Long before Philip, accompanied by Mary, returned in his unconventional footballing costume, these two interesting persons were getting on like a house on fire. The past was reconstructed and repeopled; the present was deplored, and, alas! abused not a little. Mrs. Cathcart had known Mr. Gladstone, Mr. Disraeli—whom she couldn’t abide!—Mr. Dickens, Mr. Thackeray, Lord Tennyson, Mr. Bright, and Garibaldi. Comparisons are invidious, but where are the persons of that type nowadays?
Lord Warlock entirely agreed with the goddaughter of Bean. Alas, the world had fallen upon evil days indeed!
“But I think, ma’am, you have a devilish sensible granddaughter, if I may say so.”
Grandmamma hoped her granddaughter was sensible, although to her mind it seemed that she had not married very prudently.
No brains, certainly, agreed my lord—speaking of the young chap, of course—but perhaps a young chap was just as well without ’em, provided his income was large enough to supply the deficiency.
However, it was more a Question of Principle to the mind of Grandmamma. And a Question of Principle is, of course, a great matter. The stage and the peerage had so little in common that they were best kept apart. Not, to be sure, that Grandmamma was blind to the worldly advantages, but then, to one who had played Lady Macbeth to John Peter Kendall, worldly advantages were not everything.
Mary and Philip undoubtedly interrupted an agreeable tête-à-tête. But the Ex-Ambassador shook hands with them both, and informed Mary once more how devilish obliged he was for the improvement that had already been wrought in his rheumatism. Mary was delighted to hear that, of course; and she rang for more tea and ordered heaps of hot buttered cakes; and Pa was so genial that this might never have been the creature who had stolen a march on Adela.
Mr. Philip, it must be admitted, was not very conversational. Even in the most favorable circumstances he was a silent young man. But Mary could talk enough for two, or enough for twenty if it came to that, being one of those gifted young women who are never at a loss in any society. Yet she was tactful, of course, with this Grecian gift—yes, it is a Grecian gift, you young ladies of Newnham and Girton; and if you possess this valuable faculty to the degree that Mary did, be like her and never, never abuse it.
The Tactful Young Madam hoped that Lord Warlock would excuse their unconventional attire. They had been playing football for the benefit of the widow and five young children of the late Joe McPherson, and ten thousand people had been present and quite a substantial sum was likely to be raised, and if Lord Warlock would be so kind as to give her the sovereign he had promised her for the Fund she would have great pleasure in forwarding it to the Treasurer, and she was sure the Treasurer would have equal pleasure in receiving it, because the Cause was so Deserving.
Pa paid up there and then, like a fine old Irish gentleman and a sportsman to boot; and Mary promised to send on the receipt as soon as she received it; and my lord said the receipt was of no consequence; and Mary, with her square and sensible face, said a receipt was always of consequence; not that she contradicted Pa at all rudely, you know, as we fear another young person has been known to do on occasion.