“Do bring him,” said Mr. Archer; “Launa will be glad to see him, I know.”
What a name—Launa! reflected Lavinia after their departure. What a fatality there is in our annexing the Colonies! Still, there is money behind the girl, and she is young.
By which reflection we may infer that Mrs. Carden thought of her son in connection with the money and Launa.
The Archers went home in a hansom.
“You call her a woman, daddy; now I call her a fossil,” said Launa. “She is not the sort of woman friend I need. I want a living woman—not one who has existed on husks until she withers everyone who goes near her.”
“She is a type,” he answered vacantly.
“She is an imitation. Show me some one who is brave—who has or knows life.”
“Would you like Mrs. Phillips to come and see you? She is Sir John Blomfield’s daughter, a widow and young. She wants to know you.”
“I am doubtful, not whether she will like me,” with sublime conceit, “but whether I shall like her.”
“You must try her,” he laughed.