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"He thinks so, but nobody knows with those boys! I had to tell him at last that I would not have any philandering on board MY ship; and whatever he might think it his duty to say, must be put off for aunt sister Gorgon Medusa or what not. And I don't think he's very bad, Fly, for he modestly asked permission to sketch Francie's head for St.
To Clement the surprise was far greater than it would have been to his sister, and the experience was almost new to him, but he could read Francie's face well enough to say "My dear, I think we had better let you run in and compose yourself, or go to your aunt, while I talk to Lord Ivinghoe." Trembling, frightened, Francie was really glad to be released, as her lover with one pressure said
He was but a pawn in the game, but what did that matter? Eighteen miles absolutely alone with her! And possibly half of them in the dark! No saddle horse in the world could have tempted him now. He could hardly speak his gratitude and joy. "Delighted, Miss Deborah! delighted! delighted!" But Dalzell, black as thunder, swung aside, muttering in his teeth. "Oh, oh!" Francie's loud whisper followed.
He's behaved ill eneuch wantin that lattin a gowk o' a lassie like you believe what ye likit, and him only carryin on wi' ye for the ploy o' 't, haeing naething to du, and sick o' his ain toom heid and still toomer hert; but a man's word's his word, and Francie's no sae ill as your tale wud mak him! There, Phemy, I hae said my say! She loosened her arms.
"Well, sir, what have you got to show?" asked Francie's father, leaning far back on the sofa and moving nothing but his head, and that very little, toward his interlocutor. Gaston was placed sidewise, a hand on each knee, almost facing him, on the edge of the seat. "To show, sir what do you mean?" "What do you do for a living? How do you subsist?" "Oh comfortably enough.
Mme. de Cliche smiled at her at any rate and kissed her, as if in fact there could be no mistake. She smiled also at Mr. Flack, on Francie's introducing him, and only looked grave when, after she had asked where the others were the papa and the grande soeur the girl replied that she hadn't the least idea: her party consisted only of herself and Mr. Flack.
"What is another quarter, mother?" inquired Francie, whose mental agility is somewhat embarrassing. "Oh, why, well, it is any other place than the one you are talking about. Do you see?" "Not so very well, but p'r'aps I will in a minute." "Hope springs eternal!" quoted Francie's father.
Francie's visitor came down a few minutes later and passed through the court and out of the hotel without looking at them. Mr. Dosson had been going to call after him, but Delia checked him with a violent pinch. The unsociable manner of the young journalist's departure deepened Mr. Dosson's dull ache over the mystery of things.
"Oh, if you are happy! But I am so surprised. Who is it?" "Guess," said Deb. "I could not. I haven't an idea. Some Englishman, of course." Deb shook her head. "European, then? Some prince or count, as big as Francie's, or bigger?" Deb wrinkled a disdainful nose. "It is no use, Moll; you would not come near it in fifty tries. I'll tell you Claud Dalzell." "What the deadly enemy!"
In fact he declines to do it, and requests that you will send the pony home this afternoon. 'Excuse me, mem, but it's surely enough done that a man make known the presence o' strays, and tak proper care o' them until they're claimt! I was fain forbye to gie the bonny thing a bit pleesur in life: Francie's ower hard upon him. 'You forget, David Barclay, that Mr. Gordon is your landlord!
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