"What! they know how to make compliments in Australia?"
"When they have a worthy object," with a bow.
"Another! really, Mr. Monteith, you are a Sir Charles Grandison.'
"I hope not," broke in Foster, who had been talking to Mr. Taunton; "he was a prig,--wouldn't be tolerated now-a-days; but then," shrugging his shoulders, "how could you expect a linen-draper to conceive a gentleman? It would be easier to make a silk purse out a sow's ear."
"Poor Richardson," said the lady, with an amused look, "how severe you are on him. Mr. Monteith, pardon my rudeness; let me introduce to you my husband."
The artist bowed, and shook Ronald by the hand, but said nothing. He was a man of few words, and so left his wife to do most of the talking--a task to which she was fully equal.
"Now then," said Mrs. Taunton, when the introduction had been effected, "Mr. Foster, you can talk art, law, and scandal to my husband, while Mr. Monteith escorts me through the room in order to improve his mind."
Ronald, of course, was delighted, and they strolled off, leaving the lawyer in deep conversation with the artist over a divorce case which was then being published in extenso in the newspapers.
What charming conversationalists some women are! They are as happy in their talk as in their letter-writing; and Mrs. Taunton was a most delightful cicerone; with all Foster's knowledge and wit, but without his cynicism. Cynicism, like garlic, should only be used in moderation, and Ronald found Mrs. Taunton's bright, rapid talk rather a relief after the pessimistic views of his friend, the lawyer. The lady seemed to know everyone--stopped every now and then to talk to people, and, after leaving them, kept up a running fire of conversation about their oddities, which amused the Australian very much.
"How you do seize on people's weak points!" he said, laughing.