He stops. He cannot for the life of him recollect what the tame animal
was that he was taken to see. He can only recall that it was some beast
not usually kept as a pet, and that it lived in a house in the
stable-yard. Of course if he pauses she will supply the word, and his
lapse of memory need never be perceived.
But he has reckoned without his host. She has indeed turned her face a
little towards him, and says 'Yes?' expectantly.
It is clear that she has not the least intention of helping him; and is
it, or is it not, his fancy that there is a slight ill-natured tremor
about that corner of her mouth which is nearest him?
'A tame--badger,' suggests he desperately.
But the moment that he has uttered the word he knows that it was not a
badger.
'A tame badger!' repeats she slowly, and again gazing straight before
her; 'yes, what a nice pet!'
She is not shy at all, nor even stupid. She is only rude and
malevolent. But he will not give her the satisfaction of letting her see
that he perceives it.
'Perhaps Lady Roupell will have your permission to bring us down to see
you next Sunday, when I may have an opportunity of stroking my old
friend the badger's' (he smiles, as if he had known all along that it
was not a badger) 'head once again.'
'I do not know what Lady Roupell's plans for next Sunday are,' replies
she snubbingly; and so turns, with a decided movement of head and
shoulder, towards her other neighbour, Mr. Evans, who, however, is not
nearly so grateful for her attentions as he should be.
Mr. Evans has the poor and Peggy Lambton always with him, but he has not
a haunch of fat buck-venison more than three times a year. In everyday
life he is more than willing to give his share of the Vicarage dinner to
such among the sick and afflicted of his flock as can be consoled and
supported by underdone shoulders of mutton and batter-puddings; but on
the rare occasions when the opportunity offers of having his palate
titillated by the delicate cates of the higher civilisation, he had very
much rather be left in peace to enjoy them. He has no fault to find in
this respect with Prue Lambton, to whom, as having taken her in to
dinner, he might be supposed to have some conversational obligations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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