“Good-day, Fuller, good-day,” he said, in a hearty voice; “don't let me disturb you, I beg. We heard your beautiful music as we passed by, and stopped to listen to it. This is my young friend, Mr. De Blacquaire, who's going to stand, you know, for this division of the county. Mr. De Blacquaire is a great amateur of music, and was delighted with your playing—delighted.”
“I was charmed, indeed,” said Ferdinand. “There are lovers of music everywhere, of course, but I had not expected to find so advanced a company of amateurs in Heydon Hay. That final passage was exquisitely rendered.”
The earl stood with a smile distorted in the sunlight, looking alternately from the candidate to the voters.
“Exquisitely rendered, I am sure,” he said—“exquisitely rendered. Praise from Mr. De Blacquaire is worth having, let me tell you, Fuller. Mr. De Blacquaire is himself a distinguished musician. Ah! my old friend Eld! How do you do? how do you do?”
This greeting was addressed to Sennacherib, who had arisen on the earl's arrival, had deliberately turned his back, and was now engaged in turning over the leaves of music which lay on the table before him.
“Sennacherib,” said Isaiah, mildly, “his lordship's a-talking to thee.”
“I can hear,” responded Sennacherib, “as he's a-talking to one on us. As for me, I'm none the better for being axed.”
“And none the worse, I hope,” said his lordship, as cheerily as he could.
“Nayther wuss nor better, so far as I can see,” replied Sennacherib.
“Come, come, Mr. Eld,” said Fuller. “Harmony! harmony!”