To look upon her, one felt that there was a person of a strong will and powerful intellect, but no one could imagine that any of the tender weaknesses of woman's heart had ever found place in that bosom.
She had before her, at the moment I have chosen to present her to the reader, a number of papers--stewards' accounts, household books, statements of building expenses, and estimates; but with these she seemed to have done, for though her jeweled fingers rested upon them, her head was lifted, and her eyes turned toward the casement, though the sun was shining through it fiercely; and on her face there was a look of stern desolation--of melancholy, not gentle, but hard, which might well picture disappointed expectation from those worldly goods, which always, in the words of the poet, "turn to ashes on the lips."
As she thus sat, a servant entered and approached quietly within a respectful distance, and then stood waiting for her notice. For a moment she pursued her revery, whatever was its subject; but then, seeming to become by degrees conscious of the man's presence, she slightly turned her head and inclined her ear. Well versed in all her ways, the man immediately announced his errand, saying, "Mr. Ralph Woodhall, my lady, is below, and desires admittance to you."
"Who? who?" cried the lady, almost starting from her chair, while her face grew alternately white and red, and her eye flashed with angry brightness.
"Mr. Ralph Woodhall, the gentleman said," replied the servant.
"Let the beggar's son ride off!" said his mistress, fiercely; "he shall not--no, he shall not--yet stay--give him admittance, but not at once--not at once; keep him five minutes or so, then bring him in."
The servant bowed low and retired, not at all surprised by bursts of strong feeling, to which he was apparently well accustomed.
As soon as he was gone, the lady rose and walked up and down the room. "Ralph Woodhall," she said aloud, "Ralph Woodhall! what can bring him here at the end of seven or eight years? I thought I had freed this house of him and his miserable inert father--come to beg, perhaps. Well, no matter, they can do no great harm, now that my good lord is dead; or perhaps--but no, that can not be--Ralph Woodhall. But hark! they are coming;" and she resumed her seat, smoothing her brow, and affecting to look quickly over the papers before her.
The next instant young Ralph Woodhall was ushered into the room, and his name pompously announced; but the lady took no notice, and still turned over the papers, comparing one page with another. Ralph was well dressed, and the glow of youth and exercise were upon as fine and manly a face as eye could look upon. He observed at once the studied negligence of his reception, and his first impulse was to turn upon his heel and quit the room; but he thought that by so doing he would give the proud woman the advantage, and, doubting not that it was her intention to keep him standing like a dependant till she chose to notice him, he advanced, with wonderful tranquillity of air, and seated himself in one of the green velvet chairs exactly opposite to her, throwing himself back, and letting his eye run quietly over the decorations of the room.
Her eye was instantly upon him, and a bright red glow came into her cheek. "Young man," she said, after a moment or two of bitter silence, "nobody seats himself in my presence till he is asked to do so. You are unmannerly."