Scoutbush enters, is introduced, and receives a salutation from the
actress haughty and cold enough to check the forwardest; puts on the
air of languid nonchalance which is considered (or was before the
little experiences of the Crimea) fit and proper for young gentlemen
of rank and fashion. So he sits down, and feasts his foolish eyes upon
his idol, hoping for a few words before the evening is over. Did I not
say well, then, that there was as much meekness and humility under
Scoutbush's white cravat as under others? But his little joy is
soon dashed; for the black boy announces (seemingly much to his own
pleasure) a tall personage, whom, from his dress and his moustachio,
Scoutbush takes for a Frenchman, till he hears him called Stangrave.
The intruder is introduced to Lord Scoutbush, which ceremony is
consummated by a microscopic nod on either side; he then walks
straight up to La Cordifiamma; and Scoutbush sees her cheeks flush as
he does so. He takes her hand, speaks to her in a low voice, and sits
down by her, Claude making room for him; and the two engage earnestly
in conversation.
Scoutbush is much inclined to walk out of the room;--was he brought
there to see that? Of course, however, he sits still, keeps his own
counsel, and makes himself agreeable enough all the evening, like a
good-natured kind-hearted little man, as he is. Whereby he is repaid;
for the conversation soon becomes deep, and even too deep for him; and
he is fain to drop out of the race, and leave it to his idol and to
the new-comer, who seems to have seen, and done, and read everything
in heaven and earth, and probably bought everything also; not to
mention that he would be happy to sell the said universe again, at a
very cheap price, if any one would kindly take it off his hands.
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