“You must now excuse me, Mr. Thompson. My brougham is waiting, and I have several calls to make, and therefore I must, however reluctantly it may be, wish you good morning.”
“I am sure I have been most delighted with this short visit, and only wish it could be protracted; but I will not seek to detain you.”
“You will remember the letter I have given you for Mr. Rawton?”
“Most certainly I will; it shall be delivered into his hands upon the very first opportunity.”
“Thank you very much.”
Peace saw his aristocratic visitor to the door; she entered her brougham, waved her hand to the gentleman of independent means and musical proclivities, and the vehicle was driven off.
“I thought you were having a lesson, ma’am,” said Amy, after they had got out of the Evelina-road. “I’m sure it sounded beautiful.”
“Oh, dear me, no, you silly girl. A lesson, indeed! Only just trying a new piece of music over, that’s all. Mr. Thompson is such a nice, genial old gentleman; quite a fatherly man, and I should say he is a most respectable person.”
“Is he a professor of music?”
“Oh dear, no—nothing of the sort. He has played in public, though. So he told me.”