Captain Gambier and Adela crossed their path. He spoke a passing word, Lady Charlotte returned no answer, and was silent to her companion for some minutes. Then she said, “If you feel any responsibility about this little person, take my advice, and don't let her have appointments and meetings. They're bad in any case, and for a girl who has no brother—has she? no:—well then, you should make the best provision you can against the cowardice of men. Most men are cowards.”
Emilia sang in the drawing-room. Brookfield knew perfectly why she looked indifferent to the plaudits, and was not dissatisfied at hearing Lady Gosstre say that she was a little below the mark. The kindly lady brought Emilia between herself and Mr. Powys, saying, “I don't intend to let you be the star of the evening and outshine us all.” After which, conversation commenced, and Brookfield had reason to admire her ladyship's practised play upon the social instrument, surely the grandest of all, the chords being men and women. Consider what an accomplishment this is!
Albeit Brookfield knew itself a student at Richford, Adela was of too impatient a wit to refrain from little ventures toward independence, if not rivalry. “What we do,” she uttered distinctively once or twice. Among other things she spoke of “our discovery,” to attest her declaration that, to wakeful eyes, neither Hillford nor any other place on earth was dull. Cornelia flushed at hearing the name of Mr. Barrett pronounced publicly by her sister.
“An organist an accomplished man!” Lady Gosstre repeated Adela's words. “Well, I suppose it is possible, but it rather upsets one's notions, does it not?”
“Yes, but agreeably,” said Adela, with boldness; and related how he had been introduced, and hinted that he was going to be patronized.
“The man cannot maintain himself on the income that sort of office brings him,” Lady Gosstre observed.
“Oh, no,” said Adela. “I fancy he does it simply for some sort of occupation. One cannot help imagining a disguise.”
“Personally I confess to an objection to gentlemen in disguise,” said Lady Gosstre. “Barrett!—do you know the man?”
She addressed Mr. Powys.
“There used to be good quartett evenings given by the Barretts of Bursey,” he said. “Sir Justinian Barrett married a Miss Purcell, who subsequently preferred the musical accomplishments of a foreign professor of the Art.”