'The compliment is a very poor one,' said the judge.
'Never mind that. I like wit and genius too; but wit and genius are none the better for being ugly: and wit and genius should know how to butter their own bread before they think of taking a wife.'
'You forget, my dear, that for aught we know wit and genius may be perfectly free from any such thought.' And then the judge made it understood that if he were left to himself he would dress for dinner.
When the ladies left the parlour that evening they found Graham in the drawing-room, but there was no longer any necessity for embarrassment on Madeline's part at meeting him. They had been in the room together on three or four occasions, and therefore she could give him her hand, and ask after his arm without feeling that every one was watching her. But she hardly spoke to him beyond this, nor indeed did she speak much to anybody. The conversation, till the gentlemen joined them, was chiefly kept up by Sophia Furnival and Mrs. Arbuthnot, and even after that the evening did not pass very briskly.
One little scene there was, during which poor Lady Staveley's eyes were anxiously fixed upon her son, though most of those in the room supposed that she was sleeping. Miss Furnival was to return to London on the following day, and it therefore behoved Augustus to be very sad. In truth he had been rather given to a melancholy humour during the last day or two. Had Miss Furnival accepted all his civil speeches, making him answers equally civil, the matter might very probably have passed by without giving special trouble to any one. But she had not done this, and therefore Augustus Staveley had fancied himself to be really in love with her. What the lady's intentions were I will not pretend to say; but if she was in truth desirous of becoming Mrs. Staveley, she certainly went about her business in a discreet and wise manner.
'So you leave us to-morrow, immediately after breakfast,' said he, having dressed his face with that romantic sobriety which he had been practising for the last three days.
'I am sorry to say that such is the fact,' said Sophia.
'To tell you the truth I am not sorry,' said Augustus; and he turned away his face for a moment, giving a long sigh.
'I dare say not, Mr. Staveley; but you need not have said so to me,' said Sophia, pretending to take him literally at his word.
'Because I cannot stand this kind of thing any longer. I suppose I must not see you in the morning,—alone?'
'Well, I suppose not. If I can get down to prayers after having all my things packed up, it will be as much as I can do.'
'And if I begged for half an hour as a last kindness———'
'I certainly should not grant it. Go and ask your mother whether such a request would be reasonable.'
'Psha!'
