"Quite, my love, and used to do my sums for me. But let me present to you a young friend of mine, Mr.—Mr.—dear, dear! I quite forget—my memory is going, you see, Letitia! Mr.—"
"Beverley, madam," said Barnabas.
"Thank you,—Beverley, of course! Mr. Beverley—the Countess of Orme."
Hereupon Barnabas bowed low before the haughty stare of the keen, hawk-like eyes.
"And now, my sweet Letty," continued the Duchess, "you are always so delightfully gossipy—have you any news,—any stories to laugh over?"
"No, dear Fanny, neither the one nor the other—only—"
"'Only,' my love?"
"Only—but you've heard it already, of course,—you would be the very first to know of it!"
"Letitia, my dear—I always hated conundrums, you'll remember."
"I mean, every one is talking of it, already."
"Heigho! How warm the sun is!"
"Of course it may be only gossip, but they do say Cleone Meredith has refused the hand of your grandnephew."
"Jerningham, oh yes," added the Duchess, "on the whole, it's just as well."
"But I thought—" the hawk-eyes were very piercing indeed. "I feared it would be quite a blow to you—"
The Duchess shook her head, with a little ripple of laughter.
"I had formed other plans for him weeks ago,—they were quite unsuited to each other, my love."
"I'm delighted you take it so well, my own Fanny," said the Countess, looking the reverse. "We leave almost immediately,—but when you pass through Sevenoaks, you must positively stay with me for a day or two. Goodby, my sweet Fanny!" So the two ancient ladies gravely curtsied to each other, pecked each other on either cheek, and, with a bow to Barnabas, the Countess swept away with an imposing rustle of her voluminous skirts.
"Cat!" exclaimed the Duchess, shaking her fan at the receding figure; "the creature hates me fervently, and consequently, kisses me—on both cheeks. Oh, yes, indeed, sir, she detests me—and quite naturally. You see, we were girls together,—she's six months my junior, and has never let me forget it,—and the Duke—God rest him—admired us both, and, well,—I married him. And so Cleone has actually refused poor Jerningham,—the yellow-maned minx!"
"Why, then—you didn't know of it?" inquired Barnabas.
"Oh, Innocent! of course I didn't. I'm not omniscient, and I only ordered him to propose an hour ago. The golden hussy! the proud jade! Refuse my grand-nephew indeed! Well, there's one of your rivals disposed of, it seems,—count that to your advantage, sir!"
"But," said Barnabas, frowning and shaking his head, "Sir Mortimer
Carnaby has her promise!"
"Fiddlesticks!"
"She gave him the rose!" said Barnabas, between set teeth. The
Duchess tittered.
"Dear heart! how tragic you are!" she sighed. "Suppose she did,—what then? And besides—hum! This time it is young D'Arcy, it seems,—callow, pink, and quite harmless."
"Madam?" said Barnabas, wondering.
"Over there—behind the marble faun,—quite harmless, and very pink, you'll notice. I mean young D'Arcy—not the faun. Clever minx! Now I mean Cleone, of course—there she is!" Following the direction of the Duchess's pointing fan, Barnabas saw Cleone, sure enough. Her eyes were drooped demurely before the ardent gaze of the handsome, pink-cheeked young soldier who stood before her, and in her white fingers she held—a single red rose. Now, all at once, (and as though utterly unconscious of the burning, watchful eyes of Barnabas) she lifted the rose to her lips, and, smiling, gave it into the young soldier's eager hand. Then they strolled away, his epaulette very near the gleaming curls at her temple.
"Lud, young sir!" exclaimed the Duchess, catching Barnabas by the coat, "how dreadfully sudden you are in your movements—"
"Madam, pray loose me!"
"Why?"
"I'm going—I cannot bear—any more!"
"You mean—?"
"I mean that—she has—"
"A very remarkable head, she is as resourceful as I was—almost."
"Resourceful!" exclaimed Barnabas, "she is—"
"An extremely clever girl—"
"Madam, pray let me go."
"No, sir! my finger is twisted in your buttonhole,—if you pull yourself away I expect you'll break it, so pray don't pull; naturally, I detest pain. And I have much to talk about."
"As you will, madam," said Barnabas, frowning.
