Reclining on a couch in a boudoir, which she was assured was the exact
facsimile of that of Marie Antoinette, Lady Monteagle, with an eye
sparkling with excitement and a cheek flushed with emotion, appeared
deeply interested in a volume, from which she raised her hand as her
husband entered the room.
'Gertrude, my love,' said his lordship, 'I have asked the new bishop
to dine with us to-day.'
'My dear Henry,' replied her ladyship, 'what could induce you to do
anything so strange?'
'I suppose I have made a mistake, as usual,' said his lordship,
shrugging his shoulders, with a smile.
'My dear Henry, you know you may ask whomever you like to your house.
I never find fault with what you do. But what could induce you to ask
a Tory bishop to meet a dozen of our own people?'
'I thought I had done wrong directly I had asked him,' rejoined his
lordship; 'and yet he would not have come if I had not made such a
point of it. I think I will put him off.'
'No, my love, that would be wrong; you cannot do that.'
'I cannot think how it came into my head. The fact is, I lost my
presence of mind. You know he was my tutor at Christchurch, when poor
dear Herbert and I were such friends, and very kind he was to us both;
and so, the moment I saw him, I walked across the House, introduced
myself, and asked him to dinner.
Pages:
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302