"Hello! McAllister, old boy, how are you? Why are you star-gazing here? Wake up, old boy, wake up!"
"Oh! Jack, how are you?" said McAllister, for he it was, turning round sharply. "I'm glad to see you. I thought you were in France."
"Well, so I was, but the fellow I went with couldn't speak a word of French, and you know I can't. We started on this walking tour through the Pyrenees, where no English is spoken. The consequence was that we were nearly starved—couldn't make the people understand. I got tired of making signs, as if I were a deaf mute, so I just turned back and came home, and here I am."
"How are Lady Severn and Miss Elsie?"
"Both very well, thank you. Elsie is enjoying her season thoroughly. I never saw such a girl before in my life. She is out morning, noon and night. I declare she tires me out, and I can't begin to keep pace with her. One ball at nine, another at ten; rush, rush, all the time, it is terrible. She has the constitution of a horse, I believe."
"Not very complimentary to Miss Elsie," said Noël laughing.
"True, nevertheless. I say, McAllister, you look very glum. What is the matter with you? Oh! ah! I beg your pardon, I—I——What an ass I am, always putting my foot into it. Pray forgive me."
"Yes," said Noël, "it was very sad. You know, Lady Margaret always would drive those ponies; we could not prevent her. She was determined to break them in, and, when she decided on a thing, she always carried her point. That morning, she drove to the Glen; the precipice there is very steep, and something frightened the ponies, and—and you know the rest."
"Yes, yes," said Jack shuddering, "I heard it all. I am very sorry for you, old boy. Lady Margaret was very kind to me. She used to scold me occasionally, but I expect I deserved it. No, no, don't talk about it any more. You must cheer up, old boy. Come with me to the opera to-night. Mademoiselle Laurentia is going to sing in 'Aida.'"
"Mademoiselle Laurentia?"