“No, madam; my sister has accompanied me.”
“I wish it had been your mother. I do so like the maternal pride of a dear old lady in her fine, handsome son. Is n't she vain of you? By the way, how did your choice fall upon the Church? You look more like a cavalry officer. I'm certain you ride well.”
“It is, perhaps, the only accomplishment I possess in the world,” said he, with some warmth of manner.
“I 'm delighted to hear that you 're a horseman. There 's a mare of mine become perfectly impossible. A stupid creature I took as groom hurt her mouth with a severe bit, and she rears now at the slightest touch. Could n't you do something with her? Pray do; and in return I'll take you some charming rides over the Campagna. There's a little valley—almost a glen—near this, which I may say I discovered myself. You mustn't be afraid of bad tongues because you ride out with me. Mrs. Trumpler will of course take it up. She's odious—perfectly odious. You have n't seen her yet, but you 'll have to call on her; she contributes a thousand francs a year to the Church, and must not be neglected. And then there's old Sir Marcus Cluff—don't forget him; and take care to remember that his mother was Lady Marion Otley, and don't remember that his father was Cluff and Gosier, the famous fishmonger. I protest I'm becoming as scandalous as Mrs. Trumpler herself. And mind that you come back and tell when you 've seen these people what they said to you, and what you said to them, and whether they abused me. Come to tea, or, if you like better, come and dine to-morrow at six, and I 'll call on your mother in the mean while and ask her—though I 'd rather you 'd come alone.”
“It is my sister, madam, that is with me,” said he, with great difficulty refraining from a burst of laughter.
“Well, and I 've said I 'd visit her, though I 'm not fond of women, and I believe they never like me.”
L'Estrange blundered out some stupid compliment about her having in recompense abundant admiration from the other sex, and she laughed, and said, “Perhaps so. Indeed, I believe I am rather a favorite; but with clever men—not with the fools. You 'll see that they avoid me. And so,” said she, drawing a deep sigh, “you really can tell me nothing about these Bramleighs? And all this time I have been reckoning on your coming to hear everything, and to know about the will. Up to this hour, I am totally ignorant as to how I am left. Is n't that very dreadful?”
“It is very distressing indeed, madam.”
“The Colonel always said he 'd insert a clause or a something or other against my marrying again. Can you imagine anything so ungenerous? It's unchristian, actually unchristian—isn't it?”
A slight gesture seemed to say that he agreed with her; but she was for once determined to be answered more definitely, and she said, “I'm sure, as a clergyman, you can say if there's anything in the Bible against my having another husband?”