"May I take up five minutes of Mr. Lindsay's time to explain, perhaps to apologize," said John, slightly smiling, "for what I have said?"
A little ashamed, it might be, to have his feeling suspected, Mr. Lindsay instantly granted the request, and politely invited his unwelcome guest to be seated. Obeying a glance from her brother which she understood, Ellen withdrew to the further side of the room, where she could not hear what they said. John took up the history of Ellen's acquaintness with his family, and briefly gave it to Mr. Lindsay, scarce touching on the benefits by them conferred on her, and skilfully dwelling rather on Ellen herself, and setting forth what she had been to them. Mr. Lindsay could not be unconscious of what his visitor delicately omitted to hint at, neither could he help making secretly to himself some most unwilling admissions; and though he might wish the speaker at the antipodes, and doubtless did, yet the sketch was too happily given, and his fondness for Ellen too great, for him not to be delightedly interested in what was said of her. And however strong might have been his desire to dismiss his guest in a very summary manner, or to treat him with haughty reserve, the graceful dignity of Mr. Humphreys' manners made either expedient impossible. Mr. Lindsay felt constrained to meet him on his own ground the ground of high-bred frankness, and grew secretly still more afraid that his real feelings should be discerned.
Ellen, from afar, where she could not hear the words, watched the countenances with great anxiety, and great admiration. She could see that while her brother spoke with his usual perfect ease, Mr. Lindsay was embarrassed. She half-read the truth. She saw the entire politeness where she also saw the secret discomposure, and she felt that the politeness was forced from him. As the conversation went on, however, she wonderingly saw that the cloud on his brow lessened she saw him even smile; and when at last they rose, and she drew near, she almost thought her ears were playing her false, when she heard Mr. Lindsay beg her brother to go in with him to the company, and be presented to Mrs. Lindsay. After a moment's hesitation this invitation was accepted, and they went together into the drawing-room.
Ellen felt as if she was in a dream. With a face as grave as usual, but with an inward exultation and rejoicing in her brother, impossible to describe, she saw him going about among the company, talking to her grandmother; yes, and her grandmother did not look less pleasant than usual, recognising M. Muller, and in conversation with other people whom he knew. With indescribable glee, Ellen saw that Mr. Lindsay managed most of the time to be of the same group. Never more than that night did she triumphantly think that Mr. John could do anything. He finished the evening there. Ellen took care not to seem too much occupied with him; but she contrived to be near when he was talking with M. Muller, and to hang upon her father's arm when he was in Mr. John's neighbourhood. And when the latter had taken leave, and was in the hall, Ellen was there before he could be gone. And there came Mr. Lindsay too, behind her.
"You will come early to-morrow morning, John?"
"Come to breakfast, Mr. Humphreys, will you?" said Mr.
Lindsay, with sufficient cordiality.
But Mr. Humphreys declined his invitation, in spite of the timid touch of Ellen's fingers upon his arm, which begged for a different answer.
"I will be with you early, Ellie," he said, however.
"And oh! John," said Ellen, suddenly, "order a horse, and let us have one ride together; let me show you Edinburgh."
"By all means," said Mr. Lindsay, "let us show you Edinburgh; but order no horses, Mr. Humphreys, for mine are at your service."