Part 15 (2/2)
”An awful twinge, child. There, go along; talking makes me worse.”
”Papa, shall I stay at home with you?” she gravely asked. ”Every consideration should give way to illness. If you would like me to remain, or if I can do any good, pray let me.”
”Quite the contrary; I had rather you were away. You can do no earthly good, for I could not have you in the room. Good-bye, darling. If you see Carlyle, tell him I shall hope to see him to-morrow.”
The room was partly full when Mrs. Ducie, her two daughters, and Lady Isabel entered, and were conducted to seats by Mr. Kane--seats he had reserved for them at the upper end, near the orchestra. The same dazzling vision which had burst on the sight of Lord Mount Severn fell on that of the audience, in Isabel, with her rich, white dress, her glittering diamonds, her flowing curls, and her wondrous beauty. The Misses Ducie, plain girls, in brown silks, turned up their noses worse than nature had done it for them, and Mrs. Ducie heaved an audible sigh.
”The poor motherless girl is to be pitied, my dears,” she whispered; ”she has n.o.body to point out to her suitable attire. This ridiculous decking out must have been Marvel's doings.”
But she looked like a lily among poppies and sunflowers whether the ”decking out” was ridiculous or not. Was Lord Mount Severn right, when he accused her of dressing so in self-gratification? Very likely, for has not the great preacher said that childhood and youth are vanity?
Miss Carlyle, the justice, and Barbara also had seats near the orchestra; for Miss Carlyle, in West Lynne, was a person to be considered, and not hidden behind others. Mr. Carlyle, however, preferred to join the gentlemen who congregated and stood round about the door inside and out. There was scarcely standing room in the place; Mr. Kane had, as was antic.i.p.ated, got a b.u.mper, and the poor man could have wors.h.i.+pped Lady Isabel, for he knew he owed it to her.
It was very long--country concerts generally are--and was about three parts over when a powdered head, larger than any cauliflower ever grown, was discerned ascending the stairs, behind the group of gentlemen; which head, when it brought its body in full view, was discovered to belong to one of the footmen of Lord Mount Severn. The calves alone, cased in their silk stockings, were a sight to be seen; and these calves betook themselves inside the concert room, with a deprecatory bow for permission to the gentlemen they had to steer through--and there they came to a standstill, the cauliflower extending forward and turning itself about from right to left.
”Well, I'll be jiffled!” cried an astonished old fox-hunter, who had been elbowed by the footman; ”the cheek these fellows have!”
The fellow in question did not appear, however, to be enjoying any great amount of cheek just at that moment, for he looked perplexed, humble and uneasy. Suddenly his eye fell upon Mr. Carlyle, and it lighted up.
”Beg pardon, sir; could you happen to inform me where-abouts my young lady is sitting?”
”At the other end of the room, near the orchestra.”
”I'm sure I don't know however I am to get to her, then,” returned the man more in self-soliloquy than to Mr. Carlyle. ”The room is choke full, and I don't like crus.h.i.+ng by. My lord is taken alarmingly worse, sir,”
he explained in an awe-stricken tone; ”it is feared he is dying.”
Mr. Carlyle was painfully startled.
”His screams of pain were awful, sir. Mr. Wainwright and another doctor from West Lynne are with him, and an express has gone to Lynneboro' for physicians. Mrs. Mason said we were to fetch my young lady right home, and not lose a moment; and we brought the carriage, sir, Wells galloping his horses all the way.”
”I will bring Lady Isabel,” said Mr. Carlyle.
”I am sure, sir, I should be under everlasting obligations if you would,” returned the man.
He worked his way through the concert room--he was tall and slender-- many looking daggers at him, for a pathetic song was just then being given by a London lady. He disregarded all, and stood before Isabel.
”I thought you were not coming to speak to me to-night. Is it not a famous room? I am so pleased!”
”More than famous, Lady Isabel,” choosing his words, that they might not alarm her, ”Lord Mount Severn does not find himself so well, and he has sent the carriage for you.”
”Papa not so well!” she quickly exclaimed.
”Not quite. At any rate, he wishes you to go home. Will you allow me to pilot you through the room?”
”Oh, my dear, considerate papa!” she laughed. ”He fears I shall be weary, and would emanc.i.p.ate me before the time. Thank you, Mr. Carlyle, but I will wait till the conclusion.”
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