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'Yes, partly; and I like her, too. She is very kind to me. 'You will have a chance of seeing her soon. When the door is nicely open you can look in for a moment. I must leave you now for a few minutes, but I will come again. Menlove departed, and Picotee stood waiting.
Sure enough, when she had got into the park, up came master Joe, smoking a cigar. As soon as they had met I went towards them, and Menlove, seeing somebody draw nigh, began to edge off, when the blockhead said, "Never mind, my love, it is only the old man."
'I was so anxious to tell you something I heard of, and to know what you did; but my eyes would shut, try as I might, and then I tried no longer. Did you see me at all, Berta? 'Never once. I had an impression that you were there. I fancied you were from father's carefully vacuous look whenever I glanced at his face. But were you careful about what you said, and did you see Menlove?
Long before this time Picotee had begun to be anxious to get home again, but Menlove seemed particularly to desire her company, and pressed her to sit awhile, telling her young friend, by way of entertainment, of various extraordinary love adventures in which she had figured as heroine when travelling on the Continent.
'These are some of the best built houses in London double floors, filled in with material that will deaden any row you like to make, and we make none. But come and have a turn yourself, Miss Chickerel. The young man relinquished Menlove, and on the spur of the moment seized Picotee.
In the ripple of conversation Ethelberta's clear voice could occasionally be heard, and her young sister could see that her eyes were bright, and her face beaming, as if divers social wants and looming penuriousness had never been within her experience. Mr. Doncastle was quite absorbed in what she was saying. So was the queer old man whom Menlove had called Lord Mountclere.
The young girl's eyes had not drooped over the handrail more than a few moments when she softly exclaimed, 'There she is, there she is! How lovely she looks, does she not? 'Who? said Mrs. Menlove. Picotee recollected herself, and hastily drew in her impulses. 'My dear mistress, she said blandly. 'That is she on Mr. Doncastle's arm.
'Now look over the balustrade, and you will see them all in a minute, said Mrs. Menlove. 'O, you need not be timid; you can look out as far as you like. We are all independent here; no slavery for us: it is not as it is in the country, where servants are considered to be of different blood and bone from their employers, and to have no eyes for anything but their work. Here they are coming.
Menlove went on building up Mrs. Doncastle's hair awhile in silence. 'I suppose you heard the other news that arrived in town to-day, m'm? she said again. 'Lord Mountclere is going to be married to-morrow. 'To-morrow? Are you quite sure? 'O yes, m'm. Mr. Tipman has just told me so in his letter. He is going to be married to Mrs. Petherwin. It is to be quite a private wedding. Mrs.
Neigh at being compelled to tell it, that the lady is one of those in the drawing-room. I should like to know which it was. 'I know have heard something about it, said Picotee, blushing with anger. 'It was nothing at all like that. I wonder Mr. Neigh had the audacity ever to talk of the matter, and to misrepresent it so greatly! 'Tell all about it, do, said Menlove. 'O no, said Picotee.