A Letter of Credit Part 47

"I'll bring you some if you like, and some of the meat."

"No, thank you," said Rotha, finis.h.i.+ng her pie and depositing that plate with the rest.

"You'll have time enough," said Lesbia sympathizingly. "They won't come up stairs; they stays down to see company."

"No, thank you," said Rotha again; but a new pang seized her. Company!

Mr. Digby would be company. What if he should come?

Lesbia went off with the tray, after casting several curious glances at the new comer, whom she had heard talked of enough to give her several clues. Rotha was left in the darkening dressing room; for the afternoon had come to its short November end.

CHAPTER XIII.

NOT DRESSED.

Mr. Digby did not come that evening. Next evening he did. He came early, just as the family had finished dinner. Mrs. Busby welcomed him with outstretched hand and a bland smile.

"I am so glad to see you, Mr. Southwode," she said, before he had time to begin anything. "I want to know what you think of this proposition to open picture galleries and libraries to the people on Sunday?"

"The arguments for it are plausible."

"Certainly plausible. What do you think?"

"It is of no consequence, is it, what any individual thinks?"

"Why yes, as it seems to me. By comparing views and the reasons given in support of the views, one may hope to attain some sound conclusion."

"Is it a matter for reason to consider?"

Mrs. Busby opened her eyes. "Is not everything that, Mr. Southwode?"

"I should answer 'no,' if I answered."

"Please answer, because I am very much in earnest; and I like to drive every question to the bottom. Give me an instance to the contrary."

"When you tell Miss Antoinette, for example, to put on india rubbers when she goes out in the wet, is she to exercise her reason upon the thickness of the soles of her boots?"

"Yes," cried the young lady referred to; "of course I am! India rubbers are horrid things anyhow; do you think I am going to put them on with boots an inch thick?"

Mr. Southwode turned his eyes upon her with one of his grave smiles. Mrs.

Busby seemed to ponder the subject.

"Is it raining to-night, Mr. Southwode?" Antoinette went on.

"Yes."

"How provoking! then I can't go out. Mr. Southwode, you never took me anywhere, to see anything."

"True, I believe," he answered. "How could I ask Mrs. Busby to trust me with the care of such an article?"

"What 'such an article'?"

"Subject to damage; in which case the damage would be very great."

"I am not subject to damage. I never get cold or anything. Mr. Southwode, won't you take me, some night, to see the Minstrels?"

"They are not much to see."

"But to hear, they are. Won't you, Mr. Southwode? I am crazy to hear them, and mamma won't take me; and papa never goes anywhere but to his office and to court; won't you, Mr. Southwode?"

"Perhaps; if Mrs. Busby will honour me so much."

"O mamma will trust _you_, I know. Then the first clear evening, Mr.

Southwode? the first that you are at leisure?"

Without answering her he turned to Mrs. Busby.

"How is Rotha?"

"Very well!" the lady answered smoothly.

"Shall I have the pleasure of seeing her?"

"I am afraid, not to-night. She was unable to come down stairs this afternoon, and so took her dinner alone. Next time, I hope, she will be able to see you."

Mr. Digby privately wondered what the detaining cause could be, but thought it most discreet not to inquire; at least, not in this quarter.

"Is the school question decided?" he therefore went on quietly.

"Why no. I have been debating the pros. and cons.; in which process one is very apt to get confused. As soon as one makes up one's mind to forego certain advantages in favour of certain others, the rejected ones immediately rise up in fresh colours of allurement before the mind, and disturb one's judgment, and the whole calculation has to be gone over again."

"The choice lies between--?"

"Mrs. Mulligan, Miss Wordsworth, and Mrs. Mowbray, have the highest name in the city."

"And may I know the supposed counter advantages and disadvantages?"

"I'll tell you, Mr. Southwode," said Antoinette. "At Mrs. Mulligan's you learn French and manners. At Miss Wordsworth's you learn arithmetic and spelling. At Mrs. Mowbray's you learn Latin and the Catechism."

Mr. Southwode looked to Mrs. Busby.

"That's rather a caricature," said the lady smiling; "but it has some truth. I think Mrs. Mowbray's is quite as fas.h.i.+onable a school as Mrs.

Mulligan's. It is quite as dear."

"Is it thought desirable, that it should be fas.h.i.+onable?"

"Certainly; for that shews what is public opinion. Besides, it secures one against undesirable companions for a girl. Both at Mrs. Mulligan's and Mrs. Mowbray's the pupils come from the very best families, both South and North. There is a certain security in that."