‘I knew it! Says I to myself, when Henry opened the door, Jones remains at home for the consolation of Ponto.’
‘Not entirely—’ began Honora, laughing; but the boy shook his head, cutting her short with a playful frown.
‘Cousin Honor, it grieves me to see a woman of your age and responsibility making false excuses. Mr. Parsons, I appeal to you, as a clergyman of the Church of England, is it not painful to hear her putting forward Jones’s asthma, when we all know the true fact is that Ponto’s tastes are so aristocratic that he can’t take exercise with an under servant, and the housekeeper is too fat to waddle. By the bye, how is the old thing?’
‘Much more effective than might be supposed by your account, sir, and probably wishing to know whether to get your room ready.’
‘My room. Thank you; no, not to-night. I’ve got nothing with me. What are you going to do to-morrow? I know you are to be at Charteris’s to luncheon; his Jewess told me so.’
‘For shame, Owen.’
‘I don’t see any shame, if Charles doesn’t,’ said Owen; ‘only if you don’t think yourselves at a stall of cheap jewellery at a fair—that’s all! Phœbe, take care. You’re a learned young lady.’
‘No; I’m very backward.’
‘Ah! it’s the fashion to deny it, but mind you don’t mention Shakespeare.’
‘Why not?’