“Ah, that accounts—” said Denham vaguely; and he was very much puzzled by this subdued bride, who had no enthusiasm either for the new world she was visiting or the old world which she had left so lately. He tried to draw her out on a variety of subjects; but Nancy, though at intervals an impulse of self-revelation would come upon her, and it was on her lips to tell him that she knew nothing of Oakley, and cared nothing, and should never be there, nor go to Rome, nor do any one of these things he was talking of, was on the other hand so afraid of betraying herself that she held back, looking stiff and silent, and scarcely could be got to say a word. As for Arthur, his anxiety made him somewhat excited and restless, it took away all ease from his manner. He wanted her to join in the conversation, to come out of the shell of reserve in which she had shut herself up; and yet he was afraid of what she might say if once roused. She was a clever girl, with much natural energy and force; but yet it was annoying how entirely the daughter of Bates the tax-collector was at a loss listening to the conversation of the two men who were not clever, yet who knew by nature many things of which she had not a notion. This Assembly they wanted her to go to, what was it? Why should she go? What was an inter—inter—what? Their world and hers were totally different, though one of them was her husband. She was relieved when they veered into gossip and began to talk of people, though she did not know the people. There she could follow them even in her ignorance; for had not she too a Lizzie Brown?
CHAPTER V.
“WHY cannot we go home?” said Nancy. “I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to go to your Rome, and places. What is the good of taking me away to make a show of me? I can speak English, but I don’t know any of those jargons. I am sure it is not good French here; and as for Italian, I never heard a word of it. It is only to make me look ridiculous. Denham thinks so, Arthur. He comes and looks at me, and asks me about old Lady So-and-So. I tell him I don’t know her, and I don’t want to know her. I shall tell him some day I never knew Lady Anybody in my life, and that I am a nobody. I will, if you do not take me away!”
“Do tell him so,” said Arthur, “if you please. I don’t mind what you tell him. You don’t think I want you to make believe? You are all I wish for, Nancy, yourself—better than if you had known a dozen Lady So-and-So’s.”
“Oh, but I am sure you watch me,” she cried. “I always feel that your eye is upon me, Arthur. You are afraid I will say something wrong; and I am afraid too, except when I want to do it: and if I should do it some time, as I am sure I will if we go on, you will not like it. Arthur, don’t let us go further off; let us go home.”
“Home? where is home?” he said. “I don’t know if I should have any welcome.”
“But I should,” cried Nancy. “Mother and all of them would dance for joy. And think how much better we should be. We must be spending a mint of money here. You talk of going further, but I don’t believe you will be able to go further when you look into it. And I don’t know what we have to spend: you don’t tell me anything.”
“I scarcely know myself,” said Arthur, with rather a bewildered look upon his face. “I don’t know what my father—things should be different now.”
“And you are going away travelling without knowing? You will find,” said Nancy, becoming practical all at once, “that we have spent a great deal of money; always having carriages and going to the play—”
“Not to many plays.”