Mr. Lisle hoped that Miss Nash would devote at least three hours every day to her music. The falsehood was so audacious that he shuddered as he uttered it. He made a ceremonious bow and fled.
Going back to Bellevue street, he locked himself into his room and turned out all his worldly goods. A little portmanteau was carefully packed with a selection from them, and hidden away in a cupboard, and the rest were laid by as nearly as possible in their accustomed order. Then he took out his purse and examined its contents with dissatisfied eyes. "Can't get on without the sinews of war," Bertie soliloquized. "I might manage with double as much perhaps, but how shall I get it? Spoiling the Egyptians would be the scriptural course of conduct I suppose, and I'm ready; but where are the Egyptians? I wonder if Judith keeps a hoard anywhere? Or Lydia? Shall I go and ask her to lend me jewels of silver and jewels of gold? Poor Lydia! I fear I could hardly find a plausible excuse for borrowing the blue earrings. And I doubt they wouldn't help me much. No, I must find some better plan than that."
He was intensely excited: his flushed cheek and glittering eyes betrayed it. But the feelings of the morning had worn off in the practical work of packing and preparing for his flight. Perhaps it was as well they had, for they could hardly have survived an interview with Lydia in the afternoon. She was suspicious, and required coaxing to begin with.
"Why, what's the matter, Lydia?" said Lisle at last in his gentlest voice. "You might do this for me."
"You are always wanting something done for you."
"Oh, Lydia! and I've been such a good boy lately!"
"Too good by half," said Lydia.
"And a month ago I was always too bad. How am I to hit your precise taste in wickedness?"