“Out upon you for a bigot. I should think you had lived in this world long enough——”
“Was there ever on this earth a more virtuous court than our young Queen’s, Maria Hunsdon?”
“It is too good to last. And it is not so long ago——”
“Let us be permitted to forget the court of that iniquitous man”—Anne could see a large-veined hand wave in the direction of a long portrait of George IV.—“since we are mercifully and at last permitted so to do. Besides,” changing the subject hastily, “I believe in predestination. You forget that although married these thousand years to an Englishman I am a Scot by birth——”
But Anne heard no more, although her ears were thirsty. Mrs. Nunn brought her amiable nothings to a close, and a moment later they were ascending the great staircase, where the pretty little Queen and her stately husband smiled alike on the just and the unjust.
Mrs. Nunn entered Anne’s room before passing on to her own. As hostess to her young relative whose income would not have permitted her to visit this most fashionable of winter cities uninvited, it behooved her to see that the guest lacked no comfort. She was a selfish old woman, but she rarely forgot her manners.
“These coloured servants are so inefficient,” she remarked as she peered into the water jars and shook the mosquito netting. “This is my third visit here, so they are as disposed to respect my orders as their limited intelligence and careless habits will permit. I should always advise you to look in and under the bed—not for bad characters, but for caterpillars as long as your two hands, to say nothing of ants. There are no snakes on the island, but I believe land crabs have been seen on the stairs, and I am sure I never should recover if I got into bed with one. The maid will bring your coffee about six. I shall not appear till the half-after-nine breakfast.”
“Then you will not mind if I go out for a walk?”
“Dear me, no. This is not London. But of course you will not permit a gentleman to attend you.”
“As I do not know any——”