Nothing increases wrath like having no object to expend it on; and madam foiled, might have sat for a picture of fury. The passion that had been bubbling higher and higher all the way from Paris, found no escape at boiling point.
One of the servants happened to come in her way; the first housemaid, who had been head over Molly Green. Madam stopped her; bit her lips for calmness, and then inquired particulars of the wedding with a smooth face.
"Was it a runaway match, Lake?"
"Goodness, no, madam!" was Lake's answer, who was apt to be outspoken, even to her imperious mistress. "Things were being got ready for a month beforehand; and my master would have gone to church to give Miss Bessy away himself, but for not being well. All us servants went to see it."
Little by little, madam heard every detail. Captain Bohun was best man; Mr. Richard took out Miss Adair, who was bridesmaid, and looked lovely. The bride and bridegroom drove right away from the church-door. Captain Bohun went back in the carriage with Miss Adair; Mr. Richard went off on foot to the works. Miss Bessy--leastways Mrs. Oliver Rane now--had had some furniture sent to her new home from the Hall, and Molly Green was there as housemaid. That Lake should glow with intense gratification at being enabled to tell all this, was only in accordance with frail humanity: she knew what a dose it was for madam; and madam was disliked in the household more than poison. But Lake was hardly prepared for the ashy, tint that spread over madam's features, when she came to the part that told of the homeward drive of her son with Ellen Adair.
The girl was in the midst of her descriptions when Arthur Bohun came in. Madam saw him sauntering lazily up the gravel-drive, and swept down in her fine Parisian costume of white-and-black brocaded silk, lappets of lace floating from her hair. They met in the Hall.
"Why! is it you, mother?" cried Arthur in surprise--for he had no idea the invasion might be expected so soon. "Have you come home?"
He advanced to kiss her. Striving to be as dutiful as she would allow him to be, he was willing to observe all ordinary relations between mother and son: but of affection there existed none. Mrs. North drew back from the offered embrace, and haughtily motioned him to the drawing-room. Matilda sat there, sullen and listless: she was angry at being brought away summarily from Paris.
"Why did I assist at Bessy's wedding?" replied Arthur, parrying the attack with light good humour, as he invariably strove to do on these occasions. "Because I liked it. It was great fun. Especially to see Rane hunting in every pocket for the ring, and turning as red as a salamander."
"What business had you to do such a thing?" retorted madam, her face dark with the passion she was suppressing. "How dared you do it?"