“Is Miss Hardinge a relative of Mr. Rupert Hardinge, the gentleman to whom I was introduced at dinner, yesterday,” she demanded, after expressing the pleasure it would give her to see the ladies.
I knew that Rupert had dined out the day before, and, there being no one else of the same name, I answered in the affirmative.
“He is the son of a respectable clergyman, and of very good connections, I hear.”
“The Hardinges are so considered among us; both Rupert's father and grandfather were clergymen, and his great-grandfather was a seaman—I trust you will think none the worse of him, for that.”
“A sailor! I had supposed, from what some of those present said—that is, I did not know it.”
“Perhaps they told you that his great-grandfather was a British officer?”
Emily coloured, and then she laughed faintly; admitting, however, that I had guessed right.
“Well, all this was true,” I added, “though he was a sailor. Old Captain Hardinge—or Commodore Hardinge, as he used to be called, for he once commanded a squadron—was in the English navy.”
“Oh! that sort of a sailor!”—cried Emily, quickly—“I did not know that it was usual to call gentlemen in the navy, seamen.”
“They would make a poor figure if they were not, Miss Merton—you might as well say that a judge is no lawyer.”