Finally Law was sent upstairs with an urgent demand for her presence.
“They’ve gone to tea,” said Law, knocking at her door; and then he added, in a low tone, “Open, Lottie. I want to speak to you. I have got lots to say to you.”
She heard him, but she did not attach any meaning to his words. What he said to her on the night before had left no definite impression on her mind. Law had lost his sister, who thought of him above all. In the midst of a pressing crisis in our own individual life, which of us has time to think of others? She was afraid to talk to Law, afraid to betray herself. Love made Lottie selfish and self-absorbed, a consequence just as apt to follow as any other. She was afraid of betraying herself to him; her mind was too full of this wonderful revolution in her own life to be able to take in Law’s desire, on his side, not to know about her, but to expound himself. She came out upon him hastily, and brushed past him, saying, “I am ready.” She did not think of Law, not even when he followed her, grumbling and murmuring—“I told you I wanted to speak to you.” How difficult it is to realise the wants of another when one’s heart is full of one’s own concerns! Neither brother nor sister had room in their minds for anything but the momentous event in their respective lives which was coming; but Law was aggrieved, for he had always hitherto possessed Lottie’s sympathy as a chattel of his own.
Polly and the Captain were seated at table when the two younger members of the family went in, and never had Captain Despard been more dignified or genial. “Lottie, my child, a bit of the breast,” he said—“a delicate bit just fit for a lady. I’ve saved it up for you, though you are late. You are very late; but for once in a way we will make allowances, especially as Mrs. Despard is not offended, but takes your side.”
“Oh, I know,” said Polly, “I am not one as is hard upon natural feelings. Pride I can’t abide, nor stuck-up ways, but when it comes to keeping company——”
“Is anyone keeping company with Lottie?” said Law, looking up fiercely; and then the elder pair laughed.
“But, my love, it is not a phrase that is used in good society,” the Captain said.
“Oh, bother good society!” said Polly. She was in an exuberant mood, and beyond the influence of that little topdressing of too transparent pretence with which occasionally she attempted to impose upon her step-children. Lottie, in whose mind indignation and disgust gradually overcame the previous self-absorption, listened to every word, unable to escape from the chatter she hated, with that keen interest of dislike and impatience which is more enthralling than affection; but she scarcely ventured to raise her eyes, and kept herself rigidly on her guard lest any rash word should betray her. It was not till the meal was over that she was brought to actual proof. Then her father detained her as she was about to escape. Law, more impatient than ever with the pressure of his own affairs, which it seemed impossible to find any opportunity of confiding to his sister, had got up at once and gone out. The Captain threw out his chest majestically and waved his hand as Lottie was about to follow.
“My child, I have got something to say to you,” he said.
Mrs. Despard was standing by the fire, warming herself with frank ease, with a good ankle well displayed. Lottie, on her way to the door, unwillingly arrested, stood still because she could not help it. But the Captain occupied with majesty his seat at the foot of the table between his wife and his daughter. “My love,” he said, with his favourite gesture, throwing back his well-developed shoulders, “I have every faith in my daughter, and Mr. Ridsdale is in every way quite satisfactory. Your family is as good as his, but my Lord Courtland’s son is not one to be turned away from any door; and as you have no fortune, Lottie, I should not be exacting as to settlements. I suppose he knows that you have no fortune, my dear?”