"Not even Garibaldi," said Vaura archly, though a tear glistened. "Just fancy my home, a lone isle of the sea. Good-bye, dear uncle; take good care of him, Mrs. Haughton. Good-bye, Blanche; there is a mine of pleasure in store for you at Haughton; bon voyage all."
"She is lovely enough to win even Garibaldi from thoughts of Italy, past and present," said her uncle, lovingly.
"Colonel, I wish you would press Sir Tilton to come with us," said his wife; "I have grown so accustomed to him, I could do without Mason easier."
It was rather of a bore to the Colonel, this running in couples; when he married a wife, he did not marry this acquaintance of hers; but just now he feels that he himself deserves the lash as the fair face of the lost Alice arises before him, and knowing that the Hall would not now be open for guests only for his wife's gold. So the answer the son and inheritor of the estate makes to the daughter of the ballet-dancer is,
"Certainly, dear; anyone that will give you pleasure;" and turning to Sir Tilton, who is driving to the station with them, says: "You had better run down with us, Everly, if you have nothing else in view."
"Thank you, Colonel; have pressing business at London;" to quiet his duns, which he did not deem necessary to communicate; "but can and will be with you a month from now."
"You are very disagreeable, Sir Tilton, and not worth a cent."
"You are right," thought the small baronet.
"I want you to teach my pug tricks," continued Blanche poutingly.
"Come soon, dear baronet," said Mrs. Haughton; "by-by; remember me."