Mr. Ridsdale had never seen anything so near excitement in his aunt’s manner before. She spoke with little movements of her hands and of her head, and a pink flush was on her usually colourless face. The sight of this little flutter and commotion which he had caused amused the young man. Jeremie was still moving noiselessly about, letting down a loop of curtain, kindling a distant corner into visibility by lighting one of the groups of candles upon the wall. The room was still very dim, just made visible, not much more, and Jeremie’s noiseless presence did not check the expression of Lady Caroline’s sentiments. She made her little explanation with a fervour such as, we have said, her nephew had never before seen in her. He was greatly astonished, but he was also, it must be allowed, somewhat disposed to laugh.
“You must pardon me,” he said, “for suggesting anything you don’t like, Aunt Caroline. But did not Augusta have Miss Despard here?”
“Oh, yes—with the rest of her people who sang. Augusta was always having her singing people—who were not in our set at all.”
“I suppose that is all over now,” said Rollo in a tone of regret.
“Oh, not quite over. Mrs. Long brought some of them the other day. She thought it would amuse me. But it never amused me much,” said Lady Caroline. “Augusta was pleased, and that was all. I don’t want them, Rollo; they disturb me. They require to have tea made for them, and compliments. I am not so very fond of music, you are aware.”
“I know; not fond enough to give up anything for it; but confess it is often a resource after dinner, when the people are dull?”
“The people are always just the same, Rollo. If they have a good dinner, that is all I have to do with them. They ought to amuse themselves.”
“Yes, yes,” he resumed, laughing. “I know you are never dull, Aunt Caroline. Your thoughts flow always in the same gentle current. You are never excited, and you are never bored.”
A gentle smile came over Lady Caroline’s face; no one understood her so well. She was astonished that so many people found fault with Rollo. He was, she thought, her favourite nephew, if it was right to have a favourite. “It is no credit to me,” she said. “I was always brought up in that way. But girls do not have such a good training now.”
“No, indeed—the very reverse, I think—they are either in a whirl of amusement or else they are bored. But, Aunt Caroline, people in general are not like you. And for us who have not had the advantage of your education, it is often very dull, especially after dinner. Now you are going to have a gathering to-morrow. Don’t you think it would be a good thing to have a little music in the evening, and ask Miss Despard to come and sing? Have her to amuse the people, just as you might have Punch and Judy, you know, or some of the sleight-of-hand men?”