has renounced the world, and has taken refuge in the bosom of the Holy
Catholic Church. Lady Holchester has seen her in a convent at Rome. She
is passing through the period of her probation; and she is resolved to
take the veil. Lady Lundie, as a good Protestant, lifts her hands in
horror--declares the topic to be too painful to dwell on--and, by way of
varying it, goes straight to the point at last. Has Lady I Holchester,
in the course of her continental experience, happened to meet with, or
to hear of--Mrs. Arnold Brinkworth?
“I have ceased, as you know, to hold any communication with my
relatives,” Lady Lundie explains. “The course they took at the time of
our family trial--the sympathy they felt with a Person whom I can not
even now trust myself to name more particularly--alienated us from each
other. I may be grieved, dear Lady Holchester; but I bear no malice. And
I shall always feel a motherly interest in hearing of Blanche’s welfare.
I have been told that she and her husband were traveling, at the time
when you and Lord Holchester were traveling. Did you meet with them?”
Julius and his wife looked at each other. Lord Holchester is dumb. Lady
Holchester replies:
“We saw Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Brinkworth at Florence, and afterward
at Naples, Lady Lundie. They returned to England a week since, in
anticipation of a certain happy event, which will possibly increase the
members of your family circle. They are now in London. Indeed, I may
tell you that we expect them here to lunch to-day.”
Having made this plain statement, Lady Holchester looks at Lady Lundie.
(If _that_ doesn’t hasten her departure, nothing will!)
Quite useless! Lady Lundie holds her ground. Having heard absolutely
nothing of her relatives for the last six months, she is burning with
curiosity to hear more. There is a name she has not mentioned yet. She
places a certain constraint upon herself, and mentions it now.
“And Sir Patrick?” says her ladyship, subsiding into a gentle
melancholy, suggestive of past injuries condoned by Christian
forgiveness. “I only know what report tells me. Did you meet with Sir
Patrick at Florence and Naples, also?”
Julius and his wife look at each other again. The clock in the hall
strikes. Julius shudders. Lady Holchester’s patience begins to give way.
There is an awkward pause. Somebody must say something. As before, Lady
Holchester replies “Sir Patrick went abroad, Lady Lundie, with his niece
and her husband; and Sir Patrick has come back with them.”
“In good health?” her ladyship inquires.
“Younger than ever,” Lady Holchester rejoins.
Lady Lundie smiles satirically. Lady Holchester notices the smile;
decides that mercy shown to _this_ woman is mercy misplaced; and
announces (to her husband’s horror) that she has news to tell of Sir
Patrick, which will probably take his sister-in-law by surprise.
Lady Lundie waits eagerly to hear what the news is.
“It is no secret,” Lady Holchester proceeds--“though it is only known,
as yet to a few intimate friends. Sir Patrick has made an important
change in his life.”
Lady Lundie’s charming smile suddenly dies out.
“Sir Patrick is not only a very clever and a very agreeable man,” Lady
Holchester resumes a little maliciously; “he is also, in all his habits
and ways (as you well know), a man younger than his years--who still
possesses many of the qualities which seldom fail to attract women.”
Lady Lundie starts to her feet.
“You don’t mean to tell me, Lady Holchester, that Sir Patrick is
married?”
“I do.”
Her ladyship drops back on the sofa; helpless really and truly helpless,
under the double blow that has fallen on her. She is not only struck out
of her place as the chief woman of the family, but (still on the right
side of forty) she is socially superannuated, as The Dowager Lady
Lundie, for the rest of her life!
“At his age!” she exclaims, as soon as she can speak.
“Pardon me for reminding you,” Lady Holchester answers, “that plenty of
men marry at Sir Patrick’s age. In his case, it is only due to him to
say that his motive raises him beyond the reach of ridicule or reproach.
His marriage is a good action, in the highest sense of the word. It does
honor to _him,_ as well as to the lady who shares his position and his
name.”
“A young girl, of course!” is Lady Lundie’s next remark.
“No. A woman who has been tried by no common suffering, and who has
borne her hard lot nobly. A woman who deserves the calmer and the
happier life on which she is entering now.”
“May I ask who she is?”
Before the question can be answered, a knock at the house door announces
the arrival of visitors. For the third time, Julius and his wife look at
each other. On this occasion, Julius interferes.
“My wife has already told you, Lady Lundie, that we expect Mr. and Mrs.
Brinkworth to lunch. Sir Patrick, and the new Lady Lundie, accompany
them. If I am mistaken in supposing that it might not be quite agreeable
to you to meet them, I can only ask your pardon. If I am right, I will
leave Lady Holchester to receive our friends, and will do myself the
honor of taking you into another room.”
He advances to the door of an inner room. He offers his arm to Lady
Lundie. Her ladyship stands immovable; determined to see the woman who
has supplanted her. In a moment more, the door of entrance from the hall
is thrown open; and the servant announces, “Sir Patrick and Lady Lundie.
Mr. and Mrs. Arnold Brinkworth.”
Lady Lundie looks at the woman who has taken her place at the head of
the family; and sees--ANNE SILVESTER!