A HOUSE DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF BY MRS OLIPHANT IN THREE VOLUMES VOL. III. WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS EDINBURGH AND LONDON MDCCCLXXXVI A HOUSE DIVIDED AGAINST ITSELF. CHAPTER XXXIII. Lady Markham received young Gaunt with the most gracious kindness: had his mother seen him seated in the drawing-room at Eaton Square, with Frances hovering about him full of pleasure and questions, and her mother insisting that he should stay to luncheon, and Markham’s hansom just drawing up at the door, she would have thought her boy on the highway to fortune. The sweetness of the two ladies--the happy eagerness of Frances, and Lady Markham’s grace and graciousness--had a soothing effect upon the young man. He had been unwilling to come, as he was unwilling to go anywhere at this crisis of his life; but it soothed him, and filled him with a sort of painful and bitter pleasure to be thus surrounded by all that was most familiar to Constance,--by her mother and sister, and all their questions about her. These questions, indeed, it was hard upon him to be obliged to answer; but yet that pain was the best thing that now remained to him, he said to himself. To hear her name, and all those allusions to her, to be in the rooms where she had spent her life--all this gave food to his longing fancy, and wrung, yet soothed, his heart. “My dear, you will worry Captain Gaunt with your questions; and I don’t know those good people, Tasie and the rest: you must let me have my turn now. Tell me about my daughter, Captain Gaunt. She is not a very good correspondent. She gives few details of her life; and it must be so very different from life here. Does she seem to enjoy herself? Is she happy and bright? I have longed so much to see some one, impartial, whom I could ask.” Impartial! If they only knew! “She is always bright,” he said with a suppressed passion, the meaning of which Frances divined suddenly, almost with a cry, with a start and thrill of sudden certainty, which took away her breath. “But for happy, I cannot tell. It is not good enough for her, out there.” “No? Thank you, Captain Gaunt, for appreciating my child. I was afraid it was not much of a sphere for her. What company has she? Is there anything going on----?” “Mamma,” said Frances, “I told you--there is never anything going on.” The young soldier shook his head. “There is no society--except the Durants--and ourselves--who are not interesting,” he said, with a somewhat ghastly smile. “The Durants are the clergyman’s family?--and yourselves. I think she might have been worse off. I am sure Mrs Gaunt has been kind to my wayward girl,” she said, looking him in the face with that charming smile.