“Well, aunt, the liberation of commerce from its fetters for one thing. I can contrive to be interested in that, because I know England can be great only by commerce. Then the education of all classes, because without that England cannot be enlightened or good.”
“He never says a word to me about such things,” said Mrs. Bazalgette; “I suppose he thinks they are above poor me.” She delivered this with so admirable an imitation of pique, that the courtier was deceived, and applied butter to “a fox's wound.”
“Oh no, aunt. Consider; if that was it, he would not waste them on me, who am so inferior to you in sagacity. More likely he says, 'This young lady has not yet completed her education; I will sprinkle a little good sense among her frivolous accomplishments.' Whatever the motive, I am very much obliged to Mr. Hardie. A man of sense is so refreshing after—(full stop). What do you think of his voice?”
“His voice? I don't remember anything about it.”
“Yes, you do—you must; it is a very remarkable one; so mellow, so quiet, yet so modulated.”
“Well, I do remember now; it is rather a pleasant voice—for a man.”
“Rather a pleasant voice!” repeated Lucy, opening her eyes; “why, it is a voice to charm serpents.”
“Ha! ha! It has not charmed him one yet, you see.”
This speech was not in itself pellucid; but these sweet ladies among themselves have so few topics compared with men, and consequently beat their little manor so often, that they seize a familiar idea, under any disguise, with the rapidity of lightning.
“Oh, charmers are charm-proof,” replied Lucy; “that is the only reason why. I am sure of that.” Then she reflected awhile. “It is his natural voice, is it not? Did you ever hear him speak in any other? Think.”