The colonel said: “I suppose you told him nothing of what you had done for him?” and said Tuckham: “Oh no: what anybody else would have done”; and proceeded to recount that he had called at Dr. Shrapnel’s on the chance of an interview with his friend Lydiard, who used generally to be hanging about the cottage. “But now he’s free: his lunatic wife is dead, and I’m happy to think I was mistaken as to Miss Denham. Men practising literature should marry women with money. The poor girl changed colour when I informed her he had been released for upwards of three months. The old Radical’s not the thing in health. He’s anxious about leaving her alone in the world; he said so to me. Beauchamp’s for rigging out a yacht to give him a sail. It seems that salt water did him some good last year. They’re both of them rather the worse for a row at one of their meetings in the North in support of that public nuisance, the democrat and atheist Roughleigh. The Radical doctor lost a hat, and Beauchamp almost lost an eye. He would have been a Nelson of politics, if he had been a monops, with an excuse for not seeing. It’s a trifle to them; part of their education. They call themselves students. Rome will be capital, Miss Halkett. You’re an Italian scholar, and I beg to be accepted as a pupil.”
“I fear we have postponed the expedition too long,” said Cecilia. She could have sunk with languor.
“Too long?” cried Colonel Halkett, mystified.
“Until too late, I mean, papa. Do you not think, Mr. Austin, that a fortnight in Rome is too short a time?”
“Not if we make it a month, my dear Cecilia.”
“Is not our salt air better for you? The yacht shall be fitted out.”
“I’m a poor sailor!”
“Besides, a hasty excursion to Italy brings one’s anticipated regrets at the farewell too close to the pleasure of beholding it, for the enjoyment of that luxury of delight which I associate with the name of Italy.”
“Why, my dear child,” said her father, “you were all for going, the other day.”
“I do not remember it,” said she. “One plans agreeable schemes. At least we need not hurry from home so very soon after our return. We have been travelling incessantly. The cottage in Wales is not home. It is hardly fair to Mount Laurels to quit it without observing the changes of the season in our flowers and birds here. And we have visitors coming. Of course, papa, I would not chain you to England. If I am not well enough to accompany you, I can go to Louise for a few weeks.”