Durward bit his lip, and resolving never to compliment her again, walked on in silence at her side, while ’Lena, repenting of her hasty words, and desirous of making amends, exerted herself to be agreeable; and by the time the breakfast-bell rang, Durward mentally pronounced her “a perfect mystery,” which he would take delight in unraveling!
CHAPTER X.
MR. AND MRS. GRAHAM.
Breakfast had been some time over, when the roll of carriage wheels and a loud ring at the door, announced the arrival of Mr. Graham, who, true to his appointment with Durward, had come up to meet him, accompanied by Mrs. Graham. This lady, who could boast of having once been the bride of an English lord, to say nothing of belonging to the “very first family of Virginia,” was a sort of bugbear to Mrs. Livingstone, who, haughty and overbearing to her equals, was nevertheless cringing and cowardly in the presence of those whom she considered her superiors. Never having seen Mrs. Graham, her ideas concerning her were quite elevated, and now when she came unexpectedly, it quite overcame her. Unfortunately, too, she was this morning suffering from a nervous headache, the result of the excitement and late hours of the night before, and on learning that Mrs. Graham was in the parlor, she fell back in her rocking-chair, and between a groan and a sigh, declared her utter inability to see her at present, saying that Carrie must play the part of hostess until such time as she felt composed enough to undertake it.
“Oh, I can’t—I shan’t—that ends it!” said Carrie, who, though a good deal dressed on Durward’s account, still felt anxious to give a few more finishing touches to her toilet, and to see if her hair and complexion were all right, ere she ventured into the august presence ef her “mother-in-law elect,” as she confidently considered Mrs. Graham.
“Anna must go, then,” persisted Mrs. Livingstone, who knew full well how useless it would be to press Carrie farther. “Anna must go—where is she? Call her, ’Lena.”
But Anna was away over the fields, enjoying with Mr. Everett a walk which had been planned the night previous, and when ’Lena returned with the intelligence that she was nowhere to be found, her aunt in great distress exclaimed, “Mercy me! what will Mrs. Graham think—and Mr. Livingstone, too, keeps running back and forth for somebody to entertain her. What shall I do! I can’t go in looking so yellow and jaded as I now do!”
’Lena’s first thought was to bring her aunt’s powderball, as the surest way of remedying the yellow skin, but knowing that such an act would be deeply resented, she quickly repressed the idea, offering instead to go herself to the parlor.
“You! What could you say to her?” returned Mrs. Livingstone, to whom the proposition was not altogether displeasing.
“I can at least answer her questions,” returned ’Lena and after a moment her aunt consented, wondering the while how ’Lena, in her plain gingham wrapper and linen collar, could be willing to meet the fashionable Mrs. Graham.
“But then,” thought she, “she has so little sensibility, I don’t s’pose she cares! and why should she? Mrs. Graham will of course look upon her as only a little above a servant”—and with this complimentary reflection upon her niece, Mrs. Livingstone retired to her dressing-room, while ’Lena, with a beating heart and slightly heightened color, repaired to the parlor.