Richmond's brow darkened.
"Georgia!" he said, coldly.
"Perhaps it is because I have not become accustomed to my new position. Any one suddenly raised from one sphere of life to another diametrically opposite, must feel strange and out of place. Why, Richmond," she said, smiling, "I am not even accustomed to that grand little housekeeper of yours yet. Her cold, stately magnificence overwhelms me. When she comes to me for orders, I fairly blush, and have to look at my diamonds and silks, and recollect I am Mrs. Wildair, of Richmond House, to keep my dignity. It is rather uncomfortable, all this; but time, that works wonders, will, I have no doubt, make me as stiff, and solemn, and sublimely grand, as even—Mrs. Hamm."
His face wore no answering smile; he was very grave.
"You are not angry, Richmond?" she said, deprecatingly.
"Not angry, Georgia, but annoyed. I do not like this state of things. My wife must be self-possessed and lady-like as well as handsome. You must lose this country girl awkwardness, and learn to move easily and gracefully in your new sphere. You must learn to sit at the head of my table, and do the honors of my house as becomes one whom I have seen fit to raise to the position of my wife."
"Raise!" exclaimed Georgia, with one of her old flashes, and a haughty lift of her head.
"In a worldly point of view, I mean. Physically, mentally, and morally, you are my equal; but in the eyes of the world, I have made a mesalliance; and that world whose authority I have spurned is malicious enough to witness with delight your rustic shyness, to call it by no more mortifying name. Georgia, I knew from the moment I first presented you to my mother that this explanation must come; but, knowing your high spirit, I had too much affection for you to speak of it sooner, and if I wound your feelings now, believe me, it is to make you happier afterward. You are too impulsive, and have not dissimulation enough, Georgia; your open and unconcealed dislike for some of those you met in town made you many enemies—did you know it?"
"Yes, I knew it; and this enmity was more acceptable to me than their friendship!" flashed Georgia.
"But not to me. It is better to have a dog fawn on you than bark at you, Georgia. I do not say to you to like them, but you might have concealed your dislike. A smile and courteous word costs little, and it might have saved you many a bitter sneer."