"Yes, he did; I suppose he thought it but right to put me in possession of all such facts in relation to a young foreigner whom he had been instrumental in introducing to my family. But, by the way, Middleton--Hurstmonceux? Was not that the t.i.tle of the young dowager countess whom Brudenell married, and parted with, years ago?"
"Yes; and I suppose that she was the widow of that very old man, the late Earl of Hurstmonceux, who died childless; in fact, she must have been."
"I wonder whatever became of her?"
"I do not know; I know nothing whatever about the last Countess of Hurstmonceux; but I know very well who has a fair prospect of becoming the next Countess of Hurstmonceux, if She pleases!" replied Mr.
Middleton, with a merry glance at his niece.
Claudia, who had been a silent, thoughtful, and attentive listener to their conversation, did not reply, but smothered a sigh and turned to look out of the window. The carriage was just drawing up before their own gate.
The whole face of the house was closed and darkened except one little light that burned in a small front window at the very top of the house.
It was Ishmael"s lamp; and, as plainly as if she had been in the room, Claudia in imagination saw the pale young face bent studiously over the volume lying open before him.
With another inward sigh Claudia gave her hand to her uncle, who had left the carriage to help her out. And then the whole party entered the house, where they were admitted by sleepy Jim.
And in another half hour they were all in repose.
CHAPTER LIII.
THE VISCOUNT VINCENT.
A king may make a belted knight, A marquis, duke and a" that, But an honest man"s aboon his might Gude faith he mauna fa" that!
For a" that and a" that, Their dignities and a" that, The pith o" sense and pride o" worth Are higher ranks than a" that.
--_Robert Burns_.
The next morning Ishmael and Bee, the only hard workers in the family, were the first to make their appearance in the breakfast room. They had both been up for hours--Ishmael in the library, answering letters, and Bee in the nursery, seeing that the young children were properly washed, dressed, and fed. And now, at the usual hour, they came down, a little hungry, and impatient for the morning meal. But for some time no one joined them. All seemed to be sleeping off the night"s dissipation. Bee waited nearly an hour, and then said:
"Ishmael, I will not detain you longer. I know that you wish to go to the courthouse, to watch the Emerson trial; so I will ring for breakfast. Industrious people must not be hindered by the tardiness of lazy ones," she added, with a smile, as she put her hand to the bell-cord.
Ishmael was about to protest against the breakfast being hurried on his account, when the matter was settled by the entrance of Judge Merlin, followed by Mr. Middleton and Claudia. After the morning salutations had pa.s.sed, the judge said:
"You may ring for breakfast, Claudia, my dear. We will not wait for your aunt, since your uncle tells us that she is too tired to rise this morning."
But as Bee had already rung, the coffee and m.u.f.fins were soon served, and the family gathered around the table.
Beside Claudia"s plate lay a weekly paper, which, as soon as she had helped her companions to coffee, she took up and read. It was a lively gossiping little paper of that day, published every Sat.u.r.day morning, under the somewhat sounding t.i.tle of "The Republican Court Journal," and it gave, in addition to the news of the world, the doings of the fashionable circles. This number of the paper contained a long description of the President"s drawing room of the preceding evening.
And as Claudia read it, she smiled and broke in silvery laughter.
Everyone looked up.
"What is it, my dear?" inquired the judge.
"Let us have it, Claudia," said Mr. Middleton.
"Oh, papa! oh, uncle! I really cannot read it out--it is too absurd! Is there no way, I wonder, of stopping these reporters from giving their auction-book schedule of one"s height, figure, complexion, and all that?
Here, Bee--you read it, my dear," said Claudia, handing it to her cousin.
Bee took the paper and cast her eyes over the article in question; but as she did so her cheek crimsoned with blushes, and she laid the paper down.
"Read it, Bee," said Claudia.
"I cannot," answered Beatrice coldly.
"Why not?"
"It makes my eyes burn even to see it! Oh, Claudia, how dare they take such liberties with your name?"
"Why, every word of it is praise--high praise."
"It is fulsome, offensive flattery."
"Oh, you jealous little imp!" said Miss Merlin, laughing.
"Yes, Claudia, I am jealous! not of you; but for you--for your delicacy and dignity," said Beatrice gravely.
"And you think, then, I have been wronged by this public notice?"
inquired the heiress, half wounded and half offended by the words of her cousin.
"I do," answered Beatrice gravely.
"As if I cared! Queens of society, like other sovereigns, must be so taxed for their popularity, Miss Middleton!" said Claudia, half laughingly and half defiantly.
Bee made no reply.
But Mr. Middleton extended his hand, saying:
"Give me the paper. Claudia is a little too independent, and Bee a little too fastidious, for either to be a fair judge of what is right and proper in this matter; so we will see for ourselves."
Judge Merlin nodded a.s.sent.
Mr. Middleton read the article aloud. It was really a very lively description of the President"s evening reception--interesting to those who had not been present; more interesting to those who had; and most interesting of all to those who found themselves favorably noticed. To the last-mentioned the notice was fame--for a day. The article was two or three columns in length; but we will quote only a few lines. One paragraph said:
"Among the distinguished guests present was the young Viscount Vincent, eldest son and heir of the earl of Hurstmonceux and Banff. He was presented by the British minister."
Another paragraph alluded to Claudia in these terms:
"The belle of the evening, beyond all compet.i.tion, was the beautiful Miss M----n, only daughter and heiress of Judge M----n, of the Supreme Court. It will be remembered that the blood of Pocahontas runs in this young beauty"s veins, giving l.u.s.ter to her raven black hair, light to her dusky eyes, fire to her brown cheeks, and majesty and grace to all her movements. She is truly an Indian princess."
"Well!" said Mr. Middleton, laying down the paper, "I agree with Bee. It is really too bad to be trotted out in this way, and have all your points indicated, and then be dubbed with a fancy name besides. Why, Miss Merlin, they will call you the "Indian" Princess" to the end of time, or of your Washington campaign."
Claudia tossed her head.
"What odds?" she asked. "I am rather proud to be of the royal lineage of Powhatan. They may call me Indian princess, if they like. I will accept the t.i.tle."