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第42章

"Divine! (I hate fish) I told Saunders all would be hungry and none shot; by the by, you are winged, I think you said, Saunders?"

"No, my lord! but look at my trousers."

The bullet had cut his pantaloons.

"I see--only barked; so go and see about our breakfast."

"Yes, my lord" _(faintly)._

"And draw on me for fifty pounds' worth of--new trousers."

Yes, my lord" _(sonorously)._

The duelists separated, Gatty taking the short cut to Newhaven; he proposed to take his favorite swim there, to refresh himself before breakfast; and he went from his lordship a little cheered by remarks which fell from him, and which, though vague, sounded friendly--poor fellow, except when he had a brush in hand he was a dreamer.

This viscount, who did not seem to trouble his head about class dignity, was to convert his mother from her aristocratic tendencies or something.

_Que sais-je?_ what will not a dreamer hope?

Lord Ipsden strolled along the sands, and judge his surprise, when, attended by two footmen, he met at that time in the morning Lady Barbara Sinclair Lord Ipsden had been so disheartened and piqued by this lady's conduct that for a whole week he had not been near her. This line of behavior sometimes answers.

She met him with a grand display of cordiality.

She inquired, "Whether he had heard of a most gallant action, that, coupled with another circumstance" _(here she smiled),_ "had in part reconciled her to the age we live in?"

He asked for further particulars.

She then informed him "that a ship had been ashore on the rocks, that no fisherman dared venture out, that a young gentleman had given them his whole fortune, and so bribed them to accompany him; that he had saved the ship and the men's lives, paid away his fortune, and lighted an odious cigar and gone home, never minding, amid the blessings and acclamations of a maritime population."

A beautiful story she told him; so beautiful, in fact, that until she had discoursed ten minutes he hardly recognized his own feat; but when he did he blushed inside as well as out with pleasure. Oh! music of music--praise from eloquent lips, and those lips the lips we love.

The next moment he felt ashamed; ashamed that Lady Barbara should praise him beyond his merits, as he conceived.

He made a faint hypocritical endeavor to moderate her eulogium; this gave matters an unexpected turn, Lady Barbara's eyes flashed defiance.

"I say it was a noble action, that one nursed in effeminacy (as you all are) should teach the hardy seamen to mock at peril--noble fellow!"

"He did a man's duty, Barbara."

"Ipsden, take care, you will make me hate you, if you detract from a deed you cannot emulate. This gentleman risked his own life to save others--he is a hero! I should know him by his face the moment I saw him. Oh, that I were such a man, or knew where to find such a creature!"

The water came into Lord Ipsden's eyes; he did not know what to say or do; he turned away his head. Lady Barbara was surprised; her conscience smote her.

"Oh, dear," said she, "there now, I have given you pain--forgive me; we can't all be heroes; dear Ipsden, don't think I despise you now as I used. Oh, no! I have heard of your goodness to the poor, and I have more experience now. There is nobody I esteem more than you, Richard, so you need not look so."

"Thank you, dearest Barbara."

"Yes, and if you were to be such a goose as to write me another letter proposing absurdities to me--"

"Would the answer be different?"

"Very different."

"Oh, Barbara, would you accept?"

"Why, of course not; but I would refuse civilly!"

"Ah!"

"There, don't sigh; I hate a sighing man. I'll tell you something that I know will make you laugh." She then smiled saucily in his face, and said, "Do you remember Mr.----?"

_L'effronte'e!_ this was the earnest man. But Ipsden was a match for her this time. "I think I do," said he; "a gentleman who wants to make John Bull little again into John Calf; but it won't do."

Her ladyship laughed. "Why did you not tell us that on Inch Coombe?"

"Because I had not read _The Catspaw_ then."

_"The Catspaw?_ Ah! I thought it could not be you. Whose is it?"

"Mr. Jerrold's."

"Then Mr. Jerrold is cleverer than you."

"It is possible."

"It is certain! Well, Mr. Jerrold and Lord Ipsden, you will both be glad to hear that it was, in point of fact, a bull that confuted the advocate of the Middle Ages; we were walking; he was telling me manhood was extinct except in a few earnest men who lived upon the past, its associations, its truth; when a horrid bull gave--oh--such a bellow! and came trotting up. I screamed and ran--I remember nothing but arriving at the stile, and lo, on the other side, offering me his arm with _empressment_ across the wooden barrier was--"

"Well?"

"Well! don't you see?"

"No--oh--yes, I see!--fancy--ah! Shall I tell you how he came to get first over? He ran more earnestly than you."

'It is not Mr. Jerrold this time, I presume," said her satirical ladyship.

"No! you cannot always have him. I venture to predict your ladyship on your return home gave this mediaeval personage his _conge'."_

"No!"

"No?"

"I gave it him at the stile! Let us be serious, if you please; I have a confidence to make you, Ipsden. Frankly, I owe you some apology for my conduct of late; I meant to be reserved--I have been rude--but you shall judge me. A year ago you made me some proposals; I rejected them because, though I like you--"

"You like me?"

"I detest your character. Since then, my West India estate has been turned into specie; that specie, the bulk of my fortune, placed on board a vessel; that vessel lost, at least we think so--she has not been heard of."

"My dear cousin."

"Do you comprehend that now I am cooler than ever to all young gentlemen who have large incomes, and" (holding out her hand like an angel) "I must trouble you to forgive me."

He kissed her lovely hand.

"I esteem you more and more," said he. "You ought, for it has been a hard struggle to me not to adore you, because you are so improved, _mon cousin."_

"Is it possible? In what respect?"

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