"We desired none of these things," he said. "Florence has known a great sorrow, too recently to allow of her entering into the spirit of such festivities as you speak of. The one thing we both wish for is a welcome from yourself. To some extent we can command it from all beside."
It was proverbial of Lady Longridge that she would indulge her temper at any cost of discomfort to others, but that self-interest would induce her to subdue all outward sign of anger. She would not forget her grievance, but she would bide her time. Her son's last words brought certain unpalatable facts to mind and effected a change in her manner. He was master of Northbrook Hall, and, if he willed it, she must give up the place of mistress to his wife. Quick as lightning the thought flashed through her mind, "Philip has never cared to live here. Is it likely that marriage will entirely change his habits, and that he who has been wandering the world over for more than half his life will settle down to the dull life of a country gentleman? I may remain mistress of the Hall to the end of the chapter."
Aloud, Lady Longridge said, but in softened tones, "I think, Philip, you must admit that I have cause for displeasure. That your mother should know nothing of your marriage until you brought your wife under the roof to which she herself came, a bride in all honour, five-and-forty years ago, shows scant courtesy in an only son. But you are master here, and we must try to make up for the want of a more formal welcome as best we may."
She extended her hand, which her son took, and once again he would have urged his wife forward. The latter, however, gave one terrified glance at Lady Longridge's face, then turned away, and clinging to her husband cried out, "Take me away, Philip. I care not where we go, but do not let us stay here. I thought I should find a mother in yours."
It was vain to attempt to bring the two together. The lovely, fair young wife, a bride of less than a month, was dressed in mourning, which betokened recent bereavement.
It was evident that she was ill-fitted to bear the trial of such a meeting, when she had hoped for a genuine homecoming, and to find a mother in Lady Longridge. But the sight of that tall figure, with its clasped hands, the look of dislike shot from the keen black eyes, together with the mocking words, so startled the girl, that she was terrified into the display of feeling already described, and which added greatly to the uneasiness of her husband.
There was nothing left for him but to lead his weeping wife to the room always kept in readiness for his reception, and to comfort her as best he might, until, wearied with her long journey and all she had gone through, she slept like a tired child.
There were servants enough to minister to the bodily wants of the pair, and, amongst others, Susan Thorley, my lady's own maid, and at that time sixteen years younger than she is represented at the beginning of this chapter, was sent to offer her aid, and "Mind you find out everything you can about the girl," said her mistress, as she sent her on the former errand.