As the door which admitted De Vaux and his companion was that which led to the back staircase, the party in the drawing-room concluded, naturally enough, that it was opened by one of the domestics on some of the many motives or pretexts upon which a servant can visit the drawing-room. No one took any notice, no one looked up; and the fair girl upon the sofa went on commenting upon the book in her hand, without knowing that any one was listening to her gentle criticism.
Thus each of the two visiters had time to make their own observations, if they chose it. A bright pleased smile lighted up the rough features of Colonel Manners, as he was thus at once admitted, without the help of an Asmodeous into the very heart of an English domestic circle, to each member of which he was a stranger. To him it was a sight full of pleasure and interest; it was a sight that he had seldom seen even when in England, and which he had not seen at all for several years while serving abroad: but it was one which fancy had often renewed for him in his solitary wanderings, which had been painted to his eye in the still night, and in the tented field on distant shores, which had been to him a dream, whereunto imagination could cling without the apprehension of disappointment; for he had ever thought of it as a thing whereof he might be the spectator, but never a sharer in its dearer ties.
As for Edward de Vaux, he did not choose to make any observations on the scene at all, for more fastidious in anticipation than in reality, the moment he was in the midst of his domestic circle a host of bright warm feelings rose up at once in his heart, and trampled every cold calculation of Chesterfieldism beneath their feet. Passing the old servant, who was himself amused to see the unconsciousness of the party in the drawing-room, De Vaux at once advanced towards the fair girl on the sofa. But there was a sound in his step different from that of any of the servants, which only let him pass half across the room ere her eyes were raised from the book and fell upon him. The sight instantly called into them a gleam as bright as sunshine after a storm, and the warm, eloquent blood rose into her cheek and brow, while with a voice of unquestionable icy, she exclaimed, "Edward! My dear aunt, here is Edward!"
The next moment, however, the light of her glance faded away, the blood ebbed back from her cheek, and from that moment it was scarcely perceivable that Edward de Vaux was anything more to her than an intimate friend. It was all the work of an instant, and Colonel Manners had only time to think, "This is all very odd!" ere the other two ladies rose to welcome his companion and himself; while the one who had spoken, gracefully but composedly drew her small foot from the sofa to the ground, and advanced to meet her lover; contriving to execute what is sometimes a difficult manœuvre, without showing half an inch of her ankle, though it might very well have borne the display.
The elder lady now of course took the lead, and expressed her joy at the return of her nephew, in a manner which showed how compatible real dignity and grace are with every zealous and kindly feeling. "And this," she said the next moment, "is of course Colonel Manners; though you have not introduced him to me, Edward; but Colonel Manners indeed requires no introduction here; for allow me to say, my dear sir, that even were it not that you had saved the life of my nephew, and rendered him so many inestimable services, the son of your mother, who was my dear and early friend, would always be the most welcome of guests at my fire-side."
Colonel Manners bowed, and replied, "I have been lucky enough to find among my mother's papers, madam, the letters of the Honourable Mrs. Falkland; and am aware how fortunate in a friend my parent was during the greater part of her short life. Most proud shall I be if the son may merit some portion of the same regard which you bestowed upon the mother."
"You already command it, Colonel Manners," she replied: "Isadore,--Marian--Colonel Manners! My daughter--my niece, Miss De Vaux."
Now this introduction puzzled Colonel Manners a good deal, for reasons which may as well be explained. He had heard long before, while abroad, that his friend Edward de Vaux, the only son of Lord Dewry, was affianced to his cousin, and that their marriage was to take place as soon as the young heir of the barony could return to his native country, provided that the lady were by that time of age. In the course of their intimacy in other lands, De Vaux had often spoken of his fair cousin Marian, and had indeed on their return besought Colonel Manners to accompany him down to the house of his aunt, in order to act the part of bridesman at his wedding, which was to take place immediately. With this request we have seen that he complied; but he had completely made up his mind to the belief that his friend was about to be united to the daughter of Mrs. Falkland, and he was now surprised to find a Miss De Vaux, towards whom the manner of Edward de Vaux was not exactly that which men assume towards their sisters. Besides, her name was Marian, that of his promised bride; and although this discovery, leaping over the head of all his own preconceptions, puzzled Colonel Manners for a moment, he soon set it all to rights in his own mind, by supposing, what was in fact the truth, that the fair girl we have described was the daughter of Lord Dewry's brother.
All the while he was settling this to his own satisfaction, he was going through the manual of politeness, and doing De Vaux the favour of talking to Mrs. Falkland and her daughter, while the lover spoke in a lower tone to the other fair cousin. Whatever he said, however, seemed to have no very great effect upon her. She smiled, and seemed to answer him kindly and affectionately; but she displayed no further sign of that agitation which a girl in her situation might be expected to feel on the return of her lover from a long and dangerous expedition. Once, indeed, she laid her hand upon the table near her, and Colonel Manners saw that, notwithstanding the general composure which she seemed to feel, that hand trembled so much, that, as if conscious its tremour might be perceived, she instantly withdrew it, and suffered her arm to fall gracefully by her side.
Manners marked all this, for from their first acquaintance De Vaux had interested him, as much perhaps by the contrast of the little foibles of his character with the greater and nobler qualities it possessed, as by any other circumstance: he had gradually suffered a deep regard for him to rise up in his heart; he had permitted imagination to indulge herself with bright pictures of his friend's domestic happiness; and in every little trait connected therewith he had a sort of personal feeling, which made him seek to discover all that he wished might be.