“She used to say also,” remarked Lucy Dudley, “that if Mr. Raidsford could only have foreseen how high he was to rise in the world, Mrs. Raidsford would probably now have been wife to some mechanic—cooking steaks for his one o’clock dinner, instead of being mistress of Moorlands, and having servants much more ladylike than herself under her. Bessie never was weary of mimicking Mrs. Raidsford.”
“Who was this clever young lady?” asked Mr. Stewart, for whom the very bitterness of such a speech had its peculiar charm.
“A cousin of ours,” Lucy answered.
“Married, or still eligible?” inquired the old bachelor.
Lucy did not reply; she looked at Heather, who, after a moment’s embarrassed pause, replied,—
“She was engaged to be married, when with us, last winter; but we have not heard from her since she left Berrie Down.”
“Some feminine quarrel,” thought Mr. Stewart; and, looking out over the sea, he laughed softly to himself at the idea that all women were alike,—that no two women could agree; that, let them be young or old, pretty or ugly, sweet or sour, they could still jangle and dispute like the veriest viragoes.
And yet, this Mrs. Dudley puzzled him: if she had a temper, she must, he thought, have it under wonderful control; if there were any evil in her, she must have an astonishing power of concealing its existence. To sisters and children, to friends and servants, she was alike, gentle and forbearing. Never but once did Mr. Stewart see her eyes darken, and her face flush under the influence of any strong emotion; and then it was a slight thing which caused the tell-tale blood to rush to brow, and cheek, and neck.
“I expect my niece, Mrs. Croft, to-morrow,” he said; “I am happy to think she will be able to make your acquaintance.”
Then there came that look, which was not quite pleasant, over Heather’s face,—that look which set Mr. Stewart marvelling as to “what could be up” between the two women? Not an early jealousy, he decided; for Mrs. Croft was many a year older than Mrs. Dudley. What could it be? He was an especially inquisitive old gentleman, as sharp and keen concerning matters of feeling, as he was about matters of business, and so he went on,—