“Well, Sir, you’ll tell me when you comes home if he’s better than Mrs. Byles for his side-dishes; for I’ll never believe it, Sir, till I have it from a knowledgeable gentleman like yourself. Not that I think, Sir, they will play off any of their new-fangled tricks on you—putting cheese into the soup, and powdered sugar over the peas.”
“I have seen both in Paris,” said M’Kinlay, gravely.
“And frogs too, Sir, and snails; and Jacob, that was out in Italy with the saddle-horses, says, he seen fifteen shillings given for a hedgehog, when lamb got too big.”
“Let Mademoiselle Heinzleman know that I should be glad to speak to her,” said the lawyer, who, feeling that he was going to dine out, could afford to be distant.
“Yes, Sir, I’ll tell her;” and Rickards stirred the fire, and drew down a blind here, and drew up another there, and fidgeted about in that professionally desultory manner his order so well understand. When he got to the door, however, he stepped back, and in a low confidential whisper said, “It’s the ‘Ock, Sir, the ‘Ock, at Dalradem, that beats us; eighty odd years in bottle, and worth three guineas a flask.” He sighed as he went out, for the confession cost him dear. It was like a Government whip admitting that his party must be beaten on the next division!
Mr. M’Kinlay was deep in a second perusal of Sir Gervais Vyner’s letter when Mademoiselle Heinzleman entered. “I have a few lines from Sir Gervais here, Mademoiselle,” said he, pompously, for the invitation to Dalradem was still fresh in his mind. “He wishes me, if it be at all possible, to accompany you and Miss Vyner as far as, let me see”—and he opened the letter—“as far as Marseilles. I own, with whatever pride I should accept the charge, however charmed I should naturally feel at the prospect of a journey in such company——”
“Es macht nichts. I mean, Sare,” said she, impetuously, “with Franz, the courier, we can travel very well all alone.”
“If you will permit me, Mademoiselle,” said he, haughtily, to finish my phrase, “you will find that, notwithstanding my many and pressing engagements, and the incessant demands which the opening of term makes upon my time, it is my intention not to refuse this—this, I shall call it favour—for it is favour—to my respected client. Can you be ready by Monday?”
“We are Wednesday now! Yes; but of Mademoiselle Kate, what of her? Does she come with us?”
“I opine not,” said he, gravely.