“To guard against Venus rising from the fickle sea, or Hope descending from a carriage,” rejoined his companion, putting out his hand.
Arthur looked surprised, and, could he have resisted the face of his new acquaintance, he would have added indignation to his expression. But it was impossible.
“To whom do I owe such excellent advice?”
“To Lawrence Newt,” answered that gentleman, putting out his hand. “I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Arthur Merlin.”
The painter shook the merchant’s hand cordially. They had some further conversation, and finally Mr. Merlin turned, and the two men strolled together down town. While they yet talked, Lawrence Newt observed that the eyes of his companion studied every carriage that passed. He did it in a very natural, artless way; but Lawrence Newt smiled with his eyes, and at length said, as if Arthur had asked him the question, “There she comes!”
Arthur was a little bit annoyed, and said, suddenly, and with a fine air of surprise, “Who?”
Lawrence turned and looked him full in the face; upon which the painter, who was so fanatically devoted to his art that it was clearly impossible he should fall in love, said, “Oh!” as if somebody had answered his question.
The next moment both gentlemen bowed to Hope Wayne, who passed with Mrs. Dinks in her carriage.
“Who are those gentlemen to whom you are bowing, Hope?” Mrs. Dinks asked, as she saw her niece lean forward and blush as she bowed.
“Mr. Merlin and Mr. Lawrence Newt,” replied Hope.