Moreover, when he was shaved and washed,—oiled and perfumed,—and attired in a clean shirt, black trousers, red morocco slippers, and an elegant dressing-gown, his appearance was so much more satisfactory to himself that he felt quite equal to the task of encountering his relative.
He accordingly proceeded, with a smile upon his lips and an easy unconstrained manner, to the drawing-room, where a respectable, motherly-looking, stout old lady was anxiously awaiting him.
"My dear Albert," she exclaimed, as he entered the apartment, "what have you been doing with yourself this last month, that you never come near us—no, not even on Sundays, as you used to do?"
And, while she spoke, the good-natured woman made a motion as if she were anxious to embrace her nephew; but he—well aware that it is improper to give way to one's feelings in the fashionable world—retreated a step or two, and graciously allowed his aunt to shake the tip of his fore-finger.
"Lor, Albert, how strange you are!" exclaimed the baffled relative. "But do tell me," she continued, quietly resuming her seat, "what you have been doing with yourself. Why did you leave your nice little lodging in Budge Row? why do you never come near us? why have you moved up into this part of the town? and why didn't you even write to tell us where you was living? If it hadn't been for Storks, your stock-broker, I shouldn't have known how to find you out; but he gave me your address."
"Storks!" murmured Egerton, turning very pale. "Did he tell you—any thing——"
"Oh! yes," continued the aunt, speaking with great volubility; "he told me that you had sold out a power of money;—but when he saw that I was annoyed, he assured me that it could only be for some good purpose. And it is so, Albert dear—isn't it?"
"Certainly—to be sure, aunt—Oh! certainly," stammered the young man, as he glanced uneasily towards the door.
"Well, now—I am glad of that, Albert," said the old lady, apparently relieved of a serious misgiving. "I said to your eldest cousin Susannah Rachel, says I, 'Albert is a good young man—quiet—steady—and firm in his resolve to follow in the footsteps of his dear lamented father':—here the aunt wiped her eyes;—'and,' says I, 'if he has sold out fifteen or twenty thousand pounds, depend, upon it he has bought a nice snug little estate; and he means to surprise us all by asking us to dine with him some Sunday at his country-house.' Am I right, Albert dear?"
"Oh! quite right, aunt," exclaimed the young man, overjoyed to find that his dissipated courses were unknown to his relatives. "And that was the reason why I did not go near you—nor yet write to you. But have a little patience—and, in a few weeks, I promise you and my cousins a pleasant day——"