In the drawing-room Earl Verner found Miss Tallant and Miss Somerton. The former he had seen once before, the latter he now saw for the first time. Phœbe was attired in her ordinary morning style, and looked fresh and blooming as a rose, but with just a trace of languor in her manner which did not usually characterise it. Amy had astonished her friend immensely, only ten minutes previously, by suddenly entering the room in a favourite delicate white merino, and with unusual signs of care manifested in her toilette. Her appearance was worthy of that of a duchess. She looked like a queen in her own right. Her head never looked nobler; the graceful curves about her mouth and chin seemed to be full of sunshine and happiness; her eyes sparkled with unwonted brilliancy, and when Lord Verner entered he found it difficult to remove his eyes from the lady’s face.
“Pray, present me to your friend,” he said, after he had shaken hands with Miss Tallant, and without waiting to give Phœbe the voluntary opportunity of doing so.
Miss Tallant presented Amy accordingly, and his lordship was not displeased to see how sensibly his rank affected her. His rank? Might not his appearance have something to do with that faint blush and unmistakable embarrassment? The thought flashed through his lordship’s mind in an instant, and it flattered him. He grew quite affable, and insisted, in his grand way, upon sitting down and having a little chat.
“I am sorry,” he said to Miss Tallant, “to see your father so sensibly affected by late events; it really grieves me to the heart—such a fine business gentleman as he was, so full of energy and resource. I must call again and see him. I fear he is moping. You must cheer him up, Miss Somerton, you must bring your high spirits to bear upon the poor gentleman; he is quite downcast.”
“I fear we had best not interfere with him just now, your lordship; there are troubles which are better nursed and thought over. I hope Mr. Tallant will soon be well again,” said Amy, sweetly.
“Trouble ought to be quickly dispersed with such companionship as Mr. Tallant has in his daughter and yourself,” said Lord Verner, bent on paying Amy a compliment in return for her gracious looks.
“I fear me we scarcely understand all Mr. Tallant’s troubles just now, and perhaps he does not understand our sympathy and desire to console him. Your lordship is pleased to be complimentary; but there is little of woman’s society at Montem Castle, I have always heard, or you would understand how easy it may be to tire of it.”
“Ah, there you hit me, Miss Somerton; now really that is cruel. Because I am deserted by the ladies, because I am a mopish, cross-grained, old bachelor, you think I am a fitting target for your sarcasm. Well, well, be it so. At least I have not to bear any woman’s taunts and jests at my own hearth. Ha! ha!—there, there—I think that is one to me. Don’t you think so, Miss Tallant?” and his lordship laughed merrily at his own jocularity.
Phœbe smiled a little sadly, and with a puzzled look at Amy, who gave her no opportunity to reply, but raising her hand slightly to give point to her words, she said:—
“No, and your lordship has no woman’s sweet smiles at your fireside either, no chatty sympathising companion in pretty dresses to walk by your side, and talk to you about all manner of things in which you are interested; no cheery, pleasant womanly face at the head of your table making everything brighter about you. There—is not that one to me, as your lordship puts it?”