Arthur, excepting that if he looked towards her, she instantly looked out of the window. She neither spoke nor moved: Violet thought that she had not given her a single glance, but she was mistaken, Theodora was observing, and forming a judgment.

This wife, for whose sake Arthur had perilled so much, and inflicted such acute pain on her, what were her merits? A complexion of lilies and roses, a head like a steel engraving in an annual, a face expressing nothing but childish bashfulness, a manner ladylike but constrained, and a dress of studied simplicity worse than finery.

Lady Martindale spoke of dressing, and conducted her meek shy visitor up a grand staircase, along a broad gallery, into a large bed-room, into which the western sun beamed with a dazzling flood of light.

The first use Violet made of her solitude was to look round in amaze at the size and luxury of her room, wondering if she should ever feel at home where looking-glasses haunted her with her own insignificance. She fled from them, to try to cool her cheeks at the open window, and gaze at the pleasure-ground, which reminded her of prints of Versailles, by the sparkling fountain rising high in fantastic jets from its stone basin, in the midst of an expanse of level turf, bordered by terraces and stone steps, adorned with tall vases of flowers. On the balustrade stood a peacock, bending his blue neck, and drooping his gorgeous train, as if he was 'monarch of all he surveyed.'

Poor Violet felt as if no one but peacocks had a right here; and when she remembered that less than twelve weeks ago the summit of her wishes had been to go to the Wrangerton ball, it seemed to be a dream, and she shut her eyes, almost expecting to open them on Annette's face, and the little attic at home. But then, some one else must have been the fabric of a vision! She made haste to unclose them, and her heart bounded at thinking that he was born to all this! She started with joy as his step approached, and he entered the room.

'Let us look at you,' he said. 'Have you your colour? Ay, plenty of it. Are you getting tamer, you startled thing?'

'I hope I have not been doing wrong. Lady Martindale asked me to have some tea. I never heard of such a thing before dinner, but I thought afterwards it might have been wrong to refuse. Was it!'

He laughed. 'Theodora despises nothing so much as women who drink tea in the middle of the day.'

'I am so afraid of doing what is unladylike. Your mother offered me a maid, but I only thought of not giving trouble, and she seemed so shocked at my undoing my own trunk.'

'No, no,' said he, much diverted; 'she never thinks people can help themselves. She was brought up to be worshipped. Those are her West Indian ways. But don't you get gentility notions; Theodora will never stand them, and will respect you for being independent. However, don't make too little of yourself, or be shy of making the lady's maids wait on you. There are enough of them--my mother has two, and Theodora a French one to her own share.

'I should not like any one to do my hair, if that is not wrong.'

'None of them all have the knack with it you have, and it is lucky, for they cost as much as a hunter.'

'Indeed, I will try to be no expense.'

'I say, what do you wear this evening?'

'Would my white muslin be fit?'

'Ay, and the pink ribbons in your hair, mind. You will not see my aunt till after dinner, when I shall not be there; but you must do the best you can, for much depends on it. My aunt brought my mother up, and is complete master here. I can't think how my father'--and he went on talking to himself, as he retreated into his dressing-room, so that all Violet heard was, 'wife's relations,' and 'take warning.'

He came back to inspect her toilette and suggest adornments, till, finding he was overdoing them, he let her follow her own taste, and was so satisfied with the result, that he led her before the glass, saying, 'There. Mrs. Martindale, that's what I call well got up. Don't you?'

'I don't mind seeing myself when I have you to look at.'

'You think we make a handsome couple? Well, I am glad you are tall-- not much shorter than Theodora, after all.'

'But, oh! how shall I behave properly all dinner-time? Do make a sign if I am doing anything wrong.'

'Nonsense!'

'I know I shall make mistakes. Matilda says I shall. I had a letter from her this morning to warn me against 'solecisms in etiquette,' and to tell me to buy the number of the 'Family Friend' about dinner- parties, but I had not time, and I am sure I shall do wrong.'

'You would be much more likely, if you had Matilda and her prig of a book,' said Arthur, between anger and diversion. 'Tell her to mind her own business--she is not your mistress now, and she shall not teach you affectation. Why, you silly child, should I have had you if you had not been 'proper behaved'? You have nothing to do but to remember you are my wife, and as good as any of them, besides being twenty times prettier. Now, are you ready?'

'Yes, quite; but how shall I find my way here again?'

'See, it is the third door from the stairs. The rest on this side are spare rooms, except where you see those two green baize doors at the ends. They lead to passages, the wings on the garden side. In this one my aunt's rooms are, and Miss Piper, her white nigger, and the other is Theodora's.'

'And all these opposite doors?'

'Those four belong to my father and mother; these two are John's. His sitting-room is the best in the house. The place is altogether too big for comfort. Our little parlour at Winchester was twice as snug as that overgrown drawing-room down-stairs.'

'Dear little room! I hope we may go back to it. But what a view from this end window! That avenue is the most beautiful thing I have seen yet. It looks much older than the house.'

'It is. My father built the house, but we were an old county family long before. The old Admiral, the first lord, had the peerage settled on my father, who was his nephew and head of the family, and he and my Aunt Nesbit having been old friends in the West Indies, met at Bath, and cooked up the match. He wanted a fortune for his nephew, and she wanted a coronet for her niece! I can't think how she came to be satisfied with a trumpery Irish one. You stare, Violet; but that is my aunt's notion of managing, and the way she meant to deal with all of us. She has monstrous hoards of her own, which she thinks give her a right to rule. She has always given out that she meant the chief of them for me, and treated me accordingly, but I am afraid she has got into a desperately bad temper now, and we must get her out of it as best we can.'

This not very encouraging speech was made as they stood looking from the gallery window. Some one came near, and Violet started. It was a very fashionably-dressed personage, who, making a sort of patronizing sweeping bend, said, 'I was just about to send a person to assist Mrs. Martindale. I hope you will ring whenever you require anything. The under lady's maid will be most happy to attend you.'

'There,' said Arthur, as the lady passed on, 'that is the greatest person in the house, hardly excepting my aunt. That is Miss Altisidora Standaloft, her ladyship's own maid.'

Violet's feelings might somewhat resemble those of the Emperor Julian when he sent for a barber, and there came a count of the empire.

'She must have wanted to look at you,' proceeded Arthur, 'or she would never have treated us with such affability. But come along, here is Theodora's room.'

It was a cheerful apartment, hung with prints, with somewhat of a school-room aspect, and in much disorder. Books and music lay confused with blue and lilac cottons, patterns, scissors, and papers covered with mysterious dots; there were odd-looking glass bottles on the mantel-shelf with odder looking things in them, and saucers holding what Violet, at home, would have called messes; the straw-bonnet lay on the floor, and beside it the Scotch terrier, who curled up his lips, showed his white teeth, and greeted the invaders with a growl, which became a bark as Arthur snapped his fingers at him. 'Ha! Skylark, that is bad manners. Where's your mistress? Theodora!'

At the call, the door of the inner room opened, but only a little dark damsel appeared, saying, in a French accent, that Miss Martindale was gone to Miss Gardner's room.

'Is Miss Gardner here?' exclaimed Arthur.

'She is arrived about half an hour ago,' was the reply. Arthur uttered an impatient interjection, and Violet begged to know who Miss Gardner was.

'A great friend of Theodora's. I wish she would have kept further off just now, not that she is not a good- natured agreeable person enough, but I hate having strangers here. There will be no good to be got out of Theodora now! There are two sisters always going about staying at places, the only girls Theodora ever cared for;

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