The ladies talked a good deal, but Florimel was not
in earnest about anything, and for Clementina to have
turned the conversation upon those possibilities,
dim dawning through the chaos of her world, which
had begun to interest her, would have been absurd—especially
since such was her confusion and uncertainty, that
she could not tell whether they were clouds or mountains,
shadows or continents. Besides, why give a child
sovereigns to play with when counters or dominoes
would do as well? Clementina’s thoughts
could not have passed into Florimel, and become her
thoughts. Their hearts, their natures must come
nearer first. Advise Florimel to disregard rank,
and marry the man she loved! As well counsel the
child to give away the cake he would cry for with
intensified selfishness the moment he had parted with
it! Still, there was that in her feeling for
Malcolm which rendered her doubtful in Florimel’s
presence.
Between the grooms little passed. Griffith’s
contempt for Malcolm found its least offensive expression
in silence, its most offensive in the shape of his
countenance. He could not make him the simplest
reply without a sneer. Malcolm was driven to keep
mostly behind. If by any chance he got in front
of his fellow groom, Griffith would instantly cross
his direction and ride between him and the ladies.
His look seemed to say he had to protect them.
CHAPTER XLVI: PORTLAND PLACE
The latter part of the journey was not so pleasant:
it rained. It was not cold, however, and the
ladies did not mind it much. It accorded with
Clementina’s mood; and as to Florimel, but for
the thought of meeting Caley, her fine spirits would
have laughed the weather to scorn. Malcolm was
merry. His spirits always rose at the appearance
of bad weather, as indeed with every show of misfortune
a response antagonistic invariably awoke in him.
On the present occasion he had even to repress the
constantly recurring impulse to break out in song.
His bosom’s lord sat lightly in his throne.
Griffith was the only miserable one of the party.
He was tired, and did not relish the thought of the
work to be done before getting home. They entered
London in a wet fog, streaked with rain, and dyed
with smoke. Florimel went with Clementina for
the night, and Malcolm carried a note from her to
Lady Bellair, after which, having made Kelpie comfortable,
he went to his lodgings.
When he entered the curiosity shop, the woman received
him with evident surprise, and when he would have
passed through to the stair, stopped him with the
unwelcome information that, finding he did not return,
and knowing nothing about himself or his occupation,
she had, as soon as the week for which he had paid
in advance was out, let the room to an old lady from
the country.
“It is no great matter to me,” said Malcolm,
thoughtful over the woman’s want of confidence
in him, for he had rather liked her, “only I
am sorry you could not trust me a little.”
Copyrights
The Marquis of Lossie from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.