The contrast between the two was remarkable--the young girl with her n.o.ble face, her grand soul looking out of her clear dark eyes; Lady Hampton with her artificial smiles, her shifting glances, and would-be charming gestures. Sir Oswald stood by with a courtly smile on his face.
"I have some charming news for you," said Lady Hampton. "I am sure you will be pleased to hear it, Miss Darrell."
"That will quite depend on what it is like," interposed Pauline, honestly.
"You dear, droll child! You are so original; you have so much character.
I always tell Sir Oswald you are quite different from any one else."
And though her ladyship spoke smilingly, she gave a keen, quiet glance at Sir Oswald"s face, in all probability to watch the effect of her words.
"Ah, well," she continued, "I suppose that in your position a little singularity may be permitted," and then she paused, with a bland smile.
"To what position do you allude?" asked Miss Darrell.
Lady Hampton laughed again. She nodded with an air of great penetration.
"You are cautious, Miss Darrell. But I am forgetting my news. It is this--that my niece, Miss Elinor Rocheford, is coming to visit me."
She waited evidently for Miss Darrell to make some complimentary reply.
Not a word came from the proud lips.
"And when she comes I hope, Miss Darrell, that you and she will be great friends."
"It is rather probable, if I like her," was the frank reply.
Sir Oswald looked horrified. Lady Hampton smiled still more sweetly.
"You are sure to like her. Elinor is most dearly loved wherever she goes."
"Is she a sweet creature?" asked Pauline, with such inimitable mimicry that Miss Hastings shuddered, while Sir Oswald turned pale.
"She is indeed," replied Lady Hampton, who, if she understood the sarcasm, made no sign. "With Sir Oswald"s permission, I shall bring her to spend a long day with you, Miss Darrell."
"I shall be charmed," said Sir Oswald--"really delighted, Lady Hampton.
You do me great honor indeed."
He looked at his niece for some little confirmation of his words, but that young lady appeared too haughty for speech; the word "honor" seemed to her strangely misapplied.
Lady Hampton relaxed none of her graciousness; her bland suavity continued the same until the end of the visit; and then, in some way, she contrived to make Miss Hastings understand that she wanted to speak with her. She asked the governess if she would go with her to the carriage, as she wished to consult her about some music. When they were alone, her air and manner changed abruptly. She turned eagerly to her, her eyes full of sharp, keen curiosity.
"Can you tell me one thing?" she asked. "Is Sir Oswald going to make that proud, stupid, illiterate girl his heiress--mistress of Darrell Court?"
"I do not know," replied Miss Hastings. "How should I be able to answer such a question?"
"Of course I ask in confidence--only in strict confidence; you understand that, Miss Hastings?"
"I understand," was the grave reply.
"All the county is crying shame on him," said her ladyship. "A French painter"s daughter. He must be mad to think of such a thing. A girl brought up in the midst of Heaven knows what. He never can intend to leave Darrell Court to her."
"He must leave it to some one," said Miss Hastings; "and who has a better right to it than his own sister"s child?"
"Let him marry," she suggested, hastily; "let him marry, and leave it to children of his own. Do you think the county will tolerate such a mistress for Darrell Court--so blunt, so ignorant? Miss Hastings, he must marry."
"I can only suppose," replied the governess, "that he will please himself, Lady Hampton, without any reference to the county."
CHAPTER VII.
CAPTAIN LANGTON.
June, with its roses and lilies, pa.s.sed on, the laburnums had all fallen, the lilies had vanished, and still the state of affairs at Darrell Court remained doubtful. Pauline, in many of those respects in which her uncle would fain have seen her changed, remained unaltered--indeed it was not easy to unlearn the teachings of a life-time.
Miss Hastings, more patient and hopeful than Sir Oswald, persevered, with infinite tact and discretion. But there were certain peculiarities of which Pauline could not be broken. One was a habit of calling everything by its right name. She had no notion of using any of those polite little fictions society delights in; no matter how harsh, how ugly the word, she did not hesitate to use it. Another peculiarity was that of telling the blunt, plain, abrupt truth, no matter what the cost, no matter who was pained. She tore aside the flimsy vail of society with zest; she spared no one in her almost ruthless denunciations. Her intense scorn for all kinds of polite fiction was somewhat annoying.
"You need not say that I am engaged, James," she said, one day, when a lady called whom she disliked. "I am not engaged, but I do not care to see Mrs. Camden."
Even that bland functionary looked annoyed. Miss Hastings tried to make some compromise.
"You cannot send such a message as that, Miss Darrell. Pray listen to reason."
"Sir Oswald and yourself agreed that she was----"
"Never mind that," hastily interrupted Miss Hastings. "You must not hurt any one"s feelings by such a blunt message as that; it is neither polite nor well-bred."
"I shall never cultivate either politeness or good breeding at the expense of truth; therefore you had better send the message yourself, Miss Hastings."
"I will do so," said the governess, quietly. "I will manage it in such a way as to show Mrs. Camden that she is not expected to call again, yet so as not to humiliate her before the servants; but, remember, not at any sacrifice of truth."
Such contests were of daily, almost hourly, occurrence. Whether the result would be such a degree of training as to fit the young lady for taking the position she wished to occupy, remained doubtful.
"This is really very satisfactory," said Sir Oswald, abruptly, one morning, as he entered the library, where Miss Hastings awaited him.
"But," he continued, "before I explain myself, let me ask you how are you getting on--what progress are you making with your tiresome pupil?"
The gentle heart of the governess was grieved to think that she could not give a more satisfactory reply. Little real progress had been made in study; less in manner.
"There is a ma.s.s of splendid material, Sir Oswald," she said; "but the difficulty lies in putting it into shape."
"I am afraid," he observed, "people will make remarks; and I have heard more than one doubt expressed as to what kind of hands Darrell Court is likely to fall into should I make Pauline my heiress. You see she is capable of almost anything. She would turn the place into an asylum; she would transform it into a college for philosophers, a home for needy artists--in fact, anything that might occur to her--without the least hesitation."
Miss Hastings could not deny it. They were not speaking of a manageable nineteenth century young lady, but of one to whom no ordinary rules applied, whom no customary measures fitted.
"I have a letter here," continued Sir Oswald, "from Captain Aubrey Langton, the son of one of my oldest and dearest friends. He proposes to pay me a visit, and--pray, Miss Hastings, pardon me for suggesting such a thing, but I should be so glad if he would fall in love with Pauline.
I have an idea that love might educate and develop her more quickly than anything else."