raded into
snares for betrayal,--this is an offence that cries aloud to Heaven!
"No more tea,--none!" cried I, with an energy that nearly made the
footman let the tray fall, and so far startled the old lady that she
dropped her knitting with a faint cry. As for his Excellency, he had
covered his face with the "Globe," and, I believe, was fast asleep.
I looked about for my hat to take my leave, when a sudden thought struck
me. "I will stay. I will sit down beside this old creature, and, for
once at least in her miserable life, she shall hear from the lips of a
man a language that is not that of the debauchee. Who knows what effect
one honest word of a true-hearted man may not work? I will try, at all
events," said I, and approached her. She did not, as I expected, make
room for me on the sofa beside her, and I was, therefore, obliged to
take a chair in front. This was so far awkward that it looked formal; it
gave somewhat the character of accusation to my position, and I decided
to obviate the difficulty by assuming a light, easy, cheerful manner at
first, as though I suspected nothing.
"It's a pleasant little capital, this Kalbbratonstadt," said I, as I lay
back in my chair.
"Is it?" said she, dryly, without looking up from her work.
"Well, I mean," said I, "it seems to have its reasonable share of
resources. They have their theatre, and their music garden, and their
promenades, and their drives to--to--"
"You'll find all the names set down there," said she, handing me a copy
of Murray's "Handbook" that lay beside her.
"I care less for names than facts, madam," said I, angrily, for her
retort had stung me, and routed all my previous intention of a smooth
approach to the fortress. "I am one of those unfashionable people who
never think the better of vice because it wears French gloves, and goes
perfumed with Ess bouquet."
She took off her spectacles, wiped them, looked at me, and went on with
her work without speaking.
"If I appear abrupt, madam," said I, "in this opening, it is because
the opportunity I now enjoy may never occur again, and may be of the
briefest even now. We meet by what many would call an accident,--one of
those incidents which the thoughtless call chance directed my steps to
this place; let me hope that that which seemed a hazard may bear all
the fruits of maturest combination, and that the weak words of one frail
even as yourself may not be heard by you in vain. Let me, therefore,
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