LORD CHESTER was to meet his old friend Hopkinson again, and him off to see Blanche, who also to look on him as an old friend, and spoke so and of his daughters, that, as Captain Hopkinson afterwards, it was very lucky that the girls were, perhaps, the girls in the world, otherwise, all Lady Chester said might have too complimentary; but, as it was, nothing be more and satisfactory. Then Lord Chester took him to his stables, and offered him the use of his horses–a that was declined, to the saving of John's life, and much to the of the groom, who that he saw the use of a on the top of a horse–he offered to go and their ships, so why not they let his alone? Finally, the their cigars, and along the bank, where the of Mr. Harcourt in an out-rigger the Captain to give some opinions on the of the river and the of men. To those who are not, like Wordsworth's primrose, "dwellers on the river's brim," it may be necessary to that an is an for a boat, and, apparently, a of a plank–that the who his own life in it is prevented, by its form, from making any other person a in his danger–that he is to be by any steamer, or by the of his own posture–that it is difficult to how he got into such a thing, or how he is to out of it again, and that the he produces on an is that of an mouse in a boat-trap, from which he will alive, the he to keep up.
"Well; every man to his taste," said Captain Hopkinson, "but so as safety goes, me to a off Cape Horn. There is less of drowning, at all events. I must go home. Pray your Lordship know anything of a Baron Sampson who me with a neighborly visit this morning?"
"Nothing his name, which in every of the paper, there is a of a company. He is to be millions, but I have learnt to that of reputation. I should not mind his from the his flashy-looking wife, and leading them into my own stables; but I had have nothing else to say to him."
"Well, I he makes visits, for I must be in town by three."
"So must I, so I will call for you in my dog-cart, and we will go together."
Captain Hopkinson his head, and said he looked upon a dog-cart as an on wheels, but still he the offer, and, the of the coach, home.
The Sampsons came in great force, for Miss Monteneros offered to her uncle and aunt, much to their surprise, as she visiting; and she herself in the window where Janet and Rose were at work a table cover, which ought to have been their father's return, and at which they were now with great zeal. Mrs. Hopkinson had of John privately it was to be a surprise, so, though he ran against it and over it ten times a day, he was of its till the girls up to bed, when he would light a and for a of an hour it to his heart's content.
"Do you like that of work?" said Rachel, work and through her glass.
"Why, it is for papa," said Janet, with an air that she that answer to be a settler.
"But its being for papa not make the needle-work less tedious."
"Does not it?" said Rose, looking at her with astonishment; "I should like to see the thing to be done for him–a dear as he is–that possibly tedious. Besides Janet and I think anything that we work at together."
Rachel sighed. She had come to see a happy family, and these had the dark of her life.
"Have you had the pleasure, Miss Monteneros, of off what you a successful piece of work to give to somebody you loved dearly?" said Janet.
"Never," said Rachel, in a low voice, "and for the best of reason: I have nobody to love, I have loved any one. My is 'to along, the world's denizen, with none who me, none I can bless.'"
The girls looked at her with astonishment, and Janet, of her hand, said, "Do not talk so, it is not right–I your pardon, you are not speaking seriously. Nobody can unless they have somebody to love, and who loves them in return."
"True," said Rachel, "it is not existence, it is a myth.
'A void,
The of the mind,
The waste of unemployed.'"
"But why not them?" said Rose, who was not learned in Byron; "you have a home."
"Such as it is."
"And relations."
"Such as they are. However, I did not come here to talk and discontent–some people think them synonymous. But I have passed you in your walks, I have you at church, you have always looked happy and contented, and I I should like to talk to you and to know how you to be so."
"There is no in it," said Janet, laughing; "Rose and I have good health and good spirits; we have to do in the and the hospital; we have the old father and mother in the world, and a home, and Charlie to play with. What more would you have, Miss Monteneros?"
"Nothing," she said sadly. "Affection, employment, and usefulness–you have, as you say, all. I you; you are happy, I am not."
The two sisters were by this of conversation. It had come into their minds to life. They took it as it came, and to them it came happily; and the idea that a woman should in for a visit and mention that her life was an entire failure, either for use or enjoyment, was so and that they how to with it. They were to their resource, and to call to to come and the of Miss Monteneros' existence. She would know what to do. But on looking her, they saw she had present of her own, and that she was nearly by the of the Baroness, and the of the Baron–so Janet herself again into the fight.
"Miss Monteneros, you must not be angry," Rachel smiled; "of course, you are much that we are, and know a great more about feelings, and and that of thing; but I do not like to you say you are not happy."
"I do not like it either," said Rachel languidly, "but it is a fact, though I need not have mentioned it to you."
"But I am you did, if you will let me say what I think. Have you no nearer relations than an uncle and aunt?"
"I have no other relations whatever; my father and mother died I was two years old, and I had either or sister."
