“And is the English mees there still?” she inquired, with a slight smile.
“Yes; but I understand that she has been desirous to leave for some time,” answered the Colonel.
“Mr. Romaine is a very extraordinary man,” continued Madame de Fonblanque, after a pause. “I have known him for a long time, and I do not think in all these years I have ever known him to do one thing in the usual manner.”
“I have known him, madam, many more years than you have—we were boys together sixty years ago—and I must say your estimate of him is correct. Yet Romaine is not without his virtues.”
“Quite true,” replied Madame de Fonblanque, composedly. “He can be the most generous of men—but I do not think he knows what justice is.”
“Precisely—precisely, madam. After Romaine has spoiled a life, or has used the power of his money most remorselessly, he will then turn around and do the most generous and princely thing in the world. But I should not like to be in his power.”
“Nor I,” said Madame de Fonblanque, in a low voice.
“At present,” continued the Colonel, “the relations between us are somewhat strained. I am much vexed with him, and have shown it. But Romaine, as you say, being totally unlike any created being, sees fit to ignore it, and actually rides over and borrows my man David—a worthy negro, of very inferior intellect, though—to shave him!”
It did not take long to make the four miles to Shrewsbury, and presently they dashed up to the door of the large, brightly lighted house, and the Colonel rapped smartly on the door. There was a bell—an innovation introduced by Mr. Romaine—but Colonel Corbin disdained to use so modern and unheard-of an appliance.
Dodson opened the door, and a flood of light from the fine old-fashioned entrance hall poured out into the night. Colonel Corbin, according to the Virginia custom, walked in, escorting Madame de Fonblanque, without asking if any one was home—somebody was certain to be at home and delighted to see visitors.