"But Robert is going away this instant," said Lady Laura. "Has he told you of our adventures at Rome?"
"Not a word."
"Then I must tell you;—but not now. The dear old Pope was so civil to us. I came to think it quite a pity that he should be in trouble."
"I must be off," said the husband, getting up. "But I shall meet you at dinner, I believe."
"Do you dine at Mr. Monk's?"
"Yes, and am asked expressly to hear Turnbull make a convert of you. There are only to be us four. Au revoir." Then Mr. Kennedy went, and Phineas found himself alone with Lady Laura. He hardly knew how to address her, and remained silent. He had not prepared himself for the interview as he ought to have done, and felt himself to be awkward. She evidently expected him to speak, and for a few seconds sat waiting for what he might say.
At last she found that it was incumbent on her to begin. "Were you surprised at our suddenness when you got my note?"
"A little. You had spoken of waiting."
"I had never imagined that he would have been impetuous. And he seems to think that even the business of getting himself married would not justify him staying away from Parliament. He is a rigid martinet in all matters of duty."
"I did not wonder that he should be in a hurry, but that you should submit."