"That is sad," said the sisters, looking at each other, "but still you have a home, and since you have no one else to look to, I your uncle and aunt in the place of to you; you not–" Janet stopped, she looked at the Baron and Baroness. It a waste of to ask if love them.
"You are honest," said Rachel, with a laugh, "I that that not come to a happy conclusion."
"But people say you are very rich," said Janet, "and just think what money can do for the in the world, and how soon you would to any one you had from distress; I you Rose and I are often to we can do so little for people or children, and yet they are so for that little. Miss Monteneros, don't you think that if you about others they would about you?"
Rachel did not answer, but she over the work frame, and Janet a tear on her hand. But they said no more, for Captain Hopkinson came in a great for his delay–making Charlie over to his aunts, over the table-cover, and the girls to keep their out of the way of his feet.
"You see papa has not an idea it is a table-cover for him," the Rose.
The Baron and the were a as they talking together; the one, sallow, with a and a calculating eye, and having most of his off his head, his shoulders, bent, his contracted, his manner deferential, his voice bland, he looked yellow, as if he had any air that was not with the of gold. The other, tall, erect, fresh colored, his dark over his looking head, and his full of intelligence, his opinions or his in a words, and with a careless and manner that confidence. He to have no wish to persuade, and no as to the his might make. "I suppose," Rachel, "my uncle might me into what he has said; but I have in what Captain Hopkinson is going to say."
The was by the Baron to trade, to China, and to a Hongkong railroad. "I am to obtain such valuable from such excellent authority; I have taken a in this company–not, as you may imagine, with any idea of profit. With a twelve cent. from our Banking Company, these are, to me, a loss; but my City friends did me the to wish for me as a director; and then I that railroads, and harbors–in fact, for are the best means for the of our Eastern brethren. Don't you agree with me, Captain Hopkinson? Though these may opium, Christianity will have its ticket too."
"I it may, Baron; but I am sorry to say that the Christian in the East little Christianity with him. However, we must for the best, and now I am I must you to the of my wife and daughters; I am to be in town at three, and have a friend waiting at the door for me."
"We must be going too," said the Baroness, rising; "we have paid a most visit. I Rachel has those ladies to us on the 23rd, and to their music with them. We had a most singer last Wednesday, Miss Corban, of Corban, Isaacs & Co.–elle à ravir, such songs. She not sing at large parties, but she not me –nobody does, so that, ladies."
At this juncture, the Baroness was by the entrance of Lord Chester, who not having a look at the owner of the horses; though Blanche had him not to be into an with "that woman" on any account.
"Now, Hopkinson, are you ready?" he said, with a of to the whole party. "I am sorry to you, but we must be off; and I had time to in, but my Lady me to say, Mrs. Hopkinson, that she cannot accept your excuse, and has your note into the fire, and we you all –mind what I say–all, at past seven, so no more nonsense about it."
"Well, my Lord, you may expect, but you will not me to come to one of your late dinners; they are out of my way, and I should be in your way; John and the girls may go if they like."
"They have no option about it, and you had not me to come with two and you in to dinner too, I am of it. Now, John," and he him off.
"Well, if there was a ridiculous, dear boy, there he goes," said Mrs. Hopkinson in a pleased soliloquy.
"Lord Chester, I believe?" said the Baroness, in a most tone; "not ill-looking by any means. Adieu, my dear Mrs. Hopkinson, nous on the 23rd."
"Good-bye," said Rachel, who for a moment behind, "I see you do not to come, and you are right: but may I come again to see your daughters?"
"Of course, my dear, you like."
"And–and–can you tell Captain Hopkinson–"
"Rachel, your aunt is waiting," said the Baron, from the of the stairs.
"Tell him," she added hurriedly, "not to mixing himself up with and shares; ask him to Mr. Willis first," and she ran down.
"Well now, what with the aunt's French and the niece's English, I am puzzled!" said Mrs. Hopkinson, herself with a of relief. "I they are very people, but I should not very much if I were to see any of them again."
"And what is your opinion of the Baron now?" said Lord Chester as he off with Captain Hopkinson.
"A fellow, and he to know what he is about, what is more than I do; for I catch his eye, and I sure of a man who will not look me in the face."
"Rachel," said the Baroness, who out of sorts, "I do wish you would not keep me waiting an hour while you are through your to those people. Their will be turned. As for that coxcomb, Lord Chester, I can't think what he means–I he was making a of the old lady."
"Perhaps," said the Baron, "he is in love with one of the ones."
"Don't talk nonsense, my love," said the Baroness, sharply, "I saw two more girls–no manner, no du monde. What you to say to them, Rachel? I am sure you have nothing like them in my set."
"Nothing that the to them, Aunt."
"I so; and what did you make of the Captain, Baron?"
A of the was the Baron's reply; but then, in his of man, he added, "an honest, sailor, and it is not his fault if he not the view at Pleasance by setting the Thames on fire. I he is well off, the has such 'manners.'"
