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420 THE ADVENTURES OF PHILIP
out, " My daughter is lying down, and has a bad headache, I am
sorry to say," and then she must have had the mortification to see
Hely caper off, after waving her a genteel adieu. The ladies in the
front salon, who assembled after dinner, witnessed the transaction,
and Mrs. Bunch, I daresay, had a grim pleasure at seeing Eliza
Baynes's young sprig of fashion, of whom Eliza was for ever bragging,
come at last, and obliged to ride away, not bootless, certainly
(for where were feet more beautifully chaussés ?), but after a bootless
errand.
Meanwhile the gentlemen sat a while in the dining-room, after
the British custom which such veterans liked too well to give up.
Other two gentlemen boarders went away, rather alarmed by that
storm and outbreak in which Charlotte had quitted the dinner-table,
and left the old soldiers together, to enjoy, according to their afterdinner
custom, a sober glass of " something hot," as the saying is.
In truth, Madame's wine was of the poorest ; but what better could
you expect for the money ?
Baynes was not eager to be alone with Bunch, and I have no
doubt began to blush again when he found himself tete-a-tete with
his old friend. But what was to be done ? The General did not
dare to go upstairs to his own quarters, where poor Charlotte was
probably crying, and her mother in one of her tantrums. Then in
the salon there were the ladies of the boarding-house party, and there
Mrs. Bunch would be sure to be at him. Indeed, since the Bayneses
were launched in the great world, Mrs. Bunch was untiringly
sarcastic in her remarks about lords, ladies, attache's, ambassadors,
and fine people in general. So Baynes sat with his friend, in the
falling evening, in much silence, dipping his old nose in the brandyand-water.
Little square-faced, red-faced, whisker-dyed Colonel Bunch sat
opposite his old companion, regarding him not without scorn.
Bunch had a wife. Bunch had feelings. Do you suppose those
feelings had not been worked upon by that wife in private
colloquies? Do you suppose—when two old women have lived
together in pretty much the same rank of life—if one suddenly
gets promotion, is carried off to higher spheres, and talks of her
new friends, the countesses, duchesses, ambassadresses, as of course
she will—do you suppose, I say, that the unsuccessful woman will
be pleased at the successful woman's success? Your knowledge
of your own heart, my dear lady, must tell you the truth in this
matter. I don't want you to acknowledge that you are angry
because your sister has been staying with the Duchess of Fitzbattleaxe,
but you are, you know. You have made sneering
remarks to your husband on the subject, and such remarks, I