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With pitiless reality the play of it all came over him, and he walked off lest the sudden surging of his blood be heard. "But I'm not his wife." Claudia's voice was cool and even. "He doesn't know the children he is getting these things for, and I do. But Channing would like this register, Mr. Laine. And Dorothea told me she wanted a drawing-table like that one over there.
But the text was an unfortunate one for Claudia's spirits. It was taken from James iv. 13: "Ye know not what shall be on the morrow." And the subject of the discourse was on the vanity of human expectations and the uncertainty of human destiny. Claudia returned home greatly depressed; but that depression soon yielded to the cheerfulness of Lady Hurstmonceux's manner.
She was a martial little soul in spite of her distinctly feminine type of mind. Aunt Claudia's lingerie, chastely French-embroidered in little scallops, with fresh white ribbons run in, was laid out on the bed in neat piles. There was also a gray corduroy dressing-gown, lined with silk. "This will be too warm," Becky said; "please let me put in my white crepe house-coat.
"It is a great thing to know that my child has in her the blood of all those wonderful people whose portraits hang in the hall. I want her to be worthy of her name." She could have said nothing better. Aunt Claudia's face was lighted by the warmth in her heart. "Such a lot of ancestors for one little fat Fidelity," she said; "put on her nightgown, Mary, and I'll rock her to sleep."
The fancy was so vivid that, to shake it off, she rose and began to move about again. In the middle of the room stood a monumental divan surmounted by a massif of palms and azaleas. As Claudia's muffled wanderings carried her around the angle of this seat, she saw that its farther side was occupied by the figure of a man, who sat with his hands resting on his stick and his head bowed upon them.
Some delightful friends of the Castletons were also spending a holiday in rooms at Chagmouth Miss Lindsay, an artist, and Lorraine Forrester, a chum of Claudia's, both of whom were sketching the quaint streets and the quay and the harbour with the wildest enthusiasm.
Lady Claudia's mind was so seriously affected by the dreadful event, that the doctors refused to answer for the consequences, unless she was at once placed in the strictest retirement. Her mother, and a French maid devotedly attached to her, were the only persons whom it was considered safe for the young lady to see, until time and care had in some degree composed her.
"Nor I, either," laughed Ishmael; "but I know that I can." "But, my boy, it is such a task!" "I should like it, of all things, Uncle Reuben! You could not give me a greater treat than the privilege of overhauling all those books and putting them in order and making the catalogue," said the youth eagerly. And besides he was going to Claudia's house!
As Claudia's sworn knight we have now a claim upon you, and for the short time that you remain here you must regard this as your home, although you must necessarily remain the guest of the doge." "He is a fine young fellow, indeed," Caretto said, after Gervaise had left.
That she should openly acknowledge her son in her position was perhaps not to be expected of any woman. Had she courage enough, or, in plainer words, heart enough to acknowledge him privately? I called to mind again some of the apparent caprices and contradictions in Lady Claudia's conduct, on the memorable day when Michael had presented himself to fill the vacant place.
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