"They are in the corridor, dear; make the best of her for your dear uncle's sake," said her G.o.d-mother, breathlessly.

"Do not fear for me, dear G.o.dmother, especially as poor misguided uncle has wed so that I forsooth, shall find in Haughton Hall a fitting home, and yet, I, above all, should not speak in such tone, our race are capable of a n.o.ble self abnegation, even I at fourteen, but I dream aloud, dear G.o.dmother, forgive me."

"Surely, dear, with me alone, you may think audibly."

In a few minutes during which Vaura's eyes idly rest on the last beams of the western sun as they kiss the soft bands of hair and bring out the mauve tints in the rich satin robe of her now silent companion, when the door is opened wide, by a page admitting Col. and Mrs.

Haughton, with Miss Tompkins, followed by Sir Tilton Everly.

"My dear friend and darling Vaura, how glad, glad I am to see you both; you give the place quite a home look; Mrs. Haughton, Lady Esmondet and my niece Vaura, and here is my wife's step-daughter, Miss Tompkins, a devotee of the American Eagle, and Sir Tilton Everly."

"I should say so," said Blanche, "our Eagle would make short work of the furs of your Lion and not lose a feather."

"He would first be obliged to turn dentist and claw-remover, Miss Tompkins," said Vaura merrily.

"Miss Vernon," said Mrs. Haughton stiffly, "allow me even thus early in our acquaintance to make a request of you which is that you ignore the odious sirname of my step-daughter, simply calling her Blanche."

"Certainly, Mrs. Haughton, though it is out of order, if your step-daughter also wishes it."

"Oh yes, it don't make five cents difference, Miss Vernon; popa had to give up Annabella Elizabeth my real name; Mrs. T. didn't take to it, she only took Tompkins because it was set in diamonds."

This was said with the most child-like expression on the wee white face, but one could detect venom in the tone of voice. For answer there was a frown and an impatient stamp of foot as her step-mother says coldly.

"Lady Esmondet will excuse us, Blanche, while we change our travelling dresses."

"Certainly."

Sir Tilton flew to open the door; the Colonel seeing them to their appartments, and their maids in attendance, returned to the loving rest of his home birds.

"Well, uncle dear, how do you feel after your run to and fro?" said Vaura, affectionately, and going behind his chair, drew his head backwards, kissing his face in welcome.

"Pa.s.sing well, dear; here, take this chair beside me, and let me look at you; the Scotch lakes and sea-bathing have agreed with you, and with Lady Alice also," he added kindly.

"Eric, what did you think of New York," enquired Lady Esmondet, to divert his attention from her personally.

"Oh, it is just a large handsome city, with cosmopolitan cut in its very corner store, representing much wealth in its many fine buildings; there is a good deal of taste displayed in its burying grounds, and parks, and nearly all has a look of rapid growth about it, so different to our London."

"As our old slow-growing Oak in comparison with their Pines," said Vaura; "and what of the people generally?"

"Just what we know them to be, dear, full of energy and active life; sleeping never, I do believe, or if so, with eyes open."

"So full of mercury that it tires one even to think of them," said Vaura lazily.

"A great people though, Miss Vernon; strongly imbued with the spirit of the age, Progress," said Sir Tilton, who, from his corner, had never withdrawn his gaze from Vaura's face since the exit of the other ladies.

"True; but what a spirit of unrest is Progress, always flying, only resting on the wing to scatter to the winds a something new, to take the place of the old," said Vaura, thoughtfully.

"But, Vaura, dear," said Lady Esmondet, "it is astonishing how comfortably we _en ma.s.se_ keep pace with your flying spirit, eager to pick up its novelties."

"True, ladies, and elbow each other in the race," said Sir Tilton.

"I know I am old-fashioned," remarked the Colonel, a little sadly; "but our life of to-day does not come up to my ideal, as when a soldier on furlough I used to return to my dear old home; there, if anywhere on this lower sphere, peace and happiness reigned."

"You may well say so, Eric, with your n.o.ble father, sainted mother, and Vaura's mother, my dear friend, your sweet sister, Ethel, as inmates;" and in that instant their eyes met, full of sympathy. And be it what it may, an electric spark, the true speech of heart to heart, or what; the knowledge came to him for the first time of what he had lost, and a nervous tremor ran through him such as he had never felt at Delhi or Inkerman under sh.e.l.l or rifle fire. And the woman who had been too proud to show her love unasked, did not know whether she was glad or sorry that he had at last tasted of the tree of knowledge.

Mason here threw open the door for her mistress and Miss Tompkins, who enter, both having made elaborate toilets, the former in a gown of rose pink brocade, the latter wearing sky-blue silk, each lavish in their display of jewels.

"Dressed before you, after all, Miss Vernon," cried Mrs. Haughton, with latent malice. Even small Sir Tilton raised his eyebrows; for one moment Vaura was non-plussed; "underbred poor uncle," was her thought as she said quietly: "I have dined in salons at Brighton in this gown, Mrs. Haughton; I have listened to Patti robed as you see me."

"How mean of step-momma," thought Blanche.

"Never saw anyone to compare with her," thought the little baronet.

"Is it possible, Miss Vernon? You must excuse me, but I really thought it your travelling dress."

Waiters were now busy with the dining table at the end of the room, partially separated by folding doors; tempting _entrees_, steaming dishes, with delicious dainties, are now arranged.

"Surely, we dine at the _table d'hote_," said Mrs. Haughton, hastily; "you should have seen to it, Colonel; you know I prefer it."

"Pardon, Kate; I was unaware of this arrangement, dear."

"I am the culprit, Mrs. Haughton," said Lady Esmondet. "I thought we should all be warmer here; the air is chilly this evening."

"Oh, certainly, as you wish it; only when I take the trouble to dress for the _table d'hote_, I like to be seen," she answered, stiffly; "but we go to the theatre afterwards; and now, Sir Tilton, your arm."

And clearing her brow, she seats herself at table, her husband opposite, with his friend on his right.

"You have no hotels at London to compare with ours of New York city, Lady Esmondet," she said.

"You have, Mrs. Haughton, I believe, the verdict of the majority of the travelling public with you; though I have found the Langham, and others among our leading hotels, most comfortable."

"The difference between our system and theirs," said the Colonel, "is that ours savor of the British home, in the being chary of whom we admit, and a trifle pompous; while the French and Americans, as a people, are better adapted to make hotel life a pleasant success."

"Because you are too awfully too, and we are free and easy; that's what's the matter," said Blanche.

"Also," said Vaura, "the hotel and American are both of to-day."

"You havn't given us the newest London scandal, Sir Tilton," said Mrs.

Haughton, thinking of her plot.

"Political or social?" he asked, somewhat guardedly.

"Social, of course; I don't care a fig for the country."

"Well, to lead off with, the pretty Miss Fitz-Clayton, who was to have married Lord Menton, instead fell in love with her pater's tallest footman; and on her fortune they have been cooing all summer at the Cap de Juan; next," he hurriedly said, "Capt. Trevalyon's hidden wife is on; last, two separations and a new beauty."

There was a moment's pause, each thinking of Trevalyon, when Vaura said carelessly, to cover her quickened heart-beats:

"Here he comes, with his mouth full of news."

"This story about Trevalyon is a lie direct, Everly," said the Colonel, hastily.