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Updated: June 13, 2025
This afternoon I had a letter from Mr. Creed, who hath escaped narrowly in the King's yacht, and got safe to the Downs after the late storm; and that there the King do tell him, that he is sure that my Lord is landed at Callis safe, of which being glad, I sent news thereof to my Lord Crew, and by the post to my Lady into the country.
Miss Callis had begun to look embarrassed by my hand, but I still permitted it to nestle confidingly in hers. "He pronounces all his g's," I said, "and did you ever see him in a silk hat?" "I don't think you are really attached to him, dear." "I sometimes think," I murmured, "that one never knows one's own heart until some sudden circumstance puts it to the test.
Miss Callis, with four thousand dollars a year of her own, was going to offer them up to sustain the traditions of her country. A Count, if she could help it, should not go a-begging more than twice.
It was the only place in the hotel that did not smell of furniture, so we frequented it. So did Mr. Malt and Mrs. Malt, and Emmeline Malt, and Miss Callis. That was chiefly how we made the acquaintance of the Malt party. You can't very well sit out in the dark in a foreign capital with a family from your own State and not get to know them.
Further impressions were lost in the shock of greeting, but it recurred to me instantly to wonder whether Miss Callis had really gone into the question of keeping a Count on that income, whether she would be able to give him all the luxuries he had been brought up in anticipation of.
"Where are they? I should be glad to see them. Great Scott! if it comes to that, I should be glad to see a blooming Englishman!" It wasn't an answer to prayer, for there had been no opportunity for devotion, but at that moment the door opened and admitted Mr., Mrs., and Miss Emmeline Malt, and Miss Callis.
"I mean I have myself to blame, I know," and as Mr. Mafferton dropped into the seat opposite Miss Callis I saw Mrs. Portheris regard him austerely, as one for whom it was possible to make too much allowance.
For the Count had melted away, and Miss Callis was not nearly so much occupied with her novel as she appeared to be. Mr. Mafferton rose, and again stroked his moustache, with a quizzical disciplinary air. "Oh woman, in your hours of ease Uncertain, coy, and hard to please!" He quoted. "You are a very whimsical young lady, but since you send me away I must abandon you." "Thanks so much!" I said.
She called herself a child of nature, but she really resided in Brooklyn. The Senator said we had not. "Then don't you go, Mr. Wick. There's a picture there " "We never look at such pictures, Miss Callis," momma interrupted. "It's so French," said Miss Callis. Momma drew her shawl round her preparatory to withdrawing, but it was too late. "Too French for words," continued Miss Callis.
"The poet Lamartine, with a note-book and pencil in his hand, seated in a triumphal chariot, drawn through the clouds by beautiful Muses." "Oh," said momma, in a relieved voice, "there's nothing so dreadfully French about that." "You should have seen it," said Miss Callis. "It was simply immoral. Lamartine was in a frock coat!"
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