“We will take the chance of that,” replied Laura with an incredulous smile; and so, shaking hands, they parted.
The dinner passed off heavily enough. Lewis, despite his efforts to the contrary, appeared out of spirits and distrait. Charles, having been cautioned and tutored to the utmost extent of female foresight as to what he was to say and what to avoid, grew nervous and puzzle-pated; called Laura, Annie, and asked Lewis why he did not send for Miss Grant (meaning his, Lewis’s, sister Rose) to live with him and keep his house; by which blunders he provoked his wife to such a degree that she could have found in her heart to box his ears for him, without the smallest compunction. The arrival of “Tarley” and the dessert produced a marked improvement, that young gentleman being in the highest possible state of health and spirits, and influenced by a strong determination to partake of everything on the table, wine included, to ignore all established precedents as to eating jam by the intervention of a spoon, to consider walnuts appropriate missiles to throw at the company generally, and the cut-glass decanters in particular, to set maternal authority at defiance, as evinced by a resolution to pull off his left shoe and imbed it in orange marmalade, and in fact to do everything which appeared good in his eyes and naughty in those of his elders, and then and there to make a night of it. These little antics, at first amusing, and secretly patronised and fostered by Charles and Lewis, soon becoming tiresome, and at length unbearable, Laura asserted her prerogative, and disregarding much kicking and a hysterical affection, which was neither laughing nor crying, but a compound of the two, succeeded in carrying away her unruly offspring. When the gentlemen were left to themselves, Leicester, filling his glass and handing the bottle to Lewis, began—
“Do you mix much with the young men of the place, so as to judge of their political bias at all?”
“I am acquainted with some dozen, or more, young artists, though I do not enter much into their pursuits, from want of inclination; although, at first, they pressed me to belong to their clubs. I should say, however, judging from their conversation, that democratic principles were rife among them.”
“I fear so; indeed, from information we have received, I should not be surprised if some attempt were likely to be made to throw off the Austrian yoke.”
“Surely that would be great folly,” returned Lewis; “with the troops and resources the Governor, Count Palffy, has at his command, any popular tumult might easily be quelled. It is only from cowardice or inaction on the part of the authorities that any of these successes in Northern Italy have been achieved.”
“Ay, but inaction is just what I fear,” rejoined Leicester; “the Austrians will not believe in the amount of popular disaffection which exists; they will go on ignoring the danger till the moment at which it could be most successfully combated has escaped them. Not that I care very much about the matter; I am neither Trojan nor Tyrian; but I am anxious to gain some certainty as to the chance of a popular outbreak, that I may take measures to provide for the safety of Laura and the child: besides, I think you are aware we have some guests coming to us; had I known this sooner I should have written to them to postpone their visit till some more favourable opportunity.”
“I will investigate the matter,” returned Lewis eagerly, “and will communicate to you any information I may obtain; women should never be exposed to the chance of witnessing the horrors of street warfare.”
After conversing on this topic for some minutes longer, the gentlemen, being neither of them addicted to the practice of wine-bibbing, followed Laura to the drawing-room. Lewis appeared silent and depressed, and a gloom hung over the little party which no effort on the part of the hostess could dispel.
Soon after ten o’clock their guest rose to take leave.