‘Who, I?’ replied the Advocate. ‘No, truly, I think it was the wisest thing you could do.’
‘Yes,’ answered Mannering, well pleased to have escaped the ridicule he apprehended; ‘you know the worst is paying the chaise-hire. I sent a post-chaise and four from Kippletringan, with instructions corresponding to the letter; the horses will have a long and cold station on the outpost to-night if our intelligence be false.’
‘Ay, but I think it will prove otherwise,’ said the Lawyer. ‘This woman has played a part till she believes it; or, if she be a thorough-paced impostor, without a single grain of self-delusion to qualify her knavery, still she may think herself bound to act in character; this I know, that I could get nothing out of her by the common modes of interrogation, and the wisest thing we can do is to give her an opportunity of making the discovery her own way. And now have you more to say, or shall we go to the ladies?’
‘Why, my mind is uncommonly agitated,’ answered the Colonel, ‘and--but I really have no more to say; only I shall count the minutes till the carriage returns; but you cannot be expected to be so anxious.’
‘Why, no; use is all in all,’ said the more experienced lawyer; ‘I am much interested certainly, but I think I shall be able to survive the interval, if the ladies will afford us some music.’
‘And with the assistance of the wild ducks, by and by?’ suggested Mannering.
‘True, Colonel; a lawyer’s anxiety about the fate of the most interesting cause has seldom spoiled either his sleep or digestion. [Footnote: See Note 6.] And yet I shall be very eager to hear the rattle of these wheels on their return, notwithstanding.’
So saying, he rose and led the way into the next room, where Miss Mannering, at his request, took her seat at the harpsichord, Lucy Bertram, who sung her native melodies very sweetly, was accompanied by her friend upon the instrument, and Julia afterwards performed some of Scarlatti’s sonatas with great brilliancy. The old lawyer, scraping a little upon the violoncello, and being a member of the gentlemen’s concert in Edinburgh, was so greatly delighted with this mode of spending the evening that I doubt if he once thought of the wild ducks until Barnes informed the company that supper was ready.
‘Tell Mrs. Allan to have something in readiness,’ said the Colonel; ‘I expect--that is, I hope--perhaps some company may be here to-night; and let the men sit up, and do not lock the upper gate on the lawn until I desire you.’
‘Lord, sir,’ said Julia, ‘whom can you possibly expect to-night?’