"Good morning, Lady Dove. I must hurry off. My aunts will be waiting."
"Tell dear Mrs. Hamilton that I shall expect her to take pity on me this evening. Good-bye; so kind of you to have come."
Lewis hurried home in no enviable mood, and he slashed the unoffending hemlock heads with savage fury, wishing he were inflicting punishment "on that old cat."
"She meant me to understand her insinuations, of course. Well, she need not be afraid. Of course I saw through her; I'm not a blind ass."
When Lewis Waycott entered the dining-room of Waycott Hall the same people were seated at the table as on the memorable day when Toney had rushed in late to luncheon. These were his devoted Aunt Honoria and her widowed sister, Mrs. Hamilton, who was somewhat of a "soft pussy cat," as Toney had once described her. Her two daughters, Jeanie and Maud, were still unmarried, much to her disappointment. Jeanie played first violin at amateur concerts, and Maud, with less talent, stepped into the breach when somebody had failed. The sisters belonged to the large army of musical people whose performances are just not good enough to be valuable, though Jeanie had real talent. Maud was pretty and gentle, but both sisters had imbibed their mother's pride of birth, all the greater because of their poverty. Mrs. Hamilton was a Waycott of Waycott Hall, and her husband belonged to a very old Scotch family. They might be poor, but they were of the bluest blood, and because of this Jeanie had ruined her happiness. Four years ago a musician who was "nobody in particular," except that his genius had raised him to eminence, had fallen in love with Jeanie and had made her an offer, but the Hamilton pride prevented her saying yes. She did not even dare tell her mother she loved him. How could Jeanie Hamilton marry a man whose parents had once kept a shop? It was impossible! The ghost of that shop haunted her, even though Frank Weston had long since pensioned his parents. Certainly the great people idolized Frank Weston, crowds filled any hall where he chose to play his violin, but how could Jeanie Hamilton accept his parents? Mrs. Hamilton gently smiled as she said, "Impossible."
Frank Weston was not poor, for he earned a great deal of money, but he was born a plebeian. Mrs. Hamilton had repeated and dictated Jeanie's refusal for her, and he had not even the satisfaction of seeing again the girl he worshipped. He had, however, guessed the truth, and, deeply wounded, he made no further effort to win her, but he could not forget her. On her part, Jeanie was always arguing the question with herself. Of course her mother had been right, but as time went on the girl began to realise that she had thrown away her happiness. Her heart was breaking and her health was giving way. Maud, too, was as soft wax in her mother's hands, and Mrs. Hamilton meant her to marry her cousin Lewis, and to be the mistress of Waycott Hall. She had taken the girls to Dresden to finish their musical education, but now she had come back intending to marry Maud to Lewis and find a suitable match for Jeanie. When Aunt Delia determined to do something she was seldom known to fail, but she never mentioned it to her sister Honoria, because she was so supremely happy as mistress of Waycott Hall that she did not wish her beloved nephew to marry anyone--at least, not yet, though of course the time for marriage must come some day, in order to carry on the succession of the old family of the Waycotts of Waycott Hall.