He strolled off again, presumably to oversee the execution in the hen roost, and Lord Charlbury, rendering up silent thanks for his wounded arm, poured himself out a second glass of sherry. After a short interval, Mr. Fawnhope emerged from the library, bearing a worm-eaten volume in his hand. This he reverently displayed to his lordship, saying simply, “ La Hermosura de Angelica! One never knows where one may light upon a treasure. I must show it to the Marquesa. Whose is this enchanting house?”
“Sir Horace Stanton-Lacy’s,” replied Charlbury, in some amusement.
“Providence must have led me to it. I could not imagine what brought me here, but it doesn’t signify. When I saw Sophy standing in the open doorway, holding aloft the lamp, the scales fell from my eyes, and all doubts were resolved. I am engaged to dine somewhere or other, but I shan’t regard it.”
“You don’t feel that you should perhaps ride back to town to keep your engagement?” suggested his lordship.
“No,” replied Mr. Fawnhope simply. “I prefer to be here. There is also a Galatea, but not an original copy.” He then sat down at the table and opened the book, poring over it until interrupted by Sophy, who came in with a bundle of candles tucked under one arm and a shallow wooden box held carefully between her hands. Beside her, a mixture of curiosity and jealousy, pranced her little greyhound, from time to time springing up to reach the box.
Mr. Fawnhope leaped to his feet and held out his hands to take the box from her. “Give it to me! An urn you might bear but not a sordid box!”
She relinquished it, saying practically, “Mrs. Clavering will bring that presently, but it is not yet time for the tea tray, you know. We have not dined! Careful! Poor little things, they have no mother!”
“Sophy, what in the world — ?” exclaimed Charlbury, perceiving that the box contained a brood of yellow ducklings. “You do not mean to cook these for dinner, I do trust?”
“Good gracious, no! Only Mrs. Clavering has been rearing them in the warmth of the kitchen, and Sancia complains that they will run under her feet. Set the box down in this corner, Augustus. Tina will not harm them!”
He obeyed her, and the ducklings, all vigorously cheeping, at once struggled out of the box, one of them, more venturesome than the rest, setting forth on an exploratory expedition. Sophy caught it and held it cupped in her hands, while Tina, quite disgusted, jumped onto a chair, and lay down with her head pointedly averted. Mr. Fawnhope’s smile swept across his face, and he quoted,