They were admitted into the house by a town-bred and somewhat supercilious butler, and led through the hall to the drawing-room. This was an elegant apartment, furnished in the first style of fashion, but Miss Thane had no time to waste in admiring what were obviously quite up-to-date chairs and tables. Her attention was fixed anxiously upon the overmantel.
The Beau joined his guests in a very few minutes. If he felt any surprise at a somewhat vague engagement having been kept with such promptness, no trace of it appeared in his countenance. He greeted both ladies with his usual grace, feared they must have been chilled during their drive in such hard weather, and begged them to draw near the fire. Eustacie, whose cheeks were rosy where a nipping east wind had caught them, promptly complied with the suggestion, but Miss Thane was unable to tear herself from the contemplation of the overmantel. She stood well back from it, assuming a devout expression, and breathed: “ Such exquisite strap-and-jewel work! You did not tell me you had anything so fine, Mr Lavenham! I declare, I do not know how to take my eyes from it!”
“I believe it is considered to be a very good example, ma’am,” the Beau acknowledged. “The late Lord Lavenham was used to say it was finer than the one up at the Court, but I am afraid I am not a judge of such things.”
But this Miss Thane would not allow to be true. No protestations that he ‘could make succeeded in shaking her belief that it was his modesty which spoke. She launched forth into a sea of talk, in which Dutch influence, the style of the Renaissance, the inferiority of Flemish craftsmanship, and the singular beauty of the Gothic jostled one another like rudderless boats adrift in a whirlpool. From the overmantel she passed with scarcely a check to the pictures on the walls. She detected a De Hooge with unerring judgment, and was at once reminded of a few weeks spent in the Netherlands some years ago. Her reminiscences, recounted with a vivacious artlessness which made Eustacie stare at her in rapt admiration, were only put an end to by the Beau’s seizing the opportunity afforded by her pausing to take breath to propose that they should step into the dining-parlour for some refreshment.
The Beau opened the door for the ladies to pass out into the hall. Miss Thane went first, still chattering, leaving Eustacie to hang back for a moment, and to say in an urgent undertone to her cousin: “We came today because I have suddenly thought that perhaps you, who are very much of the world, could advise me. Only, you understand, I do not like to say anything before Sarah, because although she is extremely amiable, she is not, after all, of my family.”
He bowed. “I am always at your service, my dear cousin, even though I may be—surprised.”
“Surprised?” said Eustacie, with a look of childlike innocence.
“Well,” said the Beau softly, “you have not been precisely in the habit of seeking either my company or my advice, have you, ma chère?”
“Oh!” said Eustacie, brushing that aside with a flutter of her expressive little hands, “ quant a ça, when Grandpapa was alive I did not wish for anyone’s advice but his. But I find myself now in a situation of the most awkward.”
He looked at her with narrowed eyes, as though appraising her. “Yes, your situation is awkward,” he said. “I could show you how to end that.”