“Wait a moment; pray don't go,—sit down again,—I never meant,—of course I could n't mean so,—eh, Baynton?” said his Lordship, stammering in great confusion.
“Of course not,” broke in Baynton; “his Lordship's inquiries were really prompted by a sincere desire to serve you.”
“Just so,—a sincere desire to serve you.”
“In fact, seeing you, as I may say, in the toils.”
“Exactly so,—in the toils.”
“He thought very naturally that his influence and his position might,—you understand,—for these fellows know perfectly well what an English peer is,—they take a proper estimate of the power of Great Britain.”
His Lordship nodded assentingly, as though any stronger corroboration might not be exactly graceful on his part, and Baynton went on:—
“Now you perfectly comprehend why,—you see at once the whole thing; and I 'm sure, instead of feeling any soreness or irritation at my lord's interference, that in point of fact—”
“Just so,” broke in his Lordship, pressing Massy into a seat at his side,—“just so; that's it!”
It requires no ordinary tact for any man to reseat himself at a table from which he has risen in anger or irritation, and Massy had far too little knowledge of life to overcome this difficulty gracefully. He tried, indeed, to seem at ease, he endeavored even to be cheerful; but the efforts were all unsuccessful. My lord was no very acute observer at any time; he was, besides, so constitutionally indolent that the company which exacted least was ever the most palatable to him. As for Baynton, he was only too happy whenever least reference was made to his opinion, and so they sat and sipped their wine with wonderfully little converse between them.