A Fair Barbarian

Chapter 10

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Lady Theobald's invited guests sat in the faded blue drawing-room,

waiting. Everybody had been unusually prompt, perhaps because

everybody wished to be on the ground in time to see Miss Octavia

Bassett make her entrance.

"It is but natural that she should feel that Lady Theobald will regard

her rather critically, and that she should know that American manners

will hardly be the thing for a genteel and conservative English country

town."

"We saw her a few days ago," said Lucia, who chanced to hear this

speech, "and she is very pretty. I think I never saw any one so very

pretty before."

"I have seen so very few theatrical people," Lucia answered sweetly,

"that I scarcely know what the theatrical way is, dear Mrs. Burnham. Her

dress was very beautiful, and not like what we wear in Slowbridge; but

she seemed to me to be very bright and pretty, in a way quite new to me,

and so just a little odd."

"I have heard that her dress is most extravagant and wasteful," put in

Miss Pilcher, whose educational position entitled her to the

condescending respect of her patronesses. "She has lace on her morning

gowns, which"--

Lady Theobald rose from her seat. A slight rustle made itself heard

through the company, as the ladies all turned toward the entrance; and,

after they had so turned, there were evidences of a positive thrill.

Before the eyes of all, Belinda Bassett advanced with rich ruffles of

Mechlin at her neck and wrists, with a delicate and distinctly novel cap

upon her head, her niece following her with an unabashed face, twenty

pounds' worth of lace on her dress, and unmistakable diamonds in her

little ears.

But this was a very severe term to use, notwithstanding that it was born

of righteous indignation. It was not boldness at all: it was only the

serenity of a young person who was quite unconscious that there was any

thing to fear in the rather unimposing party before her. Octavia was

accustomed to entering rooms full of strangers. She had spent several

years of her life in hotels, where she had been stared out of countenance

by a few score new people every day. She was even used to being, in some

sort, a young person of note. It was nothing unusual for her to know that

she was being pointed out. "That pretty blonde," she often heard it said,

"is Martin Bassett's daughter: sharp fellow, Bassett,--and lucky fellow

too; more money than he can count."

So she was not at all frightened when she walked in behind Miss Belinda.

She glanced about her cheerfully, and, catching sight of Lucia, smiled at

her as she advanced up the room. The call of state Lady Theobald had made

with her grand-daughter had been a very brief one; but Octavia had taken

a decided fancy to Lucia, and was glad to see her again.

"Quite well, thank you," murmured Miss Belinda again. "_Very_ well

indeed;" rather as if this fortunate state of affairs was the result of

her ladyship's kind intervention with the fates.

She felt terribly conscious of being the centre of observation, and

rather overpowered by the novelty of her attire, which was plainly

creating a sensation. Octavia, however, who was far more looked at, was

entirely oblivious of the painful prominence of her position. She

remained standing in the middle of the room, talking to Lucia, who had

approached to greet her. She was so much taller than Lucia, that she

looked very tall indeed by contrast, and also very wonderfully dressed.

Lucia's white muslin was one of Miss Chickie's fifteen, and was, in a

"genteel" way, very suggestive of Slowbridge. Suspended from Octavia's

waist by a long loop of the embroidered ribbon, was a little round fan,

of downy pale-blue feathers, and with this she played as she talked; but

Lucia, having nothing to play with, could only stand with her little

hands hanging at her sides.

"I am not sure that I know what a kettle-drum is," Lucia answered. "They

have them in London, I think; but I have never been to London."

"They have them in New York," said Octavia; "and they are a crowded sort

of afternoon parties, where ladies go in carriage-toilet, not evening

dress. People are rushing in and out all the time."

She was not afraid, any longer, of finding the evening stupid. If there

were no young men, there was at least a young woman who was in sympathy

with her. She said,--

"Oh!" said Lucia, with a rather alarmed expression, "I hope so. I--I am

afraid you would not be comfortable if you didn't."

"If they say you are giddy," said Lucia, "your fate will be sealed; and,

if you are to stay here, it really will be better to try to please them

a little."

"I don't mean to _dis_please them," she said, "unless they are very

easily displeased. I suppose I don't think very much about what people

are saying of me. I don't seem to notice."

"Will you come now and let me introduce Miss Egerton and her sister?"

suggested Lucia hurriedly. "Grandmamma is looking at us."

In the innocence of her heart Octavia glanced at Lady Theobald, and

saw that she was looking at them, and with a disapproving air. "I

wonder what that's for?" she said to herself; but she followed Lucia

across the room.

She made the acquaintance of the Misses Egerton, who seemed rather

fluttered, and, after the first exchange of civilities, subsided into

monosyllables and attentive stares. They were, indeed, very anxious to

hear Octavia converse, but had not the courage to attempt to draw her

out, unless a sudden query of Miss Lydia's could be considered such an

attempt.

Miss Lydia Egerton and Miss Violet Egerton each regarded her in dubious

silence for a moment. They did not think she looked as if she were

"clever;" but the speech sounded to both as if she were, and as if she

meant to be clever a little at their expense.

Naturally, after that they felt slightly uncomfortable, and said less

than before; and conversation lagged to such an extent that Octavia was

not sorry when tea was announced.

And it so happened that tea was not the only thing announced. The ladies

had all just risen from their seats with a gentle rustle, and Lady

Theobald was moving forward to marshal her procession into the

dining-room, when Dobson appeared at the door again.

Everybody glanced first at the door, and then at Lady Theobald. Mr.

Francis Barold crossed the threshold, followed by the tall,

square-shouldered builder of mills, who was a strong, handsome man, and

bore himself very well, not seeming to mind at all the numerous eyes

fixed upon him.

"I did not know," said Barold, "that we should find you had guests. Beg

pardon, I'm sure, and so does Burmistone, whom I had the pleasure of

meeting at Broadoaks, and who was good enough to invite me to return with

him." Lady Theobald extended her hand to the gentleman specified.

Mr. Francis Barold naturally turned, as her ladyship uttered her

granddaughter's name in a tone of command. It may be supposed that his

first intention in turning was to look at Lucia; but he had scarcely done

so, when his attention was attracted by the figure nearest to her,--the

figure of a young lady, who was playing with a little blue fan, and

smiling at him brilliantly and unmistakably.

The next moment he was standing at Octavia Bassett's side, looking rather

pleased, and the blood of Slowbridge was congealing, as the significance

of the situation was realized.

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