“It would be very unsuitable for a lady,” began the earl,—
“Unless her lord would accompany her,” said Annabella, archly; “we might obtain as fine a view as from Mont Blanc, without all the trouble of climbing.”
The earl always winced under any allusion to his mountain adventure.
“But then,” continued Annabella maliciously, “it would never do to get giddy,—suspended between earth and sky,—there would be no hope of the friendly intervention of a lady’s boa!”
“I should not have the slightest objection, not the slightest,” repeated the irritated earl, “to go in a balloon to-morrow; indeed, I think it very probable that I shall make one of Augustine’s party.”
Annabella was diverted to see that she had succeeded in putting her haughty lord on his mettle. It seems an instinct with some natures to delight in showing a power to tease, and it had become stronger with the countess since her disappointment regarding her romance. She was like a child playing with fire-arms, ignorant of their dangerous nature. Annabella knew the weakness of her husband’s nerves, but not the full strength of his pride.
“I was reading yesterday a curious account of a balloon ascent,” continued the earl, in a quieter tone; “and, by-the-bye, I have not quite finished it. It is in the —— Magazine; have you seen the last number, Annabella?”
“I glanced over it,” replied the lady, carelessly; “I suppose that it is lying on one of the tables.”
The earl rose and looked around for the magazine. His wife was too busy in arranging the shades for a withered rose-leaf to give him the least assistance. She was too busy to notice that he at length extended his search for the missing periodical to the drawer of her writing-table. Into that drawer, with habitual carelessness, the countess had thrust a little manuscript, to which, after hastily writing it, she had scarcely given a thought.
“What’s this?” exclaimed Dashleigh half aloud, as his gaze unwittingly fell upon the title—“The Precipice and the Peer.” The first glance had been purely accidental, for the earl was above petty curiosity, and would never have touched either paper or drawer had he supposed them to contain anything secret. But now an ungovernable impulse made him open the leaves, and hastily run his eye over the contents. Annabella had just succeeded in finding a missing shade of russet, when she was startled by a sudden sound resembling a stamp; and looking up, she saw the earl with his very temples crimsoned by rage, and her unfortunate burlesque in his hand.