“Exactly, sir; they differ as do her Ladyship's own habits from those of
every lady in the peerage. I told her so; I begged to set her right on
that subject, at least.”
“Your Lordship's refinement is a most severe standard,” said Linton,
bowing low.
“It should be an example, sir, as well as a chastisement. Indeed, I
believe few would have failed to profit by it.” The air of insolent
pride in which he spoke seemed for an instant to have brought back the
wonted look to his features, and he sat up, with his lips compressed,
and his chin pro-traded, as in his days of yore.
“I would entreat your Lordship to remember,” said Linton, “how few have
studied in the same school you have; how few have enjoyed the intimacy
of 'the most perfect gentleman of all Europe;' and of that small circle,
who is there could have derived the same advantage from the privilege?”
“Your remark is very Just, sir. I owe much--very much--to his Royal
Highness.”
The tone of humility in which he said this was a high treat to the
sardonic spirit of his listener.
“And what a penance to you must be a visit in such a house as this!”
said Linton, with a sigh.
“True, sir; but who induced me to make it? Answer me that.”
Linton started with amazement, for he was very far from supposing
that his Lordship's memory was clear enough to retain the events of an
interview that occurred some months before.
“I never anticipated that it would cost you so dearly, my Lord,” said
he, cautiously, and prepared to give his words any turn events might
warrant. For once, however, the ingenuity was wasted; Lord Kilgoff,
wearied and exhausted by the increased effort of his intellect, had
fallen back in his chair, and, with drooping lips and fallen jaw, sat
the very picture of helpless fatuity.
“So, then,” said Linton, as on tiptoe he stole noiselessly away, “if
your memory was inopportune, it was, at least, very short-lived. And
now, adieu, my Lord, till we want you for another act of the drama.”
CHAPTER IV. MORE KENNYFECK INTRIGUING
We 'll have you at our merry-making, too.
Honeymoon.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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