“I thought the British post-office was impeccable.”
“The good Homer sometimes nods,” said Ralph. “However,” he went on more brightly, “the good Bantling never does, and, whatever happens, he’ll take care of Henrietta.”
Ralph went to keep his appointment with Sir Matthew Hope, and Isabel made her arrangements for quitting Pratt’s Hotel. Her uncle’s danger touched her nearly, and while she stood before her open trunk, looking about her vaguely for what she should put into it, the tears suddenly rose to her eyes. It was perhaps for this reason that when Ralph came back at two o’clock to take her to the station she was not yet ready. He found Miss Stackpole, however, in the sitting-room, where she had just risen from her luncheon, and this lady immediately expressed her regret at his father’s illness.
“He’s a grand old man,” she said; “he’s faithful to the last. If it’s really to be the last—pardon my alluding to it, but you must often have thought of the possibility—I’m sorry that I shall not be at Gardencourt.”
“You’ll amuse yourself much more in Bedfordshire.”
“I shall be sorry to amuse myself at such a time,” said Henrietta with much propriety. But she immediately added: “I should like so to commemorate the closing scene.”
“My father may live a long time,” said Ralph simply. Then, adverting to topics more cheerful, he interrogated Miss Stackpole as to her own future.
Now that Ralph was in trouble she addressed him in a tone of larger allowance and told him that she was much indebted to him for having made her acquainted with Mr. Bantling. “He has told me just the things I want to know,” she said; “all the society items and all about the royal family. I can’t make out that what he tells me about the royal family is much to their credit; but he says that’s only my peculiar way of looking at it. Well, all I want is that he should give me the facts; I can put them together quick enough, once I’ve got them.” And she added that Mr. Bantling had been so good as to promise to come and take her out that afternoon.
“To take you where?” Ralph ventured to enquire.
“To Buckingham Palace. He’s going to show me over it, so that I may get some idea how they live.”