Miss Joliffe must have had a protracted conversation with Lord
Blandamer. To Anastasia, waiting in the kitchen, it seemed as if her
aunt would never come down. She devoted herself to "Northanger Abbey" with fierce resolution, but though her eyes followed the lines of type, she had no idea what she was reading, and found herself at last turning the pages so frequently and with so much rustling as to disturb her own reverie. Then she shut the book with a bang, got up from her chair, and paced the kitchen till her aunt came back.
Miss Joliffe was full of the visitor's affability.
"It is always the way with these really great people, my dear," she
said with effusion. "I have always noticed that the nobility are
condescending; they adapt themselves so entirely to their surroundings." Miss Joliffe fell into a common hyperbole in qualifying an isolated action as a habit. She had never before been brought face to face with a peer, yet she represented her first impression of Lord Blandamer's manner as if it were a mature judgment based upon long experience of those of his rank and position.
"I insisted on his using the presentation inkstand, and took away that
shabby little black thing; and I could see at once that the silver one
was far more like what he had been accustomed to use. He seemed to know
something about us, and even asked if the young lady who had shown him
in was my niece. That was you; he meant you, Anastasia; he asked if it
was you. I think he must have met dear Martin somewhere, but I really
was so agitated by such a very unexpected visit that I scarcely took in
all he said. Yet he was so careful all the time to put me at my ease
that at last I ventured to ask him if he would take some light
refreshment. 'My lord,' I said, 'may I be so bold as to offer your
lordship a cup of tea? It would be a great honour if you would partake
of our humble hospitality.' And what do you think he answered, my
dear? 'Miss Joliffe'—and he had such a winning look—'there is nothing
I should like better. I am very tired with walking about in the church, and have still some little time to wait, for I am going to London by the evening train.' Poor young man! (for Lord Blandamer was still young in Cullerne, which had only known his octogenarian predecessor) he is no doubt called to London on some public business—the House of Lords, or the Court, or something like that. I wish he would take as much care of himself as he seems to take for others. He looks so very tired, and a sad face too, Anastasia, and yet is most considerate. 'I should like a cup of tea very much'—those were his exact words—'but you must not trouble to come all the way upstairs again to bring it to me. Let me come down and take it with you.'
"'Forgive me, my lord,' was my answer, 'but I could not permit that. Our establishment is much too homely, and I shall feel it a privilege to wait on you, if you will kindly excuse my walking-clothes, as I have just come back from an afternoon meeting. My niece often wishes to relieve me, but I tell her my old legs are more active than her young ones even still.'"
Anastasia's cheeks were red, but she said nothing, and her aunt went on: "So I will take him some tea at once. You can make it, my dear, if you like, but put a great deal more in than we use ourselves. The upper classes have no call to practise economy in such matters, and he is no doubt used to take his tea very strong. I think Mr Sharnall's teapot is the best, and I will get out the silver sugar-tongs and one of the spoons with the 'J' on them."
As Miss Joliffe was taking up the tea, she met Westray in the hall. He
had just come back from the church, and was not a little concerned at
his landlady's greeting. She put down her tray, and, with a fateful
gesture and an "Oh, Mr Westray, what do you think?" beckoned him aside
into Mr Sharnall's room. His first impression was that some grave
accident had happened, that the organist was dead, or that Anastasia
Joliffe had sprained an ankle; and he was relieved to hear the true
state of affairs. He waited a few minutes while Miss Joliffe took the
visitor his tea, and then went upstairs himself.
Lord Blandamer rose.