"Thanks for your diligence, my dear lord. I see the people are all in a bustle of preparation. My noble friend Lord Chartley will be here anon; for, good sooth, it gave me some trouble to outride him; and I would not have him find anything in disarray; for his own household, I am told, is the best ordered in England."
The words galled their auditor. He asked himself why it should be so; and he had nothing to reply; for the movements of the human heart, deep, subtle, and intricate, conceal themselves constantly more or less, not only from the eyes of the outward world, but from the sight of the mind, which is affected by their impulses. As the ship leaves no permanent trace in the ever closing waters, as the arrow marks not its path through the sky, so do feelings often pass through the human heart, leaving no trace of the way by which they came and went.
Fulmer could not prevent a frown from gathering on his brow; but, though marked by Sir Edward Hungerford, it passed unnoticed by old Lord Calverly, whose coming somewhat earlier than had been expected set the whole household of the castle in movement. Orders had to be given; rooms to be assigned; new preparations to be ordered; old preparations to be undone; servants, attendants, guests hurried here and there; and a great deal of bustle, and not a little confusion, prevailed, when, at length, Iola and Constance appeared in answer to a summons from their uncle. The former was still very pale; and the keen and marking eye of Fulmer detected--or he fancied that he detected--the trace of tears upon her beautiful cheek.
All passed unnoticed by her self-occupied uncle. He had not seen her for nearly two years, and he did not remark any change in her appearance. She might have been pale before, for aught he knew; and besides he was too busy to take any note of such trifling things as paleness or tears. He saluted both his nieces, and welcomed them to Chidlow in fewer words than was his wont; asked why their aunt, the abbess, had not come with them at his summons; but waited for no answer; and, committing them to the care of Lord Fulmer and Sir Edward Hungerford, with some gentlemen, of inferior fortune and station who had accompanied him from Leicester, he proceeded to reiterate orders given twice before, and confuse his servants with manifold directions, often somewhat contradictory.
Left in the hall with her cousin, and her uncle's guests, Iola felt some relief in the numbers who were present. Fulmer would fain have enacted the lover's part; nor was he indeed at all unfitted to do so; for his heart was naturally warm and impetuous, and Iola's beauty and grace might well have kindled the flame of love in a colder breast than his own. Strange human nature, too, would have it, that the doubts and apprehensions which had arisen in his mind should render him only the mere eager to overcome anything like coldness upon her part; and he strove, with soft speeches and low-toned words, to win her ear to himself alone.
The result was not favourable. Iola listened calmly, coldly, and ever replied aloud, in words which all the world might hear. She did so, not upon any plan or system indeed, but from the feelings which were busy in her own heart, and the impressions which his words produced. She was contrasting them all the time with those of Chartley; and to her mind, at least, the comparison was unfavourable. The frank gay manner, the lively half-careless answer, the want of all study and formality, the shining forth of a heart that, like a gay bird, seemed made captive in spite of itself, which had all pleased, excited, won her in Chartley, was not to be found in the conversation or demeanour of Lord Fulmer. Between her and him there were but few subjects in common; the only one, indeed, being that from which she shrunk away with apprehension. He could but have recourse to the common places of love and admiration; and they were not at all fitted to win her. It was his misfortune indeed, and not his fault; but yet we often aggravate our misfortunes by our faults; and so it was in some degree with Fulmer. He had dreamed bright dreams of their meeting; and, little knowing woman's heart, he had fancied that she would do the same, that she would look forward with the same hopes to their union, that her heart unwooed would spring to meet his; and he was disappointed, mortified, somewhat irritated, to find that it was not so.
Worse, in the end he showed such feelings in his manner, and by an impatient look and tone, caused Iola to shrink from him still more coldly.
It was just at that moment that old Lord Calverly returned, saying aloud--
"Our other guests are coming. They are just at the castle gates. Now, Constance," he continued, for his lordship would sometimes venture an insipid joke, "now, Constance, if you would win a rich and noble husband, put on your brightest smiles."
"Who may he be, my lord?" asked Constance, who as well as Iola was ignorant of the names of the persons expected.