“Oh dear, yes,” said Cissy, “unexceptionably good in every respect. In fact, I fancy he is something of a prig and not half so attractive as his brother was. And besides, Sir Ralph has not been very much with his own family. John Severn was splendidly handsome, George has often told me. A grand, tall, fair man, and with the most winning manners. The sort of man who did everything well; riding and shooting and all those sorts of things you know. No wonder his mother was proud of him! Whereas Ralph is quite different, quite unlike his family, for they are all remarkably handsome people, and he is not at all so, I should say. Dark and sallow and gloomy looking. Horribly learned too, I believe. A great antiquary, and able to read all the languages of the Tower of Babel, I’ve been told. So he’s sure to be fusty and musty. He spent several years poking about for all manner of old books and manuscripts somewhere in the East.” “How do you happen to know so much about him? Did you ever see him?” enquired Marion.” “Yes, once, on our way to India, he met us at Cairo. He had been vice-consul somewhere, I think, but when I saw him he was in the middle of his poking for these dirty old books. I thought him a great bore, but George rather liked him. He had not the slightest idea then of getting the title, and I believe he hates having it. But I declare, Marion, we have been chattering so about the Severns that we haven’t said a word about our plans.” Whereupon ensued a Bradshaw and Murray discussion, in which Cissy, having previously crammed for the occasion, came out very strong. Marion felt dull and depressed, but glad that her cousin’s pre-occupation prevented her observing that she was less lively than usual. The shopping was at last satisfactorily executed. Just as they were about to separate at Mr. Vere’s door, Marion remembered a message which her father had charged her to deliver to Mrs. Archer. “Oh, Cissy!” she exclaimed, “Papa said I was to tell you that instead of leaving money with me here for my expenses, he has sent some to Paris, so that you won’t have any trouble about the exchange. I was to ask you when we got there, to call at somebody or other’s bank, I have the name written down, and there you will find fifty pounds waiting for you to use for me. And then Papa wants you, after getting to Altes, to make a sort of calculation as to what my expenses will be, and he will send whatever sum you need.” “Awful prospect!” exclaimed Cissy. “Imagine me drawing out a set of what do you call them?—statistics, isn’t that the word?—for Uncle Vere, as to the average prices and probable amount of bread, meat, fruit, &c, likely to be consumed by a young lady with a healthy appetite in the course of six months. I declare I can’t do it, Marion, but we’ll see when we get there. So good bye till tomorrow morning. I needn’t impress upon such a model as you the expediency of being ready in time, and not forgetting your keys.”