“Don’t you mind that boy, madame; like all young people, he thinks himself wiser than his elders; but time will teach him better, and show him that old-fashioned ways are the best ways after all.”
The princess opened her large blue eyes in astonishment at hearing this grey-haired veteran spoken of as an inexperienced youth, but remembering that it was his grandmother who spoke thus, she merely bowed and smiled in reply—the bow and smile being, in this case, a non-committal answer.
“And now, my dear grandmother, old fashions and new fashions both agree in suggesting that Madame Pezzilini be shown to her apartment before tea,” said the admiral.
“Certainly, certainly! I beg your pardon, madame, but the thunder and the lightning and the wind do so confuse my poor head. Oh!” she exclaimed, as another burst of the tempest shook the house.
When the deafening noise subsided, the old lady turned, and said:
“Come here, Broadsides, and show this lady and her maid to the suite of rooms on the second floor front, right side. And when you have made her comfortable, show her into the drawing-room to the tea-table—the Lord have mercy upon us!”
This latter exclamation was called forth by a terrible glare of lightning that filled the whole house like a conflagration, accompanied by a rolling, crashing, stunning peal of thunder, and a rushing shock of wind that seemed about to batter down the walls over their heads. It was some minutes before this furious blast subsided.
And then Mrs. Broadsides, who had been waiting behind her old mistress, came forward, courtesied, and led the way up the grand staircase to the splendid suite of apartments that had been fitted up for the reception of the illustrious Italian.
Jessup at the same moment advanced from some obscure retreat where he had been lurking, took possession of his master, and marshaled him off to his chamber to change his wet riding-coat for a dry-evening-dress.
And the two old ladies retreated to the drawing-room to await the return of the admiral and his guest.