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"You must remember we are old friends; there never was any formality about her visits to Barracombe." "My guardian and I walked down to the ferry, and saw her across the river, of course," said Peter, rather sulkily. "But her maid was with her," cried Mrs. Hewel. "Of course," Peter said again, in tones that were none too civil. After all, who was Lady Tintern that she should call him to task?
Why don't you say Tom? Colonel indeed!" said Lady Tintern. "Very well, I shall go alone." But this Mrs. Hewel would by no means allow. She reluctantly abandoned the effort to dissuade her aunt, put on her visiting things with as much speed as was possible to her, and finally accompanied her across the river to pay the proposed visit to Barracombe House.
"Eh the bright colouring must be a little faded all the Setouns have pretty complexions and carmine is a perishable tint, as we all know." "Sarah has a brilliant complexion," struck in Mrs. Hewel, zealously endeavouring to distract her aunt from the personalities in which she preferred to indulge.
They've done at last, but they're calling for you." "Yes, yes; I'm quite ready. I won't be so silly again," said Lady Mary. But Peter did not listen. "Why " he said, and stopped short. "Surely you haven't forgotten Sarah," said Lady Mary, laughing "your little playmate Sarah? But perhaps I ought to say Miss Hewel now." "How do you do, Sir Peter?" said Sarah, in a very stately manner.
His respect for Sarah's father, who had once commanded a cavalry regiment, had increased a thousand-fold since he last saw Colonel Hewel. "But won't you I mean she'd be very glad I wish you'd come over and dine to-night, all of you as you could not come yesterday evening?" Thus Peter delivered his first invitation, blushing with eagerness.
"I'm told you made a capital speech yesterday about sticking to your home, and living on your land, as your father, poor fellow, did before you." "I wish Sarah felt as you do, Peter," said Mrs. Hewel; "but, of course, she has grown too grand for us, who live contentedly in the country all the year round.
New though the structure is, the red sandstone of its walls and gables has been already so colored by the weather that they look like the growth of centuries, and whatever is exotic in the interior carries the mind back to the times of John of Padua. To pass from Hewel to Byram was to pass from one world to another, though both were saturated with traditions of old English life.
The houses already referred to as successive scenes of Christmas and New Year visits were Hewel Grange, Lord Plymouth's, near Bromsgrove, and Byram, Sir John Ramsden's, about twenty miles from York. Hewel Grange, which has taken the place of an old house, now abandoned, is itself entirely modern.
But Lady Mary, since she had known John Crewys, knew also that it is consideration for the feelings of others which causes the wise man to order his speech carefully. The canon shook his head when Peter stated that Miss Hewel was his junior by a twelvemonth. "She might be ten years older," he said, in awe-struck tones.
Sarah Hewel ran into the drawing-room before Lady Mary found courage to put her newly gained composure to the test, by joining the crowd on the terrace. "Oh, Lady Mary, are you there?" she cried, pausing in her eager passage to the window. "I thought you would be out-of-doors with the others!" "Sarah, my dear!" said Lady Mary, kissing her.