"Bravo, Bertram," said Douglas.
"Merci, Monsieur," said Vaura, smiling; "you flatter my poor charms; but we cannot deceive ourselves; this is, as Mark Twain says, the 'gilded age,' and in going to the altar one of the two must have the yellow sovereign."
"Yes, Vaura, you are right; one or other, it matters not, must have a full hand," said her godmother.
CHAPTER XII.
SOARING!—THENCE TO THINGS OF EARTH.
"By the way, Roland, cher garcon have your people yet returned to
Surrey?" enquired Vaura.
"The first detachment, consisting of the governor, with mother, now delight the flock with their presence; and the paters, pipe, flock and sermons again occupy his attention. The damsel Isabel is still at Paris, whither yours truly is journeying to carry the child home to our parents."
"I suppose Robert is still at Oxford?" said Lady Esmondet.
"No, at Rome; by the way, you and Vaura will see him; he is incumbent of St. Augustine's."
"How strange it will be to see my old playmate (sad, wound up in himself kind of boy he was) doing clergyman's duty," said Vaura.