“'With every consideration'!” repeated Repton. “Confound the puppy, and his Frenchified phraseology! Why is he not, as he ought to be, your obedient servant?”
“It is a somewhat cold and formal invitation,” said Martin, slowly. “I 'll just see what she thinks of it;” and he arose and left the room. His absence was fully of twenty minutes' duration, and when he did return his face betokened agitation.
“Here's more of it, Repton,” said he, filling and drinking off his glass. “It 's all my fault, it seems. I ought to have gone out to the 'Lodge' this morning, or called on somebody, or done something; in fact, I have been remiss, neglectful, deficient in proper respect—”
“So that you decline the invitation?” broke in Repton.
“Not a bit of it; we 're to accept it, man. That's what I cannot comprehend. We are offended, almost outraged, but still we're to submit. Ah, Repton, I'll be really rejoiced when we leave this,—get away from all these petty annoyances and small intriguings, and live amongst strangers!”
“Most patriotically spoken; but I'm not surprised at what you say. Have you made any resolve as to whither you mean to go?”
“No; we have so many plans, that the chances are we take none of them. I 'm told—I know nothing of it myself—but I 'm told that we shall easily find—and in any part of the Continent—the few requirements we want; which are, an admirable climate, great cheapness, and excellent society.”
There was a slight twinkle in Martin's eye as he spoke, as if he were in reality relishing the absurdity of these expectations.
“Was it Kate Henderson who encouraged you to credit this flattering picture?”
“No; these are my Lady's own experiences, derived from a residence there 'when George the Third was King.' As to Kate, the girl is by no means deficient in common sense; she has the frivolity of a Frenchwoman, and that light, superficial tone foreign education imparts; but take my word for it, Repton, she has very fine faculties!”