“Eighteen months; she went back to her mother’s, to be married as it was said, but I don’t know to whom.”
“Your news interests me deeply.”
The landlord brought me the bill, and I saw a note of three pains which her husband had spent on himself and his horse.
“He said you would pay,” observed the landlord.
The Englishwoman blushed. I paid the bill, and we went on.
I was delighted to see her blushing, it proved she was not a party to her husband’s proceedings.
I was burning with the desire to know how she had left London and had met the Frenchman, and why they were going to Rome; but I did not want to trouble her by my questions, and I loved her too well already to give her any pain.
We had a three hours’ drive before us, so I turned the conversation to Sophie, with whom she had been at school.
“Was Miss Nancy Steyne there when you left?” said I.
The reader may remember how fond I had been of this young lady, who had dined with me, and whom I had covered with kisses, though she was only twelve.