the foundling
‘Well, well, that is looking some way ahead!’ said his lordship indulgently. ‘You will scarcely wish for any large shooting parties until November!’ The second course here made its appearance, and a fresh array of silver dishes was set out. Some pigeons and a hare constituted the main features, but there were besides a quantity of vegetables, and several creams, jellies, and cakes, including, as Miss Scamblesby was quick to perceive, a Gâteau Mellifleur, to which she was extremely partial. Lady Lionel helped herself from a dish of artichoke bottoms in sauce. ‘I have been thinking,’ she said. ‘If you should care for it, Gilly, we could get up a rubber of whist after dinner. I daresay we might prevail upon our good Mr Romsey to take a hand, and if he does not care to, Amelia does not play so very ill.’ Her husband set his wineglass down rather hurriedly, and said with more haste than civility that she must know that Gilly disliked whist. Then, perceiving quadrille in her eye, he added: ‘Or any other game of cards. Besides, I have just recollected that Chigwell brought up the mails from the receiving-office this afternoon, and there is a letter for you from your Uncle Henry, Gilly. I will give it to you after dinner.’ The Duke’s entertainment having been thus provided for, Lady Lionel was able to relapse into indolence, merely wondering in an idle fashion what Lord Henry could be writing to Gilly about. Miss Scamblesby said that it seemed a long time since they had had the felicity of seeing dear Lord and Lady Henry Ware at Sale; and Mr Romsey asked if Mr Matthew was not now a freshman up at Oxford. ‘No, he is entering on his third year,’ the Duke replied. ‘But not, I fancy, at our college, my lord?’ Mr Romsey said playfully. As Mr Romsey was a Balliol scholar, and the Duke had been at Christ Church, the possessive pronoun could only be taken to 17
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