“Give you credit? Of course, child!” said Mrs Brandon quietly. “Sit down, you foolish girl. So, this is the dandy—the exquisite! I think we can arrange for his visiting here no more. That is,” she said playfully, “unless you wish to see him.”
Ella’s eyes quite flashed and her nostrils dilated as she recalled past insults; all of which was duly marked by Mrs Brandon, who smiled once more as she rose to leave the room.
“I need not spare his feelings, I presume?” she said.
“What excuses can I offer you?—what thanks can I give you?” cried Ella earnestly.
“Just as many as I ask you for,” said Mrs Brandon, smiling, and then kissing her affectionately. “I believe you are a little witch, my child, and that you are charming all our hearts away. Why, the cook has been civil ever since you have been here; and Mary the housemaid has not said a word about giving warning; and as for Edward, he has not let the great passage-door slam once. But, bless me, child!” she said merrily, as she glanced at the mirror in front, “am I in fit trim to present myself before the great Mr Maximilian Bray?”
But Ella could not smile: her heart beat fast, and she was troubled; and, in spite of Mrs Brandon’s affectionate behaviour, she feared that this persecution might tend to shorten her stay at Copse Hall. A sense of keen sorrow pervaded her at such a prospect—at a time too when it seemed that she had found a haven of peace, where she might bear the sorrows of the past; and as Mrs Brandon left the room, she sank down in her chair, and covered her face with her hands.
There was a smile upon Mrs Brandon’s countenance as she entered the breakfast-room, to find Max busy before a glass, battling with a recalcitrant stud.
Most men would have been slightly confused on being found in such a position; but not so Max. He turned round slowly, displaying the manifold perfections of his exquisite toilet, smiled, showed his fine white teeth and pearl-grey gloves, and then advanced and placed a chair for Mrs Brandon, taking the one to which he was waved by the lady of the house, who was still smiling.
“Charming weather, is it not?” said Max in his most fascinating tones, as he caressed one whisker, and placed boot number one a little farther out in front, so that the fit might be observed. “Pleasure of addressing Mrs Brandon, I presume?”
Mrs Brandon bowed.