"For your offence, dear girl! and what is that? Think not of it. I go to remove your fears and seal our happiness!"
With these and similar words of confidence and hope, the youth departed on his errand. Not without some misgiving and apprehension, however, did he present himself at that door which heretofore had flown open at his approach, always offering to his view the forms of obsequious lackeys, only too willing to anticipate his pleasure. The establishment of Lord Railton in a striking manner represented the sentiments and feelings of the noble proprietor. There was not a servant in the house who did not know, and that most accurately, the opinions, public and private, of "my lord," and the relative regard he had for all who approached his noble person, and who, moreover, did not give evidence of this knowledge in his conduct towards mankind. A stranger might have formed a just opinion of the influence of a visitor by simply remarking the bearing of Mister Brown the butler, as he ushered that visitor into the sublime presence. Smiles of welcome—a sweet relaxation of the features—greeted "the favoured guest;" cold rigidity, withering politeness, if not the stern expression of rebuke itself, were the undisguised acknowledgments of one who was "a bore" in his lordship's study, and consequently "a rejected" in the steward's room. During the boyhood of Rupert Sinclair, and whilst his mamma was known to be affectionately disposed to spoil her offspring by every kind of cruel indulgence, the regard entertained for the young scion, from Mister Brown downwards, was beautiful to contemplate. If he appeared in the hall, one sickening and hollow smile pervaded the cheeks of every individual; the tongue that was still wet with slander and abuse, became, as if by magic, sugary with choice phrases; and not a soul of all the lying crew, but sought to surpass the rest by the profuseness of its palpable and unmeaning flattery. Rupert Sinclair, worldly wise though he was not, would have been stolid indeed had he not gathered from the porter's air something of the reception that awaited him from his offended sire, when the wide portal opened to receive the unforgiven prodigal.
"His lordship?"——began Rupert inquiringly.
"Not at home, sir," said the flunkey, with all imaginable coolness interrupting him.
"Lady Railton?"
"Not at home, sir."
"She is in town?"
"In town, sir?—yes, sir."
"I will wait," said Sinclair, moving towards the inner hall.
He had not spoken before the porter pulled with all his might at a bell-wire that communicated with the steward's room. As though the signals were preconcerted, Mister Brown was in the hall in no time, and confronting the intruder upon the thresh-hold of the sanctuary. "I beg your pardon, Mr Sinclair," said Mister Brown, half respectfully, half confidentially. "Lord Railton is particularly engaged this morning, and has given orders to that effect. It is the painfulest thing to communicate, but I am but an agent."