But he was not to be
daunted; he said he would give up only when Roderick assured him that
the expedition was quite impracticable and useless.
"I hear you are going after the deer to-morrow," said the pretty Miss
Georgie Lestrange to him, in the drawing-room after dinner, while Lady
Sybil was performing her famous fantasia "The Voices of the Moonlight,"
to which nobody listened but her own admiring self. "And I was told all
about that custom of making the stalker a little present on his setting
out, for good-luck. It was Honnor Cunyngham who did that for you last
time, and I think it should be my turn to-morrow morning."
"Oh, thank you!" said he; but "Thank you for nothing!" he said in his
heart; for why should any frivolous trinket--even when presented by this
very charming and complaisant young damsel--be allowed to interfere with
the prerogative of Miss Cunyngham's sacred talisman?
"I say," continued the bright-eyed, ruddy-haired lass, "what do you and
Honnor Cunyngham talk about all day long, when you are away on those
fishing excursions? Don't you bore each other to death? Oh, I know she's
rather learned, though she doesn't bestow much of her knowledge upon us.
Pages:
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319