Jack gazed about for several minutes in vain; and then they came face to face with Mrs. Bryce, Admiral Peirce being her attendant cavalier.
Both were immensely interested to hear Jack's news—how, in less than a week, he would be off to Sandgate, there to be under the command of General Moore; and there also, as Jack hoped, to be called upon to bear the first brunt of Napoleon's invasion.
"Not you, my dear sir," objected the Admiral, with beaming face. "Before ever Boney reaches English shores, depend on't, he'll render a good account of himself to our ships of war. Trust gallant Nelson for that, since he's on the look-out. I doubt me, Boney won't contrive to give our Navy the slip."
Jack had no wish to get into a discussion. "Well, sir, well, our Navy and our Army too will both of them do their best," he said. "But he would be a foolish fellow who should trust all his eggs in one basket, as the saying is. And should by any chance the slip be given, and Boney arrive on our shores, why, then the Army will make him render his account, fairly! Has anybody seen Mrs. Moore, ma'am?" and he turned to Mrs. Bryce.
Mrs. Bryce had not the least intention of parting hastily with her second cavalier. To walk about the Pump Room, in view of all her Bath acquaintances, with a gentleman on either side, was highly desirable. So Polly and Molly were adroitly dropped behind, and she set off.
"If not Mrs. Moore, Jack, I have seen someone else of passable interest," she remarked. "Her name is Miss Jane Austen—a well-bred young woman, I do assure you. And only to think—the good lady has writ a book, which may by chance be one day printed. 'Twas told my husband in strictest confidence; and if I had not wormed it out of him——Ah, ha! Jack—wait till you get you a wife, and then you'll not smile on that side of your mouth."
"I have found my bride, ma'am. 'Tis my profession," declared Jack.
"Nay, nay, nothing of the sort, my dear sir. Wait a while, and you'll find your affections engaged in another fashion. Can you be so hard-hearted as to hold out even now, in the face of all this youth and elegance? See—there goes a bewitching young woman, though 'tis true she wears a shocking unbecoming gown! But she's a prodigious favourite, and she can dance as tolerable a minuet as any young female present. Then there's young Susie, yonder—something of a hoyden, may be, and calls herself 'a dasher,' but uncommonly pretty, and prodigiously good spirits. And if you'd sooner have a blue-stocking—why, I've but to introduce you to Miss Jane Austen herself."
(To be continued.)