These philosophical remarks precede another introduction to the public ball-room at Doncaster. Mrs. Dallington Vere and Miss Dacre are walking arm in arm at the upper end of the room.
‘You are disappointed, love, about Arundel?’ said Mrs. Dallington.
‘Bitterly; I never counted on any event more certainly than on his return this summer.’
‘And why tarrieth the wanderer? unwillingly of course?’
‘Lord Darrell, who was to have gone over as Chargé d’affaires, has announced to his father the impossibility of his becoming a diplomatist, so our poor attaché suffers, and is obliged to bear the portefeuille ad interim.’
‘Does your cousin like Vienna?’
‘Not at all. He is a regular John Bull; and, if I am to judge from his correspondence, he will make an excellent ambassador in one sense, for I think his fidelity and his patriotism may be depended on. We seldom serve those whom we do not love; and, if I am to believe Arundel, there is neither a person nor a place on the whole Continent that affords him the least satisfaction.’
‘How singular, then, that he should have fixed on such a métier; but, I suppose, like other young men, his friends fixed for him?’
‘Not at all. No step could be less pleasing to my father than his leaving England; but Arundel is quite unmanageable, even by papa. He is the oddest but the dearest person in the world!’
‘He is very clever, is he not?’