Nat, who was not always spoken to by so gentle a voice, smiled, bowed, and was retiring, when Miss Hodges came forward with an air of defiance: “Aristocratic insolence!” exclaimed she: “Stop, Nat—stir not a foot, at your peril, at the word of command of any of the privileged orders upon earth—stir not a foot, at your peril, at the behest of any titled She in the universe!—Madam, or my lady—or by whatever other name more high, more low, you choose to be addressed—this is my husband.”
“Very probably, madam,” said Lady Frances, with an easy calmness, which provoked Miss Hodges to a louder tone of indignation.
“Stir not a foot, at your peril, Nat,” cried she. “I will defend him, I say, madam, against every shadow, every penumbra of aristocratic insolence.”
“As you and he think proper, madam,” replied Lady Frances. “‘Tis easy to defend the gentleman against shadows.”
Miss Hodges marched up and down the room with her arms folded. Nat stood stock still.
“The woman,” whispered Lady Frances to Miss Warwick, “is either mad or drunk—or both; at all events we shall be better in another room.” As she spoke, she drew Miss Warwick’s arm within hers.—“Will you allow aristocratic insolence to pass by you, sir?” said she to Nat Gazabo, who stood like a statue in the doorway—he edged himself aside.
“And is this your independence of soul, my Angelina?” cried Araminta, setting her back to the door, so as effectually to prevent her from passing—“and is this your independence of soul, my Angelina—thus, thus tamely to submit, to resign yourself again to your unfeeling, proud, prejudiced, intellect-lacking persecutors?”
“This lady is my friend, madam,” said Angelina, in as firm and tranquil a tone as she could command, for she was quite terrified by her Araminta’s violence.
“Take your choice, my dear; stay or follow me, as you think best,” said Lady Frances.
“Your friend!” pursued the oratorical lady, detaining Miss Warwick with a heavy hand: “Do you feel the force of the word? Can you feel it, as I once thought you could? Your friend! am not I your friend, your best friend, my Angelina? your own Araminta, your amiable Araminta, your unknown friend?”