And then Miss Richards gave a laugh.
“We had better pass this picture and look at one which could not possibly be mixed up with another,” she said. “I hope you will agree with me in believing that this is Hoppner's Lady Charlotte Richards, Mrs. Higgins.”
“Oh yes, you are quite right about that one,” said Mrs. Higgins as graciously as a governess commending the right answer given by an errant pupil. “Oh yes, that is Lady Charlotte. I believe she became pious and wrote a hymn. You have heard that, I suppose, Miss Richards?”
“I do believe I did,” replied Miss Richards. “In fact, I have the tiny volume of hymns which she wrote. She was under the influence of Lady Huntingdon.”
But Mrs. Higgins clearly took very little interest in Lady Huntingdon, and she went down the gallery making mistake after mistake; but Miss Richards never attempted to correct her—only once she caught my eye. Mrs. Higgins had attributed the Master Richards of Lawrence to Sir Peter Lely!
We were far away from the Castle before we had our laugh.
“Wasn't it really funny?” said Miss Richards.
“I think that you must be the most even-tempered person in the county, if not in all England,” said I.
The friendly relations existing between the two ladies were not at all changed by the persistent patronage of the picture gallery by the one who was the tenant, and Mrs. Higgins was always ready to offer a hearty welcome to any of Miss Richards' friends and to do the honours of the Castle. I did not, however, trespass upon her hospitality a second time.
A year or two later I met a curious sort of gentleman who bore the same name as that of a family of considerable importance—county importance, I should say, for outside a ten-mile radius they are, as is usually the case, absolute nonentities. I had heard some say, however, that the family grounds included a rather wonderful fountain which I thought I should like to see. I asked the man if he was any relation to the family, and he replied, brightening up wonderfully, that they were his cousins.