“Thank you, doctor,” said Lady Lackington, in acknowledgment; “your tact is always considerate,—always prompt.”
“These things never happen in the season, my Lady,” said he, with a very slight foreign accentuation of the words. “It is only at times like this that people—very excellent and amiable people, doubtless—”
“Oh, to be sure they are,” interrupted she, impatiently; “but let us speak of something else. Is that your clairvoyant Princess yonder?”
“Yes, my Lady; she has just revealed to us what was doing at the Crimea. She says that two of the English advanced batteries have slackened their fire for want of ammunition, and that a deserter was telling Todleben of the reason at the moment She is en rapport with her sister, who is now at Sebastopol.”
“And are we to be supposed to credit this?” asked my Lord.
“I can only aver that I believe it, my Lord,” said Lanfranchi, whose massive head and intensely acute features denoted very little intellectual weakness.
“I wish you 'd ask her why are we lingering so long in this dreary place?” sighed Lady Lackington, peevishly.
“She answered that question yesterday, my Lady,” replied he, quietly.
“How was that? Who asked her? What did she say?”
“It was the Baron von Glum that asked; and her answer was, 'Expecting a disappointment.'”