"Of course," said the Comtesse Leinsengen contemptuously, "I am extremely sorry, mais il faut se consoler;" and turning, she glided away, but first whispered to Lady Tilney as she passed, "We shall have nothing now but this tiresome petite nouveauté;" and she shrugged her shoulders and departed.
"What is the matter with the comtesse?" asked the Duke of Mercington; "that air d'imperatrice enragée does not at all become her."
"No," replied Lady Glenmore, laughing, "I never knew any one that it did."
"Some persons," rejoined the duke, "some dark beauties, may look well under the effect of a storm, though I confess I had always rather see the lambent flame than the forked lightning;" and he looked his implied admiration of Lady Glenmore.
Lady Tilney did not know exactly what part to play in a scene where she felt she was not the principal, although it is said there have been times and seasons when she thought it politic to kiss even the foot of a person placed in a situation of imaginary greatness, and whose favour she forgot herself so far as to court. She had come, however, to Lady Glenmore with other views than either those of curiosity or congratulation. Lady Tilney felt, that in the situation which Lady Glenmore now held, she might with ease have led a party in society independent of Lady Tilney or any of her coterie; and a fear that she might take this step determined her on endeavouring, by counsel and an assumption of directing how Lady Glenmore should conduct herself in her station, to obtain in the first instance an influence over her, and hold her in subserviency to her own wishes regarding society. She saw, therefore, the Duke of Mercington and several others, who had come and gone on the same errand, take their leave with satisfaction, and seized the first moment when she was alone with Lady Glenmore to say:
"Now, my dear Lady Glenmore, you, I am sure, will believe, that of all who have paid their court to you on this happy event, there is no one more sincere than myself: but I will go a step further than any other of your friends, though perhaps I may be giving you offence; I would counsel, I would advise you; for yours, my dear Lady Glenmore, you will find to be a situation of some delicacy: there will be so many ready to take offence if you do not do all they ask or expect of you; and yet, you know, you must not compromettez yourself, nor our society; you must, in short, be discreet, and not too good-humoured. It will require great tact to please those whom I am sure you wish to please, and to give offence to none. Now Glenmore will be constantly engaged, and you cannot expect him to give due attention to these affaires de société. I really wish, that if ever you feel in any difficulty, you would consider me as your friend, always ready to serve you; apply to me, and I will give you my best advice: there are many, I know, who will be ready to do the same thing by you, but beware of those in whom you repose confidence. For instance, between ourselves, there is the Comtesse Leinsengen, who is very charming, very clever, but not sufficiently aware how our society must be constituted, as indeed no foreigners possibly can or ever will be, and not at all capable of guiding intricate points connected with it: and then, you know, she is diplomate by nature and art; she will of course endeavour to win you to an intimacy. At least, c'est son metiér. But again, I say, beware of this, or you will compromise Lord Glenmore as well as yourself. Against Lady Tenderden, too, though there is nobody I like better, you must also be upon your guard; for she is not altogether to be trusted, and she will betray your secrets from habit."
Lady Glenmore, who had, hitherto, listened to this long harangue in silence, and without showing any emotion, now looked a little surprised at this last caution given by Lady Tilney, for she remembered the opinion her husband had pronounced on Lady Tenderden; but still she said nothing. The expression, however, which played in her countenance, was not unobserved by Lady Tilney, as she added, "Oh, I know what you are thinking; Lady Tenderden is a great favourite with Lord Glenmore; but it's an old friendship, and now he is married, of course all that will be on another footing."
Lady Glenmore blushed, and felt the tears rising to her eyes, at the renewal of an insinuation respecting her husband, which had once before cost her much acute pain. Lady Tilney did not choose to observe the effect which she saw her words had produced on the innocent Lady Glenmore, and proceeded to object, in rotation, to every one whom she thought might become powerful rivals in her influence over her. Then, having proceeded to discuss every point political and influential in society, and having persuaded Lady Glenmore to fix an early day for a cercle choisie at her house, and canvassed the pretensions of the persons who were to be allowed to form it, she at length took her departure, leaving Lady Glenmore perfectly overcome with the torrent of eloquence and advice which she had so gratuitously given.
While these empty insincerities, these crooked policies of polite life, had been passing under Lady Glenmore's roof, and while Lord Albert D'Esterre was busied in the graver but perhaps not less intricate and deceptive details of public affairs, the realities of whose endless mazes he had that morning for the first time entered upon, Lady Dunmelraise, in a far different scene, and on a far other occasion, was preparing for one of the most painful tasks that duty demands of true affection; that of probing the breast of a beloved object, with the moral certainty of its being right so to do, in the hope of protecting it from yet more cruel wounds. These are the heroisms of private life, which pass unknown and unhonoured by the world, although they are noted elsewhere, and are of frequent occurrence in the annals of daily existence; and it was under the pressure of this painful determination that Lady Dunmelraise passed a sleepless night, endeavouring to prepare herself for to-morrow's duty.
When she met her daughter at breakfast, her pale and altered countenance half spoke the nature of her intended counsel before she gave it utterance. Lady Adeline's own feelings were too much in accordance with her mother's, for her not to read the cause of the expression she saw painted on her face; and although she had forced herself to leave her apartment, and to appear at the usual hour, and even endeavoured to wear her own placid smile, in order not to give Lady Dunmelraise unnecessary anxiety, still the very endeavour betrayed the real state of her heart. The business of the breakfast passed mechanically and in silence, with the exception of an interchange of those few kindly monosyllables which convinced them mutually of the participation each took in the other's anguish; and while Lady Adeline was trying to suppress starting tears, Lady Dunmelraise determined to break this cruel silence, and without preamble to come at once to the subject.