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We are to go into harbour to be paid off to-morrow, and as soon as I am free you must start with me for Texford, where my family are now residing. Captain Fancourt has already spoken to them of you, and you will receive a hearty welcome. No excuses, old fellow, you will be Captain Headland by that time, and that alone will be sufficient introduction to any family in the land." Headland hesitated.
As they all came out from luncheon General Fancourt took hold of him with an "I say, I want you to know my girl!" as if the idea had just occurred to him and he hadn't spoken of it before. With the other hand he possessed himself all paternally of the young lady. "You know all about him. I've seen you with his books. She reads everything everything!" he went on to Paul.
"You oughtn't to say that. They all read you." "Me? I should like to see them! Only two or three at most," the young man returned. "Did you ever hear anything like that? He knows, haughtily, how good he is!" St. George declared, laughing to Miss Fancourt. "They read me, but that doesn't make me like them any better. Come away from them, come away!" And he led the way out of the exhibition.
George had said; and now it struck him he should ask nothing better than to stay at home for ever. Late in the afternoon he took his way to Manchester Square, looking out for a number he hadn't forgotten. Miss Fancourt, however, was not at home, so that he turned rather dejectedly from the door.
Yet it's a kind of dishonour if you don't, when you want to do something, isn't it?" Miss Fancourt pursued, dropping one train in her quickness to take up another, an accident that was common with her. So these two young persons sat discussing high themes in their eclectic drawing-room, in their London "season" discussing, with extreme seriousness, the high theme of perfection.
This contemplation sat especially in the sad eyes of certain female heads, surmounted with hats of strange convolution and plumage, which rose on long necks above the others. One of the heads Paul perceived, was much the so most beautiful of the collection, and his next discovery was that it belonged to Miss Fancourt.
George was not one of the exceptions; that circumstance he definitely apprehended before the great man had turned his back to walk off with Miss Fancourt. He certainly looked better behind than any foreign man of letters showed for beautifully correct in his tall black hat and his superior frock coat.
As soon as the captain came on board, the frigate, slipping her moorings, glided out of harbour, and took up a berth near Lord Howe's fleet, which had a short time before arrived after the glorious victory of the 1st June. Captain Fancourt having sent for Harry, gave him a kind welcome, and said:
Some think she's a bit of a devil; but she can be a devil of a saint, that's all I've got to say." "Zoug-Zoug's responsible for the devil," said Fancourt to Bagshot. "Shut up, Fan," rejoined Bagshot, hurriedly, and then whispered to him quickly.
At all events he didn't come over though Miss Fancourt did as soon as she saw him she almost rushed at him, smiling rustling radiant beautiful. He had forgotten what her head, what her face offered to the sight; she was in white, there were gold figures on her dress and her hair was a casque of gold. He saw in a single moment that she was happy, happy with an aggressive splendour.
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