Part 101 (1/2)

”I have not the slightest intention to deny it.”

”And is it possible, Mr. M'Kinlay, that nothing of what I have just mentioned was dropped during the dinner? No allusion to the beautiful Miss Luttrell, or Mrs. Ladarelle? Mr. Grenfell is in doubt which to call her.”

”Not a syllable; her name was never-uttered.”

”And what did you talk of, in Heaven's name!” cried she, impatiently.

”Was it town gossip and scandal?”

For a moment Mr. M'Kinlay was almost scared by her impetuosity, but he rallied, and a.s.sured her that Sir Within spoke with the warmest interest of Sir Gervais, and alluded in the most cordial way to their old relations of friends.h.i.+p, and with what pleasure he would renew them. ”He charged me with innumerable kind messages, and almost his last word was a hope that he should be fortunate enough to meet you again.”

”And through all this no mention of the 'beauty'--I mean, of Miss Luttrell?”

”Not a word.”

”How strange--how incomprehensible!” said she, pausing, and seeming to reflect.

”Remember, my dear Miss Courtenay, it was a very hurried meeting altogether. We dined at half-past six, and at ten I was on the railroad.”

”Did Sir Within strike you as looking so very ill--so much cut upas Mr.

Grenfell phrases it?”

”I thought him looking remarkably well; for a man of his age, wonderfully well. He must be--let me see--he must be--not very far from eighty.1'

”Not within ten years of it, Sir, I'm confident,” broke she in, almost fiercely. ”There is no error more common than to overrate the age of distinguished men. The public infers that familiarity with their name implies long acquaintance, and it is a most absurd mistake.”

Now, Mr. M'Kinlay thoroughly understood that he was typified under that same public, who only knew great men by report, and misrepresented them through ignorance. He was, however, so strong in ”his brief,” that he would not submit to be put down; he had taken pains to look over a record of Sir Within's services, and had seen that he was attached to the Russian emba.s.sy fifty-two years ago.

”What do you say to that, Miss Courtenay? Fifty-two years ago.”

”I say, Sir, that I don't care for arithmetic, and never settle any question by a reference to mere figures. When I last saw Sir Within he was in the prime of life, and if great social talents and agreeability were to be any test, one of the youngest persons of the company.”

”Oh, I'm the first to extol his conversational powers. He is a perfect mine of good stories.”

”I detest good stories. I like conversation, I like reply, rejoinder, even amplification at times; anecdote is almost always a mistake.”

Mr. M'Kinlay was aghast. How disagreeable he must have made himself, to render her so sharp and so incisive all at once.

”I can say all this to _you_,” said she, with a sweet tone, ”for it is a fault you never commit. And so, you remark, that Sir Within showed no remarkable gloom or depression--nothing, in fact, that argued he had met with any great shock?”

”My impression was, that I sow him in high spirits and in the best possible health.”

”I thought so!” cried she, almost triumphantly. ”I declare I thought so!” But why she thought so, or what she thought, or how it could be matter of such pleasure, she did not go on to explain. After a moment, she resumed: ”And was there nothing said about why he had left Dalradern, and what induced him to come abroad?”

”Nothing--positively nothing.”

”Well,” said she, with a haughty toss of her head, ”it is very possible that the whole subject occupies a much larger s.p.a.ce in Mr. Grenfell's letter than in Sir Within's mind; and, for my own part, I only inquired about the matter as it was once the cause of a certain coldness, a half estrangement between Dalradern and ourselves, and which, as my brother takes much pleasure in Sir Within's society, I rejoice to perceive exists no longer.”

All this was a perfect riddle to Mr. M'Kinlay, who had nothing for it but to utter a wise sentiment on the happiness of reconciliation. Even this was unfortunate, for she tartly told him that ”there could be no reconciliation where there was no quarrel;” and then dryly added, ”Is it not cold out here?”