He could have desired the transfusion of a quality or two from Laetitia to his bride; but you cannot, as in cookery, obtain a mixture of the essences of these creatures; and if, as it is possible to do, and as he had been doing recently with the pair of them at the Hall, you stew them in one pot, you are far likelier to intensify their little birthmarks of individuality. Had they a tendency to excellence it might be otherwise; they might then make the exchanges we wish for; or scientifically concocted in a harem for a sufficient length of time by a sultan anything but obtuse, they might. It is, however, fruitless to dwell on what was only a glimpse of a wild regret, like the crossing of two express trains along the rails in Sir Willoughby’s head.
The ladies Eleanor and Isabel were sitting with Miss Dale, all three at work on embroideries. He had merely to look at Miss Eleanor. She rose. She looked at Miss Isabel, and rattled her chatelaine to account for her departure. After a decent interval Miss Isabel glided out. Such was the perfect discipline of the household.
Sir Willoughby played an air on the knee of his crossed leg.
Laetitia grew conscious of a meaning in the silence. She said, “You have not been vexed by affairs to-day?”
“Affairs,” he replied, “must be peculiarly vexatious to trouble me. Concerning the country or my personal affairs?”
“I fancy I was alluding to the country.”
“I trust I am as good a patriot as any man living,” said he; “but I am used to the follies of my countrymen, and we are on board a stout ship. At the worst it’s no worse than a rise in rates and taxes; soup at the Hall gates, perhaps; license to fell timber in one of the outer copses, or some dozen loads of coal. You hit my feudalism.”
“The knight in armour has gone,” said Laetitia, “and the castle with the draw-bridge. Immunity for our island has gone too since we took to commerce.”
“We bartered independence for commerce. You hit our old controversy. Ay, but we do not want this overgrown population! However, we will put politics and sociology and the pack of their modern barbarous words aside. You read me intuitively. I have been, I will not say annoyed, but ruffled. I have much to do, and going into Parliament would make me almost helpless if I lose Vernon. You know of some absurd notion he has?—literary fame, and bachelor’s chambers, and a chop-house, and the rest of it.”
She knew, and thinking differently in the matter of literary fame, she flushed, and, ashamed of the flush, frowned.
He bent over to her with the perusing earnestness of a gentleman about to trifle.
“You cannot intend that frown?”
“Did I frown?”
“You do.”
“Now?”
“Fiercely.”
“Oh!”
“Will you smile to reassure me?”
“Willingly, as well as I can.”
A gloom overcame him. With no woman on earth did he shine so as to recall to himself seigneur and dame of the old French Court as he did with Laetitia Dale. He did not wish the period revived, but reserved it as a garden to stray into when he was in the mood for displaying elegance and brightness in the society of a lady; and in speech Laetitia helped him to the nice delusion. She was not devoid of grace of bearing either.