isabella Slingsby was the most straightforward girl in the world, by nature; and she had but one class of experimental teaching in regard to concealing her feelings. She could hide, occasionally, how much she disliked some of her father's guests; she could conceal from him how painful to her was much that she saw under his own roof. In every thing else, however, she was as frank as the day; and, seeing Mr. Beauchamp receive a letter, and look not discontented with it, she said, somewhat inconsiderately:
"You seem to have had pleasant intelligence, Mr. Beauchamp?"
That gentleman turned his eyes suddenly upon her, and very fine and lustrous eyes they were, and he gazed at her for an instant with a smile so blended with many emotions, that Isabella, she knew not why, cast down her eyes, and coloured. After a brief pause, he replied:
"Not unpleasant, Miss Slingsby; for so strange a thing is the heart of man, or, rather I should say, so strange a thing is his fate, that, in the course of years and with the change of circumstances, there will be pleasure even in the total ending of what were once bright hopes. The things we coveted and obtained, in the world's variation become burdensome to us; as, at the end of a long day's journey, we lay down with relief the weight which, at the outset, we carried with joy or pride."
"That is because men are so fickle, I suppose," answered Isabella. "The only constant beings on earth are women and Newfoundland dogs, Mr. Beauchamp--it is so, I assure you, whatever you may think of it. I know the wicked world takes a different view of the subject; but the world is man's; and women might very well say a different picture would be produced, 'if we lions were painters!'"
"Nay," answered Beauchamp, laughing, "I am not one of those evil speakers and slanderers. I have had time to observe in the world where I have been these many years as a mere spectator, watching the characters of men and women; and I can justly say, that there are, at least, ten good women for one good man. Circumstances may have something to do with it; education, opportunity for good or evil; but still there must be a fine and pure spirit at the heart, teaching to avoid evil and to seek good."
"I believe, in truth, there is," answered Mrs. Clifford, joining in the conversation; "and that the bent of almost every woman's mind is towards that which is right. But if you are the creatures of circumstances, Mr. Beauchamp, we are, in many, respects, the creatures of your hands; you give the bent and the direction of somewhat more than half our thoughts, I am afraid, and are--"
"To be blamed, if you go wrong," exclaimed Sir John Slingsby, with a loud laugh; "to be sure, to be sure; that is a woman's philosophy, my dear Harriet; all that she does good is her own, all that she does wrong is man's; but let me tell you, my dear sister, that there is no little doubt, in the minds of the best informed, which has the most influence; man over woman, or woman over man. I am of the last opinion; and I see it every day in my case and that of others; here this girl, Isabella, rules me with a rod of iron--does any thing she likes with me; but, by my faith, for this day I shall abstract myself from her authority; for I have some business to settle during the morning; and she must entertain her guests as she can. Mr. Beauchamp, if you leave my house during the next four-and-twenty hours, it will be a clear proof that Miss Slingsby does not entertain you properly; and I shall be very angry with her inhospitality, if I do not find you at lunch and dinner, tea and supper, and breakfast to-morrow morning; for I shall be quite sure she has not made my house agreeable."
"An imputation that I should be the last to bring upon Miss Slingsby," said Mr. Beauchamp; and in truth he seemed to feel what he said; for when they rose from the breakfast-table, and the party sauntered to the window, in that pleasant indolence which generally succeeds the first meal of the day--that five minutes that succeeds to breakfast, in short, before we put on the armour of active exertion--he attached himself closely to Miss Slingsby's side, engaged her in conversation so light and cheerful, that the whole character of the man seemed changed. Not that what he said was without thought; for there was a deep undercurrent of reflection running all the time, which gave it quite a different tone from what is called small-talk. It was sparkling, brilliant, even playful; but its principal effect on the minds of those who heard was to set them thinking. There was a marked attention in his manner towards Isabella Slingsby, which flattered her a little. She might have perceived before that he was struck with her beauty, that he admired her, that he liked her society, when he had twice or thrice met her at Dr. Miles's. She had thought him exceedingly agreeable, and had fancied that he thought her so too; but there had been nothing said or done--not one word, one look, one gesture, that could set imagination flying any further; and she had rested satisfied with letting things take their course, without any other feeling than a slight degree of regret that her father had not made the acquaintance of one so superior in manners and in mind to the generality of those around. During the preceding evening, Beauchamp had appeared in no other character than that of the calm, dignified, quiet, and well-informed gentleman. But after breakfast his attentions were more pointed; and Isabella felt a little agitated, and doubtful of what all this would come to. She was not fond of any thing that agitated her: and therefore, somewhat more abruptly than was necessary, she broke through the conversation that was going on saying:
"Mr. Beauchamp, Mary and I have entered into a compact to go down and see Captain Hayward win his bet."