And before a word could be exchanged between them the doors were thrown open and the butler announced:
“My lady is served.”
“Sir Lemuel, will you give your arm to Lady ——, and allow me to take Miss Levison in to dinner?” said the noble host, drawing the young lady’s hand within his arm.
“Mr. John Scott” took in Lady Belgrave.
At dinner Miss Levison found herself seated nearly opposite to the young marquis. She could not watch him, she could not even lift her eyes to his face, but she could not chose but listen to every syllable that fell from his lips. It was the cue of some of the leading politicians present to draw out this young apostle of the reform cause. And of course they proceeded to do it.
The young journalist, modest and reserved at first, as became a disciple in the presence of the leaders of the great cause, gradually grew more communicative, then animated, then eloquent.
Among his hearers, none listened with a deeper interest than Salome Levison. Although he did not address one syllable of his conversation to her, nor cast one glance of his eyes upon her, yet she hung upon his words as though they had been the oracles of a prophet.
If the high ideal honor and reverence in which she held him, could have been increased by any circumstance, it must have been from the sentiments expressed, the principles declared in his discourse.
She saw before her, not only the loyal son, who had sacrificed himself to save his father, but she saw also in him the reformer, enlightener, educator and benefactor of his race and age.
Of all the men she had met in the great world of society, during the three years that she had been “out,” she had not found his equal, either in manly beauty and dignity, or in moral and intellectual excellence.
His brow needs no ducal coronet to ennoble it! His name needs no title to illustrate it. The “princely Hereward!” “If all the men of his race resembled him, they well deserved this popular soubriquet. And whether this gentleman calls himself Mr. Scott or Lord Arondelle, I shall think of him only as the ‘princely Hereward.’” mused Salome, as she sat and listened to the music of his voice, and the wisdom of his words.
She was sorry when their hostess gave the signal for the ladies to rise from the table and leave the gentlemen to their wine.
They went into the drawing-room, where the conversation turned upon the subject of the brilliant young journalist. No one knew who he was. Scott, though a very good name, was such a common one! But the noble host’s endorsement was certainly enough to pass this gifted young gentleman in any society. The ladies talked of nothing but Mr. Scott, and his perfection of person, manner and conversation, until the entrance of the gentlemen from the dining-room.
The host and the member for Lone came in arm in arm, and a little in the rear of the other guests, and lingered behind them.