It was tolerably late when the visitors went away—half-past six, within an hour of dinner. The ladies were the last to go, as they had been the first to come; and Cara, relieved by the departure of the almost last stranger, drew timidly near the fire, when Mrs. Meredith called her. It was only as she approached—and the girl felt cold, sitting so far off and being so secondary, which is a thing that makes everybody chilly—that she perceived somebody remaining, a gentleman seated in an easy-chair—an old gentleman (according to Cara; he was not of that opinion himself), who had kept his place calmly for a long time without budging, whosoever went or came.
‘Well, you have got through the heavy work,’ said this patient visitor, ‘and I hope you have sent them off happier. It has not been your fault, I am sure, if they are not happier; they have each had their audience and their appropriate word.’
‘You always laugh at me, Mr. Somerville: why should I not say what I think they will like best to the people who come to see me?’
‘Ah, when you put it like that!’ he said; ‘certainly, why shouldn’t you? But I think some of those good people thought that you gave them beautiful advice and consolation, didn’t you? I thought it seemed like that as I looked on.’
‘You are always so severe. Come, my darling, you are out of sight there; come and smooth down this mentor of mine by the sight of your young face. This is my neighbour’s child, Miss Beresford, from next door.’
‘Ah, the neighbour!’ said Mr. Somerville, with a slight emphasis, and then he got up somewhat stiffly and made Cara his bow. ‘Does not he come for his daily bread like the rest?’ he said, in an undertone.
‘Mr. Beresford is going to dine with me to-night, with Cara, who has just come home,’ said Mrs. Meredith, with a slight shade of embarrassment on her face.
‘Ah! from school?’ said this disagreeable old man.
It had grown dark, and the lady herself had lighted the candles on the mantelpiece. He was sitting immediately under a little group of lights in a florid branched candlestick, which threw a glow upon his baldness. Cara, unfavourably disposed, thought there was a sneer instead of a smile upon his face, which was partially in shade.
‘I have never been to school,’ said the girl, unreasonably angry at the imputation; and just then someone else came in—another gentleman, with whom Mrs. Meredith, who had advanced to meet him, lingered near the door. Mr. Somerville watched over Cara’s head, and certainly his smile had more amusement than benevolence in it.