“I grant it,” he replied; “but then her paleness—is—is—her looks altogether are so—in fact, you may understand me, Lady Emily—she is, in consequence of her very delicate health—in consequence of that, I say, she is more like a corpse than a living being—in complexion I mean. And now, my dear Lady Emily, will you hurry her? I am anxious—that is to say, we all are—to have the ceremony over as soon as it possibly can. She will then feel better, of course.”
Dr. Sombre, seeing that one of the necessary audience to his little homily had disappeared, seemed rather disappointed, but addressed himself to Roberts upon a very different subject.
“I dare say,” said he, “we shall have a very capital dejeuner to-day.”
Roberts was startled at the rapid and carnal nature of the transition in such a reverend-looking old gentleman; but as the! poor Doctor had sustained a disappointment on the subject of the homily, he was determined to afford him some comfort on this.
“I understand,” said he, “from the best authority, that nothing like it has been seen for years in the city. Several of the nobility and gentry have privately solicited Sir Thomas for copies of the bill of fare.”
“That is all right,” replied the Doctor, “that is all excellent, my good young friend. Who is that large gentleman who has just come in?”
“Why, sir,” replied Roberts, astonished, “that is Sir Thomas Gourlay himself.”
“Bless me, and so it is,” replied the Doctor; “he is getting very fat—eh? Ay, all right, and will make excellent eating if the cooking be good.”
Roberts saw at once what the worthy Doctor was thinking of, and resolved Lo suggest some other topic, if it were only to punish him for bestowing such attention upon a subject so much at variance with thoughts that ought to occupy the mind of a minister of God.
“I have heard, Doctor, that you are a bachelor,” said he. “How did it happen, pray, that you kept aloof from marriage?”