'A new present from Mark Wylder,' thought Lady Chelford, as these objects met her keen glance. 'The unceremonious bridegroom has, I suppose, found his way back with a peace-offering in his hand.' And she actually peered through her spectacles into the now darkened corners of the chamber, half expecting to discover the truant Wylder awaiting there the lecture she was well prepared to give him; but the square form and black whiskers of the prodigal son were not discernible there.
'So, so, something new, and very elegant and pretty,' said the old lady aloud, holding her head high, and looking as if she were disposed to be propitiated. 'I think I can risk a conjecture. Mr. Wylder is about to reappear, and has despatched these heralds of his approach, no doubt suitably freighted, to plead for his reacceptance into favour. You have heard, then, from Mr. Wylder, my dear Dorcas?'
'No, Lady Chelford,' said the young lady with a grave serenity, turning her head leisurely towards her.
'No? Oh, then where is my son? He, perhaps, can explain; and pray, my dear, what are these?'
'These caskets contain the jewels which Mr. Wylder gave me about six weeks since. I had intended restoring them to him; but as his return is delayed, I mean to place them in Chelford's hands; because I have made up my mind, a week ago, to put an end to this odious engagement. It is all over.'
Lady Chelford stared at the audacious young lady with a look of incensed amazement for some seconds, unable to speak.
'Upon my word, young lady! vastly fine and independent! You chasser Mr. Wylder without one moment's notice, and without deigning to consult me, or any other person capable of advising you. You are about to commit as gross and indelicate a breach of faith as I recollect anywhere to have heard of. What will be thought?—what will the world say?—what will your friends say? Will you be good enough to explain yourself? I'll not undertake your excuses, I promise you.'
'Excuses! I don't think of excuses, Lady Chelford; no person living has a right to demand one.'
'Very tragic, young lady, and quite charming!' sneered the dowager angrily.
'Neither one nor the other, I venture to think; but quite true, Lady
Chelford,' answered Miss Brandon, haughtily.