"The second carriage," said Constantia, "looks as if it contained a
prisoner--see, a soldier rides at each door." She turned still paler as
she spoke, and grasped the arm of Lady Frances with all her strength,
though support was required but for a moment. The motion was unnoticed
by her friend, who added in her usually gay tone-"A good guess! And who is in the third? some other caged animal; one of
my father's pet lions, or leopards, or creatures of that sort: pet or no
pet, I would rather see what it contains than all the others put
together--so much for woman's curiosity!"
"The guard are entering the great gates," said Constantia, "and whether
he bring me weal or woe, friend or foe, I must receive the Protector, so
as to show our sense of the more than honour he has done us."
"Constantia!" exclaimed Lady Frances, who still lingered at the window,
"there is a fourth carriage, a foreign-looking one, with an overgrown
boot, and no attendants--coming behind the train, like the last bit of
paper at the tail of a boy's kite. I marvel more than any who that can
contain?"
"Will you not come with me to receive your father?" said Constantia,
extending her hand to her friend. Lady Frances tripped across the room
and took it within hers.
"Constantia, nothing frights you from your propriety!--I am ready."
The sudden, though anticipated visit of the Protector, produced a
proportionate degree of embarrassment and confusion among all the
inmates of Cecil Place. At any other time, the bare intimation of such
an honour would have turned their heads, and inspired their heels with
the alacrity of St. Vitus himself; but they had felt too much interest
in the events of the past week to experience the full joy to which, at
any other time, they would have yielded. As it was, housekeeper, porter,
steward, cook, butler, and their subordinates, set about the necessary
preparations with the dexterity and alertness of servants who know that
their first duty is obedience, not only of their employer's words, but
their wishes:--not one but felt the warmest interest in all that
concerned their dear master, and still more dear mistress; they would
have gladly sacrificed their lives to make her happy: in them was
clearly shown the "constant service of the antique world." Solomon
Grundy, as usual, having the smallest quantity of brains, was the most
noisy, and the least useful, though the creature was affectionate enough
in his way, and, as we have stated, marvellously skilful in his calling.
He stood with the rest of the servants, about twenty in number, who had
assembled to await Cromwell's entrance, and do honour to their young
lady by as numerous and well arranged a show as they could collect. They
were all dressed in deep and decent mourning, except the women of Lady
Frances, who walked behind her to the great entrance, where she and
Constantia stood ready to receive his Highness. As he alighted, the
advanced-guard formed a semicircle beside the carriage; and when his
foot rested on the first step of the entrance-stairs, the two ladies
passed the threshold, to meet him with due respect. It was a picturesque
sight--the meeting of that rugged and warlike man with two such
females;--for Lady Frances, though deficient in what may be termed
regular beauty, had an air and fascination about her that was
exceedingly captivating; and as she waited, one foot a little in
advance, her head thrown back, and the jewels of her clasped stomacher
distinctly marking the outline of her full and graceful bust, she formed
a considerable, but still a pleasing contrast to the high-souled beauty
of her dignified friend. Constantia, at the moment Cromwell alighted,
trembled lest the next person should be Sir Willmott Burrell; and the
terror she naturally felt, lent an air of embarrassment to her pale,
high features, to which they were generally strangers. Her long mourning
veil fell, as usual, to her feet; and the folds of her rich velvet robe
concealed the change which but a little time had wrought in her
exquisitely moulded figure. The arched hall was crowded on either side
by her domestics, whose dresses formed a gloomy back-ground, which,
nevertheless, accorded well with the hatchment that hung over the
entrance,--a memorial of Lady Cecil's recent death. Lady Frances, as she
glanced on the sober, but well-arranged party in front, their bright
armour and broad swords flashing in the light, the prancing of the brave
horses, and the smiling face of her uncle's favourite page--her own
cousin, who followed close to his indulgent master--the mixture of
carriage and cuirass, of spear and pennon, set out against the green
meadows, and still farther off the blue and beautiful sea--all this
looked to her cheerful mind as if hope and happiness were about once
more to enter Cecil Place. The impression was so strong upon her mind,
that she only regretted she could not speak of it to Constantia, who
bent her knee to salute the hand of her friend--the Protector of
England! while he, gallantly removing his hat, raised her from the
ground, and imprinted a grave and respectful kiss upon her brow--then,
having saluted his own daughter after the same fatherly fashion, he
presented a hand to each of the ladies, and walked, bareheaded, into the
hall, returning the salutations of the delighted domestics as he passed,
and inquiring in a low, earnest tone, after the health of his worthy
host and friend, Sir Robert Cecil. As they entered the apartment, in
which a suitable refection had been prepared, Constantia was about to
return to receive her other guests.