Part 31 (1/2)

”Mrs Proudie, would you excuse me? I must positively go and say a few words to Mrs Barlow, or the poor woman will feel herself huffed;”

and, so saying, she moved off, leaving the coast clear for Master Frank.

He of course slipped into his aunt's place, and expressed a hope that Miss Dunstable was not fatigued by her journey.

”Fatigued!” said she, in a voice rather loud, but very good-humoured, and not altogether unpleasing; ”I am not to be fatigued by such a thing as that. Why, in May we came through all the way from Rome to Paris without sleeping--that is, without sleeping in a bed--and we were upset three times out of the sledges coming over the Simplon. It was such fun! Why, I wasn't to say tired even then.”

”All the way from Rome to Paris!” said Mrs Proudie--in a tone of astonishment, meant to flatter the heiress--”and what made you in such a hurry?”

”Something about money matters,” said Miss Dunstable, speaking rather louder than usual. ”Something to do with the ointment. I was selling the business just then.”

Mrs Proudie bowed, and immediately changed the conversation.

”Idolatry is, I believe, more rampant than ever in Rome,” said she; ”and I fear there is no such thing at all as Sabbath observance.”

”Oh, not in the least,” said Miss Dunstable, with rather a joyous air; ”Sundays and week-days are all the same there.”

”How very frightful!” said Mrs Proudie.

”But it's a delicious place. I do like Rome, I must say. And as for the Pope, if he wasn't quite so fat he would be the nicest old fellow in the world. Have you been in Rome, Mrs Proudie?”

Mrs Proudie sighed as she replied in the negative, and declared her belief that danger was to be apprehended from such visits.

”Oh!--ah!--the malaria--of course--yes; if you go at the wrong time; but n.o.body is such a fool as that now.”

”I was thinking of the soul, Miss Dunstable,” said the lady-bishop, in her peculiar, grave tone. ”A place where there are no Sabbath observances--”

”And have you been in Rome, Mr Gresham?” said the young lady, turning almost abruptly round to Frank, and giving a somewhat uncivilly cold shoulder to Mrs Proudie's exhortation. She, poor lady, was forced to finish her speech to the Honourable George, who was standing near to her. He having an idea that bishops and all their belongings, like other things appertaining to religion, should, if possible, be avoided; but if that were not possible, should be treated with much a.s.sumed gravity, immediately put on a long face, and remarked that--”it was a deuced shame: for his part he always liked to see people go quiet on Sundays. The parsons had only one day out of seven, and he thought they were fully ent.i.tled to that.” Satisfied with which, or not satisfied, Mrs Proudie had to remain silent till dinner-time.

”No,” said Frank; ”I never was in Rome. I was in Paris once, and that's all.” And then, feeling a not unnatural anxiety as to the present state of Miss Dunstable's worldly concerns, he took an opportunity of falling back on that part of the conversation which Mrs Proudie had exercised so much tact in avoiding.

”And was it sold?” said he.

”Sold! what sold?”

”You were saying about the business--that you came back without going to bed because of selling the business.”

”Oh!--the ointment. No; it was not sold. After all, the affair did not come off, and I might have remained and had another roll in the snow. Wasn't it a pity?”

”So,” said Frank to himself, ”if I should do it, I should be owner of the ointment of Lebanon: how odd!” And then he gave her his arm and handed her down to dinner.

He certainly found that the dinner was less dull than any other he had sat down to at Courcy Castle. He did not fancy that he should ever fall in love with Miss Dunstable; but she certainly was an agreeable companion. She told him of her tour, and the fun she had in her journeys; how she took a physician with her for the benefit of her health, whom she generally was forced to nurse; of the trouble it was to her to look after and wait upon her numerous servants; of the tricks she played to bamboozle people who came to stare at her; and, lastly, she told him of a lover who followed her from country to country, and was now in hot pursuit of her, having arrived in London the evening before she left.

”A lover?” said Frank, somewhat startled by the suddenness of the confidence.

”A lover--yes--Mr Gresham; why should I not have a lover?”

”Oh!--no--of course not. I dare say you have a good many.”

”Only three or four, upon my word; that is, only three or four that I favour. One is not bound to reckon the others, you know.”

”No, they'd be too numerous. And so you have three whom you favour, Miss Dunstable;” and Frank sighed, as though he intended to say that the number was too many for his peace of mind.