“You want your lunch, my dear,” said Mrs. John.
“Perhaps I do,” said Miss Marjoribanks, with a mournful affectionate smile. “I have been sitting to Maria Brown. She has taken six, and I am sure they are every one more hideous than the other; and they will go all over England, you know, for the Browns have hosts of people belonging to them; and everybody will say, ‘So that is Miss Marjoribanks.’ I don’t think I am vain to speak of,” said Lucilla, “but that sort of thing goes to one’s heart.”
“These amateurs are terrible people,” said Mr. Ashburton, in his steady way; “and photographs are a regular nuisance. For my part—”
“Don’t say that,” said Miss Marjoribanks. “I know what you are going to say; and you must sit to her, please. I have said already she must do one of you; and I will tell you presently about the Major. But wait and talk to Aunt Jemima a little, for I am so tired,” said Lucilla. She was lying back negligently in her seat, with that air of languor which so many young ladies excel in, but which was for her a novel indulgence. Her hand hung over the arm of her chair as if there was no longer any force in it. Her head fell back, her eyes were half closed; it was a moment of abandonment to her sensations, such as a high-principled young woman like Miss Marjoribanks seldom gives way to. But Lucilla went into it conscientiously, as into everything she did, that she might regain her strength for the necessary duties that were before her.
And it was at this moment that Thomas appeared at the door with a suspicion of a grin appearing at the corners of his sober mouth, and announced Mr. Cavendish, who came in before an ordinary woman would have had time to open her eyes. This was the moment he had chosen for his first visit; and yet it was not he who had chosen it, but fate, who seemed to have in this respect a spite against Lucilla. It was not only the embarrassing presence of his rival, but the fact that neither of the two people in the room knew or had ever seen Mr. Cavendish, that put a climax to the horror of the situation. She alone knew him, and had to take upon herself to present and introduce him, and bridge over for him the long interval of absence, and all this with the sense of being in the enemy’s interest, and to a certain extent false to Mr. Cavendish! Lucilla rose at once, but she was not a woman to make pretences. She did not throw off all in a moment her fatigue, and dash into spasmodic action. She held out her hand silently to Mr. Cavendish, with a look which spoke only affectionate satisfaction in a friend’s return. She did not even speak at all for the first moment, but contented herself with a look, which indeed, if he had been younger and less preoccupied, would no doubt have touched his very heart.
“So you have really come back,” she said. “I am so glad! after all that people said about your being married and dead and ever so many stupid things. Oh! don’t look at me, please. It doesn’t matter with a gentleman, but I know as well as if you had told me that you think me dreadfully gone off—”
“I entertain such a profane idea!” said Mr. Cavendish; but he was considerably embarrassed, and he was a great deal stouter, and altogether different from what he used to be, and he had not the light hand of his youth for a compliment. And then he sat down on the chair Thomas had given him; and he looked uncomfortable, to say the least of it; and he was getting large in dimensions and a little red in the face, and had by no means the air of thinking that it didn’t matter for a gentleman. As for Miss Marjoribanks, it would be impossible to say what mists of illusion dropped away from her mind at the sight of him. Even while she smiled upon the newcomer, she could not but ask herself, with momentary dismay—Had she really gone off as much in the same time?
“I have been looking for you,” Miss Marjoribanks resumed; “I waited in for you Tuesday and Wednesday, and it is so odd you should have come just at this minute. Aunt Jemima, this is Mr. Cavendish, whom you have heard so much about—and don’t go, please, Mr. Ashburton—you two must know each other. You will be hearing of each other constantly; and I suppose you will have to shake hands or something on the hustings—so it will be much the best to begin it here.”
But the two candidates did not
