A hearty but contemptuous laugh broke from Dalton as he heard this speech. It was indeed somewhat of a surprise to listen to such a charge. He, Peter Dalton, that knew a spavined horse, or could detect a windgall better than any man in the county; he, that never was “taken in” by a roarer, nor deceived by a crib-biter, to tell him that he knew nothing of life!
“That'll do, doctor, that'll do,” said he, with a most compassionating smile at the other's ignorance. “I hope you know more about medicine than you seem to do about men and women;” and, with these words, he left the room, banging the door after him as he went, and actually ashamed that he had been betrayed into warmth by one so evidently deficient in the commonest knowledge of the world.
“I 'm sorry I kept you waiting, girls,” said he, approaching them. “And, indeed, I might have spent my time better, too. But no matter; we must try and find out her Ladyship now, for the morning is slipping over.”
As he spoke, George Onslow appeared, and recognizing the party with much cordiality, conducted them to the breakfast-room, where Sir Stafford, Lady Hester, and Miss Onslow were seated. If Sydney's reception of the two sisters was less enthusiastic than Lady Hester's, it was not less kind. Nelly was won almost instantaneously by the unaffected ease and simplicity of her manner. As for Dalton himself, her Ladyship had determined to carry him by storm. She suffered him to declaim about his ancestors and their wealth; heard him with assumed interest in all his interminable stories of Dal tons for six generations; and artfully opposed to his regrets at the approaching departure of his daughter the ingenious consolation that she was not about to sojourn with mere strangers, but with those united to her by the ties of kindred. George had, meanwhile, made two or three efforts to engage Kate in conversation; but, whether from the preoccupation of her mind, agitated as it well might be at such a moment, or that his topics were so utterly new and strange to her, his attempt was not attended with any signal success. A sense of shame, too, at the disparity of her own and her sister's appearance, in contrast with the quiet elegance of Lady Hester and Miss Onslow's dress, oppressed her. Strange was it that this feeling should have agitated her now, she who always hitherto had never wasted a thought on such matters, and yet she felt it acutely; and as she glanced from the rustling robe of silk to the folds of her own homely costume, her heart beat painfully, and her breathing came short. Was she already changed, that thoughts tike these could impress her so strongly? Had Adam's first shame descended to his daughter? “How unlike I am to them!” was the bitter thought that rose to her mind, and ate like a cancer into her heart.
The sense of inferiority, galling and torturing as it is, becomes infinitely more unendurable when connected with matters of trivial importance. There is a sense of indignant anger in the feeling that we are surpassed by what seem the mere conventionalities and tricks of society, and although Kate knew not the source of her unhappiness, some of it lay in this fact. Every little gesture, every motion, the merest peculiarities of voice or accent, now struck her as distinctive of a class, a class to which no imitation would ever give her a resemblance. If it were not for very shame, she would have drawn back now at the eleventh hour. More than once was she on the verge of confessing what was passing within her mind; but fears of various kinds, of her father's anger, of ridicule, of the charge of frivolity, all conspired to keep her silent, and she sat and listened to descriptions of pleasure and scenes wherein she had already lost every interest, and which somehow came associated with a sense of her own inferiority.
Never did home seem so regrettable as in that moment: the humble fireside in winter; the happy evenings with little Hanserl; the summer's day rambles in the forest; their little feasts beside the waterfall, under the ivy-clad walls of Eberstein, all rose before her. They were pleasures which had no alloy in her own humble lot, and why desert them? She had almost gained courage to say that she would not, when a chance word caught her ear one word how little to hang a destiny upon! It was Lady Hester, who, conversing in a half-whisper with Mr. Dalton, said,
“She will be perfectly beautiful when dressed becomingly.”
Was this, then, all that was needed to give her the stamp and semblance of the others? Oh, if she could believe it! If she could but fancy that, at some future time, such graceful elegance should be her own, that gentle languor, that chastened quietude of Sydney, or that sparkling lightness of Lady Hester herself!
“What time de horses, saar?” said the courier, popping his head into the room.
“I scarcely know what do you say, Lady Hester?”
“I 'm quite ready this instant if you like indeed, I 'm always the first,” said she, gayly; “nobody travels with less preparation than I do. There, see all I want!” and she pointed to a fan, and a book, and a smelling-bottle, as if all her worldly effects and requirements went no further, and that four great imperials and a dozen capacious boxes were not packed with her wardrobe. “I do detest the worry and fuss some people make about a journey for a week, or even a month beforehand; they unsettle themselves and every one around them; putting under lock and key half the things of every-day utility, and making a kind of 'jail-delivery' of all the imprisoned old cloaks and dresses of the toilet. As for me, I take the road as I 'd go to the Opera, or drive out in the Park I ask for my bonnet, that's all.”
There was some truth in this. Her Ladyship did, in fact, give herself not a whit more thought or consideration for preparation of any kind, than if the excursion had been a promenade.
“It is now two o'clock,” said Sir Stafford, “and if we mean to reach Offenburg to-night we must not lose more time. Isn't it Offenburg you advise as our halt, Mr. Jekyl?”
“Yes, Sir Stafford,” simpered out that bland personage. “It is a most comfortable little inn, and a very praiseworthy cook.”
“By the bye, has any one thought of ordering luncheon here?” cried George.
Jekyl gave a nod, to intimate that he had taken that precaution.
“And, Mr. Jekyl,” said Lady Hester, “what of those bullfinches, for I must have them?”
“They are safely caged and packed in our britzska, madam. You 'll also find that your sketch-book and the water-colors are available at any moment, Miss Onslow,” said he, with a respectful gesture. She smiled, and bowed her thanks in silence.
“And de horses, saar?” asked the courier once more, for during this colloquy he had been standing in expectation of his orders.
“Do tell him, Mr. Jekyl,” said Lady Hester, with that tone of languor that bespoke her dislike to the trouble of even a trifling degree of resolution.
“I think we shall say in one hour, Gregoire,” said Jekyl, mildly. “And, perhaps, it would be better that you should see—” What this matter was that the courier should bestow his special attention upon is not on record in this history, inasmuch as that when the speaker had reached thus far, he passed out of the door, talking as he went, in a low and confidential voice.
“Capital fellow Jekyl!” exclaimed George; “he forgets nothing.”
“He appears to be a most accomplished traveller,” said Sir Stafford.
“And such a linguist!” said Sydney.
“And so amusing!” added my Lady.
“And such a rogue!” muttered Dalton to himself, who, although so open to any imposition that took the form of flattery, could at once detect the knavery that was practised upon others, and who, at a glance, read the character of the new acquaintance.
“Don't you like the stir and