If Kate was not sorry to learn that “the Lodge” was tenanted by persons of such condition and class, as might make them agreeable neighbours, Travers, on the other hand, was overjoyed at discovering one of such attractions within an easy visiting distance, while Herbert sat by, wondering how persons, so little known to each other, could have so many things to say, and so many topics which seemed mutually interesting. For so it is; they who are ignorant of the world and its habits, can scarcely credit the great extent of those generalities which form food for daily intercourse—nor with what apparent interest people can play the game of life, with but counterfeit coinage. He listened at first with astonishment, and afterwards with delight, to the pleasant flippancy of each, as in turn they discussed scenes, and pleasures, and people, of whom he never so much as heard. The “gentillesse” of French manner—would that we had a name for the thing in English—imparted to Kate's conversation a graceful ease our more reserved habits rarely permit; and while in her costume and her carriage there was a certain coquetry discernible, not a particle of affectation pervaded either her opinions or expressions. Travers, long accustomed to the best society of London, had yet seen scarcely anything of the fascination of foreign agreeability, and yielded himself so insensibly to its charm, that an hour slipped away unconsciously, and he totally forgot the great object of his visit, and lost all recollection of the luckless animal he had attached to the door ring—luckless, indeed, for already a heavy snow-drift was falling, and the day had assumed all the appearance of severe winter.
“You cannot go now, sir,” said Herbert, as Frederick rose to take his leave;—“there's a heavy snow-storm without;” for the boy was so interested in all he heard, he could not endure the thought of his departure.
“Oh! it's nothing,” said Travers, lightly. “There's an old adage—'Snow should not scare a soldier.'”
“There's another proverb in the French service,” said Kate, laughing, as she pointed to the blazing hearth—“'Le soldat ne tourne pas son dos au feu.'”
“I accept the augury,” cried Frederick, laughing heartily at the witty misapplication of the phrase, and resumed his seat once more.
“Cousin Kate plays chess,” said Herbert, in his anxiety to suggest a plausible pretext for delaying Frederick's departure.
“And I am passionately fond of the game; would you favour me so far?”
“With pleasure,” said she smiling; “I only ask one condition, 'point se grace'—no giving back—the O'Donoghues never take or give quarter—isn't that so, Mark? Oh! he's gone,” and now for the first time it was remarked that he had left the apartment.