The Archduke laughed, and heartily, too, at this sally; and Purvis, emboldened by the complaisance, edged more closely towards him to point out the lady in question. “She has a droll kind of sc-sc-scarf in her hair. There! don't you see her now? Have you ever seen the pictures in the Pitti Palace?”
The question was a little startling, as the personage to whom it was addressed had his residence there. The Archduke, however, merely bowed in acquiescence, and Purvis went on: “My sister Zoe copied one and I like it better than the Ti-Tit-Titian itself. We smoked it, too, and made it look so brown, you'd never guess it to be mo-mo-mo-modern.”
To judge from the bewildered look of the Duke, the whole of this speech was pure Chaldee to him; and when he turned to Lady Hester for an explanation, he discovered that she had left her seat. Whether mistaking the motion as an invitation to be seated, or merely acting by his own impulses, Scroope crossed over and sat down on the sofa with a degree of self-satisfaction that lighted up all his features.
“You 're not one of the fa-family, are you?” asked he.
“I have not that honor,” said the Prince, with a bow.
“I thought not. I suspected that there was a tw-tw-twang in your English that looked foreign, but I know your face quite well.”
The Duke bowed again.
“Pretty rooms, these,” said Purvis, with his glass to his eye; “what a d-d-deal of money they must have cost! They 're going it fast, these Onslows.”
“Indeed!” said the Prince, who only half understood the remark.
“I know it,” said Scroope, with a confidential wink. “Their butcher se-se-serves us, and he won't give anything till they have sent their orders; and as for wine, they drink Bordeaux in the servants' hall. I don't know what you have, but a d-d-deuced sight better than ever I get.”