Domestic fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction
It really was the Marquis. It seemed to the ladies to be a very long
time indeed before he got into the room, so leisurely was he in
divesting himself of his furs and comforters. During this time the
Marchioness would have rushed into the hall had not Lady Sarah
prevented her. The old lady was quite overcome with emotion, and
prepared to lay at the feet of her eldest son, if he would only extend
to her the slightest sign of affection. "So, here you all are," he said
as he entered the room. "It isn't much of a house for you, but you
would have it so." He was of course forced to kiss his mother, but the
kiss was not very fervent in its nature. To each of his sisters he
merely extended his hand. This Amelia received with empressement; for,
after all, severe though he was, nevertheless he was the head of the
family. Susanna measured the pressure which he gave, and returned back
to him the exact weight. Lady Sarah made a little speech. "We are very
glad to see you; Brotherton. You have been away a long time."
"A deuced long time."
"I hope your wife is well;--and the little boy. When will she wish that
we should go and see her?" The Marchioness during this time had got
possession of his left hand, and from her seat was gazing up into his
face. He was a very handsome man, but pale, worn, thin, and apparently
unhealthy. He was very like Lord George, but smaller in feature, and
wanting full four inches of his brother's height. Lord George's hair
was already becoming grey at the sides. That of the Marquis, who was
ten years older, was perfectly black;--but his Lordship's valet had
probably more to do with that than nature. He wore an exquisite
moustache, but in other respects was close shaven. He was dressed with
great care, and had fur even on the collar of his frock coat, so much
did he fear the inclemency of his native climate.
"She doesn't speak a word of English, you know," he said, answering his
sister's question.
"We might manage to get on in French," said Lady Sarah.
"She doesn't speak a word of French either. She never was out of Italy
till now. You had better not trouble yourselves about her."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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