"Well, there certainly is not much to choose between her and the hills in point of age," allows Sir Penthony, absently--he is inwardly wondering where Cecil can have gone to,--"still she is a nice old lady."
"Quite so,--quite so; very elegant in manner, and in appearance decidedly high-bred."
"Hybrid!" exclaims Sir Penthony, purposely misunderstanding the word. "Oh, by Jove, I didn't think you so severe. You allude, of course, to her ladyship's mother, who, if report speaks truly, was a good cook spoiled by matrimony. 'Hybrid!' Give you my word, Buscarlet, I didn't believe you capable of anything half so clever. I must remember to tell it at dinner to the others. It is just the sort of thing to delight Mr. Amherst."
Now, this lawyer has a passion for the aristocracy. To be noticed by a lord,--to press "her ladyship's" hand,--to hold sweet converse with the smallest scion of a noble house,--is as honey to his lips; therefore to be thought guilty of an impertinence to one of this sacred community, to have uttered a word that, if repeated, would effectually close to him the doors of Lady Elizabeth's house, fills him with horror.
"My dear Sir Penthony, pardon me," he says, hastily, divided between the fear of offending the baronet and a desire to set himself straight in his own eyes, "you quite mistake me. 'Hybrid!'--such a word, such a thought, never occurred to me in connection with Lady Elizabeth Eyre, whom I hold in much reverence. Highly bred I meant. I assure you you altogether misunderstand. I--I never made a joke in my life."
"Then let me congratulate you on your maiden effort; you have every reason to be proud of it," laughs Sir Penthony, who is highly delighted at the success of his own manoeuvre. "Don't be modest. You have made a decided hit: it is as good a thing as ever I heard. But how about Lady Elizabeth, eh? should _she_ hear it? Really, you will have to suppress your wit, or it will lead you into trouble."
"But--but--if you will only allow me to explain--I protest I----"
"Ah! here come Lady Stafford and Miss Massereene. Positively you must allow me to tell them----" And, refusing to listen to Mr. Buscarlet's vehement protestations, he relates to the new-comers his version of the lawyer's harmless remark, accompanying the story with an expressive glance--that closely resembles a wink--at Lady Stafford. "I must go," he says, when he has finished, moving toward the door, "though I hardly think I do wisely, leaving, you alone with so dangerous a companion."