Alice, or the Mysteries — Book 02

								

drawing a chair to, the instrument.
"Do, Evelyn," said Caroline, languidly; "it will serve to bring one of
the servants to us, and save us a journey to the offices."
It was just what Evelyn wished.  Some verses, which her mother especially
loved, verses written by Maltravers upon returning after absence to his
own home, had rushed into her mind as she had touched the keys.  They
were appropriate to the place, and had been beautifully set to music.  So
the children hushed themselves, and nestled at her feet; and after a
little prelude, keeping the accompaniment under, that the spoiled
instrument might not mar the sweet words and sweeter voice, she began the
song.
Meanwhile in the adjoining room, the little study which Caroline had
spoken of, sat the owner of the house!  He had returned suddenly and
unexpectedly the previous night.  The old steward was in attendance at
the moment, full of apologies, congratulations, and gossip; and
Maltravers, grown a stern and haughty man, was already impatiently
turning away, when he heard the sudden sound of the children's laughter
and loud voices in the room beyond.  Maltravers frowned.
"What impertinence is this?" said he in a tone that, though very calm,
made the steward quake in his shoes.
"I don't know, really, your honour; there be so many grand folks come to
see the house in the fine weather, that--"
"And you permit your master's house to be a raree-show?  You do well,
sir."
"If your honour were more amongst us, there might be more discipline
like," said the steward, stoutly; "but no one in my time has cared so
little for the old place as those it belongs to."
"Fewer words with me, sir," said Maltravers, haughtily; "and now go and
inform those people that I am returned, and wish for no guests but those
I invite myself."
"Sir!"
"Do you not hear me?  Say that if it so please them, these old ruins are
my property, and are not to be jobbed out to the insolence of public
curiosity.  Go, sir."
"But--I beg pardon, your honour--if they be great folks?"
"Great folks!--great!  Ay, there it is.  Why, if they be great folks,
they have great houses of their own, Mr. Justis."
The steward stared.  "Perhaps, your honour," he put in, deprecatingly,
"they be Mr. Merton's family: they come very often when the London
gentlemen are with them."
"Merton!--oh, the cringing parson.  Harkye! one word more with me, sir,
and you quit my service to-morrow."
Mr. Justis lifted his eyes and hands to heaven; but there was something
in his master's voice and look which checked reply, and he turned slowly
to the door--when a voice of such heavenly sweetness was heard without
that it arrested his own step and made the stern Maltravers start in his
seat.  He held up his hand to the steward to delay his errand, and
listened, charmed and spell-bound.  His own words came on his ear,--words
long unfamiliar to him, and at first but imperfectly remembered; words