"Lady Elizabeth Macdonnell," announced the footman; and the privy council was ended.
Colonel Dashwood made his appearance, at the proper hour for visiting, the next morning, and very much rejoiced was Kate to welcome him; he reminded her of much that was sad, 'tis true, but of sadness untinged by any bitter; and then, she had, since the day before, been haunted by the image of Fred Egerton, as he lay, pale and helpless, on a blue chintz sofa, in Mr. Winter's drawing-room, which was the latest, and clearest memory connected with Colonel Dashwood.
The conversation was, at first, rather constrained, the mind of both the visitor and visited being full of thoughts they feared to broach—Kate dreaded, yet longed to speak of her grandfather—she feared a rush of tears, that might embarrass her kind and pleasant acquaintance, but her candid, real nature, soon helped her out of the difficulty. Dashwood spoke in terms of cordial and judicious praise of the kind old man; Kate listened with delight, and told him of her happiness with her cousin, to whom she longed to present him, and felt more intimate with the gay, high-bred dragoon, than she had ever felt before.
"You remember Egerton, at A——, Miss Vernon?"
"Oh, yes, I wished to ask you about him."
"He has just been Gazetted Lieutenant Colonel of the —th Lancers, you have heard, of course, he distinguished himself greatly, at ——."
"Yes, he wrote to dear grandpapa; we got the letter scarcely a week before—" she turned aside to hide the tears that would roll down her cheek, in spite of all her efforts to restrain them. "If you should write to Captain—Colonel Egerton, I mean, pray tell him, stern was the summons that prevented a reply to his kind letter, he will be sorry to hear of my irreparable loss."
"Colonel Vernon had not a warmer admirer in the world, than Fred Egerton," cried Dashwood. "Indeed Fred was just the sort of fellow to appreciate him. Well, good morning, Miss Vernon, I am most happy to have seen you, and hope you will allow me to call occasionally, while I am here."
The Monday specified by Lady Desmond, as the day on which she would receive Lord Effingham, was anticipated by Kate with some anxiety, and no small degree of curiosity. She wished to see on what terms her cousin and her admirer would meet, if any quarrel had been at the bottom of Lady Desmond's indisposition; and if the Earl was really apprehensive of one arising out of her report of his conversation in the Palace-garden.
Lady Desmond had certainly, not resented her information, for never had Kate seen her so gentle, so loving, and so considerate. They took long drives together, in the balmy summer evenings, sometimes enjoying the exquisite, dewy, perfumed air, and rich cultivated scenery in sympathic silence, sometimes recalling past summer evenings, to each other, and talking at intervals of the past.