“You are an impudent puss, Katie; you know I never am cross.”
“Oh, what fibs, Frank! You know you are a perfect bear sometimes. There, it is time for you to go upstairs, dinner will be ready in five minutes.”
Kate left the room, her husband remaining behind to say to his friend,—
“Isn’t she a brick, Prescott? Isn’t she a downright little trump? I tell you what, Prescott, I never was sharp, but I managed somehow to choose the very best little woman in the world.” And then he went upstairs after his wife.
At dinner, Prescott was the most silent of the party. Frank, in his pleasure and pride at his wife’s stout-heartedness, was in really high spirits; and Katie having wisely turned the subject to travels, Frank rattled on about some adventures of his in Albania, and never came back again to England until the cloth was removed. Then Kate said,—
“Evan, put the wine and glasses in your master’s study. Now, Frank, let us go there. I have ordered a fire to be lighted; it is more cheerful.”
It was not until they had been seated for some minutes in Frank’s smoking-room, and until Frank’s meerschaum was fairly alight, that Prescott brought the conversation to present matters by asking,—
“Have you thought at all of going abroad, Frank?”
“Well, no,” Frank said. “I have not thought about it, but I should be open to any good appointment. Wolf killer to his Majesty the Czar of all the Russias, that would suit me capitally; or, if I could not get that, say ambassador to Madrid.”
“No, no, Frank; I am speaking seriously. I mean are you thinking of going at once? Hundreds of men in your position will go. The calls cannot be made for another month or six weeks; and there is nothing in the world to prevent your selling out of the Funds, and you would still have a good income for the Continent.”