Violet Jacob > Flemington

230
FLEMINGTON
things in his old haunts drew him : gossip, the
liberal tables of his former colleagues, the latest
modes in coats and cravats, the musical assem¬
blies at which he had himself performed upon
the flute, the scandals and anecdotes of the
Parliament House and the society of elegant
women. He loved all these, though his trees
and parks had taken their places of late. He
loved James too, and the year they had spent
together had been agreeable to him; but politics
and family affection—the latter of the general
rather than the individual kind—strong as their
bonds were, could not bring the brothers into
true touch with each other. James was pre¬
occupied, silent, restless, and David had some¬
times felt him to be inhuman in his lack of interest
in small things, and in his carelessness of all but
the great events of life. And now, as Balnillo
stepped forth at Lady Anne Maxwell’s door, he
was hugging himself at the prospect of his return
to the trimmings and embroideries of existence.
He walked up the circular staircase, and emerged
into the candle-light of the long, low room in
which his cousin’s guests were assembled.
Lady Anne was a youngish widow, with a
good fortune and a devouring passion for cards.
She had all the means of indulging her taste, for
not only did she know every living being who
went to the making of Edinburgh society, but,
unlike most of her neighbours, she owned the
whole of the house in which she lived, and, con¬
sequently, had space wherein to entertain them.