Part 16 (2/2)

”After what I have already told you, Sir Patrick, of Miss Silvester's conduct, may I ask whether you consider _that_ proceeding at all extraordinary?”

The old gentleman touched the spring in the k.n.o.b of his cane, and answered, in the courtly manner of the old school:

”I consider no proceeding extraordinary Lady Lundie, which emanates from your enchanting s.e.x.”

He bowed, and took his pinch. With a little jaunty flourish of the hand, he dusted the stray grains of snuff off his finger and thumb, and looked back again at the lawn-party, and became more absorbed in the diversions of his young friends than ever.

Lady Lundie stood her ground, plainly determined to force a serious expression of opinion from her brother-in-law. Before she could speak again, Arnold and Blanche appeared together at the bottom of the steps.

”And when does the dancing begin?” inquired Sir Patrick, advancing to meet them, and looking as if he felt the deepest interest in a speedy settlement of the question.

”The very thing I was going to ask mamma,” returned Blanche. ”Is she in there with Anne? Is Anne better?”

Lady Lundie forthwith appeared, and took the answer to that inquiry on herself.

”Miss Silvester has retired to her room. Miss Silvester persists in being ill. Have you noticed, Sir Patrick, that these half-bred sort of people are almost invariably rude when they are ill?”

Blanche's bright face flushed up. ”If you think Anne a half-bred person, Lady Lundie, you stand alone in your opinion. My uncle doesn't agree with you, I'm sure.”

Sir Patrick's interest in the first quadrille became almost painful to see. ”_Do_ tell me, my dear, when _is_ the dancing going to begin?”

”The sooner the better,” interposed Lady Lundie; ”before Blanche picks another quarrel with me on the subject of Miss Silvester.”

Blanche looked at her uncle. ”Begin! begin! Don't lose time!” cried the ardent Sir Patrick, pointing toward the house with his cane. ”Certainly, uncle! Any thing that _you_ wis.h.!.+” With that parting shot at her step-mother, Blanche withdrew. Arnold, who had thus far waited in silence at the foot of the steps, looked appealingly at Sir Patrick. The train which was to take him to his newly inherited property would start in less than an hour; and he had not presented himself to Blanche's guardian in the character of Blanche's suitor yet! Sir Patrick's indifference to all domestic claims on him--claims of persons who loved, and claims of persons who hated, it didn't matter which--remained perfectly una.s.sailable. There he stood, poised on his cane, humming an old Scotch air. And there was Lady Lundie, resolute not to leave him till he had seen the governess with _her_ eyes and judged the governess with _her_ mind. She returned to the charge--in spite of Sir Patrick, humming at the top of the steps, and of Arnold, waiting at the bottom.

(Her enemies said, ”No wonder poor Sir Thomas died in a few months after his marriage!” And, oh dear me, our enemies _are_ sometimes right!)

”I must once more remind you, Sir Patrick, that I have serious reason to doubt whether Miss Silvester is a fit companion for Blanche. My governess has something on her mind. She has fits of crying in private.

She is up and walking about her room when she ought to be asleep. She posts her own letters--_and,_ she has lately been excessively insolent to Me. There is something wrong. I must take some steps in the matter--and it is only proper that I should do so with your sanction, as head of the family.”

”Consider me as abdicating my position, Lady Lundie, in your favor.”

”Sir Patrick, I beg you to observe that I am speaking seriously, and that I expect a serious reply.”

”My good lady, ask me for any thing else and it is at your service. I have not made a serious reply since I gave up practice at the Scottish Bar. At my age,” added Sir Patrick, cunningly drifting into generalities, ”nothing is serious--except Indigestion. I say, with the philosopher, 'Life is a comedy to those who think, and tragedy to those who feel.'” He took his sister-in-law's hand, and kissed it. ”Dear Lady Lundie, why feel?”

Lady Lundie, who had never ”felt” in her life, appeared perversely determined to feel, on this occasion. She was offended--and she showed it plainly.

”When you are next called on, Sir Patrick, to judge of Miss Silvester's conduct,” she said, ”unless I am entirely mistaken, you will find yourself _compelled_ to consider it as something beyond a joke.” With those words, she walked out of the summer-house--and so forwarded Arnold's interests by leaving Blanche's guardian alone at last.

It was an excellent opportunity. The guests were safe in the house--there was no interruption to be feared, Arnold showed himself.

Sir Patrick (perfectly undisturbed by Lady Lundie's parting speech) sat down in the summer-house, without noticing his young friend, and asked himself a question founded on profound observation of the female s.e.x.

”Were there ever two women yet with a quarrel between them,” thought the old gentleman, ”who didn't want to drag a man into it? Let them drag _me_ in, if they can!”

Arnold advanced a step, and modestly announced himself. ”I hope I am not in the way, Sir Patrick?”

”In the way? of course not! Bless my soul, how serious the boy looks!

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