Lady Jocelyn felt with her husband, more than she chose to let him know, and Sir Franks could have burst into anathemas against fate and circumstances, more than his love of a smooth world permitted. He, however, was subdued by her calmness; and she, with ten times the weight of brain, was manoeuvred by the wonderful dash of General Rose Jocelyn. For her ladyship, thinking, “I shall get the blame of all this,” rather sided insensibly with the offenders against those who condemned them jointly; and seeing that Rose had been scrupulously honest and straightforward in a very delicate matter, this lady was so constituted that she could not but applaud her daughter in her heart. A worldly woman would have acted, if she had not thought, differently; but her ladyship was not a worldly woman.
Evan’s bearing and character had, during his residence at Beckley Court, become so thoroughly accepted as those of a gentleman, and one of their own rank, that, after an allusion to the origin of his breeding, not a word more was said by either of them on that topic. Besides, Rose had dignified him by her decided conduct.
By the time poor Sir Franks had read himself into tranquillity, Mrs. Shorne, who knew him well, and was determined that he should not enter upon his usual negociations with an unpleasantness: that is to say, to forget it, joined them in the library, bringing with her Sir John Loring and Hamilton Jocelyn. Her first measure was to compel Sir Franks to put down his book. Lady Jocelyn subsequently had to do the same.
“Well, what have you done, Franks?” said Mrs. Shorne.
“Done?” answered the poor gentleman. “What is there to be done? I’ve spoken to young Harrington.”
“Spoken to him! He deserves horsewhipping! Have you not told him to quit the house instantly?”
Lady Jocelyn came to her husband’s aid: “It wouldn’t do, I think, to kick him out. In the first place, he hasn’t deserved it.”
“Not deserved it, Emily!—the commonest, low, vile, adventuring tradesman!”
“In the second place,” pursued her ladyship, “it’s not adviseable to do anything that will make Rose enter into the young woman’s sublimities. It’s better not to let a lunatic see that you think him stark mad, and the same holds with young women afflicted with the love-mania. The sound of sense, even if they can’t understand it, flatters them so as to keep them within bounds. Otherwise you drive them into excesses best avoided.”
“Really, Emily,” said Mrs. Shorne, “you speak almost, one would say, as an advocate of such unions.”