"Oh, you think so, Streatfield?" Lady Bracondale exclaimed, in a worried
voice. "Now that we have got him back we must take great care of him.
His lordship will join me at the opera. Are you sure he likes those
aigrettes in my hair?"
"Why, it's one of his lordship's favorite styles, my lady. You need have
no fears," said the maid.
And thus comforted, Lady Bracondale descended the great staircase to her
carriage.
She was still a beautiful woman, though well past fifty. Her splendid,
dark hair had hardly a thread of gray in it, and grew luxuriantly, but
she insisted upon wearing it simply parted in the middle and coiled in a
mass of plaits behind, while one braid stood up coronet fashion well at
the back of her head. She was addicted to rich satins and velvets, and
had a general air of Victorian repose and decorum. There was no attempt
to retain departed youth; no golden wigs or red and white paint
disfigured her person, which had an immense natural dignity and
stateliness. It made her shiver to see some of her contemporaries
dressed and arranged to represent not more than twenty years of age. But
so many modern ways of thought and life jarred upon her!
"Mother is still in the early seventies; she has never advanced a step
since she came out," Anne always said, "and I dare say she was behind
the times even then."
Meanwhile, Hector was dressing in his luxurious mahogany-panelled room.
Everything in the house was solid and prosperous, as befitted a family
who had had few reverses and sufficient perspicacity to marry a rich
heiress now and then at right moments in their history.
This early Georgian house had been in the then Lady Bracondale's dower,
and still retained its fine carvings and Old-World state.
"How shall I see her again?" was all the thought which ran in Lord
Bracondale's head.
"She won't be at a ball, but she might chance to have thought of the
opera. It would be a place Mr. Brown would like to exhibit her at. I
shall certainly go."
Lady Anningford was tucked up on a sofa in her little sitting-room when
her brother arrived at her charming house in Charles Street. Her husband
had been sent off to a dinner without her, and she was expecting her
brother with impatience. She loved Hector as many sisters do a handsome,
popular brother, but rather more than that, and she had fine senses and
understood him.
She did not cover him with caresses and endearments when she saw him;
she never did.