"Pardon me, Lady Coldenham," replied the young man, boldly, "I seat myself in the presence of any one but my king, and the more readily where I see there are not manners enough to prevent my doing so unasked." The lady gazed at him for an instant with flashing eyes; but then something seemed to give a turn to her motions, and she burst into a laugh, crying, "This is too good! you are a scholar, I think, young man. Pray, under what professor did you study manners?"
"Under one, madam, who taught me that riches are not superior to gentle blood," replied Ralph; "that rank is to be respected only where it is combined with higher qualities, and that high station should meet with reverence when it is ornamented with courtesy, but not otherwise, except from fools and sycophants."
"By the book!" said the lady, "by the book! marvelous well remembered and recited; and now what brings you here, Sir Scholar? To what do I owe your polite attention? You come not here without cause--without motive, I suppose."
"I have been over-persuaded, Lady Coldenham," replied the young man, "to ride over, before I set out upon a somewhat long excursion, in order to make a formal call at the house of my father's cousin's widow, the only title by which you can be known to me--the only title which justifies or gives occasion for my visiting you."
Instead of a violent burst of passion, which he certainly expected, Lady Coldenham sat perfectly silent, leaned her head upon her hand, and repeated to herself once or twice the words "The only title!" She recovered herself soon, however, and replied, with a knitted brow, fiery eye, and stern bitterness of tone, "You are an insolent coxcomb--you always were."
The old man's words recurred to Ralph's mind at that moment, and he replied, as he had been prompted, though not with perfect accuracy, "Lady Coldenham," he said, "you have not done justice to me and mine, but the time will come when you must do us justice. I came not here to quarrel with you, or to bandy angry words, but with some hope that time might have made a change in you, or, at all events, might have banished bitter memories. I find it is not so, and therefore I will take my leave."
Thus saying, he rose, and was about to depart, but the lady exclaimed vehemently, "Sit down! I wish to speak with you."
He did as she desired, and for several minutes the old lady remained in thought, apparently struggling with some strong emotions in her own breast. At length she raised her eyes, which had been fixed vacantly on the table, and said, with a quivering lip, "You are bold and harsh, young man; but that I can forgive; I am not timid or tender myself. We are about to part for long, perhaps forever. Tell me, what can I do for you? If I can do aught, I will. That I owe to the memory of others."
"You can do nothing for me, madam, that I will accept," the young man replied; "a man must be base indeed to receive favors from one who grants them unwillingly. Happily, I need nothing, and certainly I would accept nothing at your hands even if I did. I am glad, however, that you have made the offer, as it suffers us to part with less angry words upon our lips than passed before. I thank you for your offer, and now will take my leave."
Thus saying, he arose and left the room, where the lady remained musing without uttering a word. On descending to the hall, he was met, in crossing it, by a young gentleman gayly attired, the eldest son of Lady Coldenham, and the actual possessor of the family title and estates. He might be two or three-and-twenty of age; but such had been the dominion exercised by Lady Coldenham over her husband during his life, that he had left, on dying, immense and unusual control over his whole property to his widow, besides a large jointure. Whispers, indeed, had gone abroad that the death-bed of the old lord had presented a painful and unsatisfactory scene, not only because he had died without faith and hope, but because the domineering spirit of his wife had been exercised, at that last fearful moment, with more violence and eagerness than even during his lifetime; and that she had watched his bedside night and day, not with the purpose of soothing and consoling, but, as the servants judged, from her never suffering him to be alone for a moment with any one, for the purpose of keeping him her slave to the last.