"If you please, my lady, Captain Kirton has been asking for you once or
twice," said Hedges, entering the dowager's private sitting-room.
"Then Captain Kirton must ask," retorted the dowager, who was sitting
down to her letters, which she had left unopened since their arrival in
the morning, in her anxiety for other interests. "Hedges, I should like
some supper: I had only a scrambling sort of dinner. You can bring it up
here. Something nice; and a bottle of champagne."
Hedges withdrew with the order, and Lady Kirton applied herself to her
letters. The first she opened was from the daughter who had married the
French count. It told a pitiful tale of distress, and humbly craved to be
permitted to come over on a fortnight's visit, she and her two sickly
children, "for a little change."
"I dare say!" emphatically cried the dowager. "What next? No, thank you,
my lady; now that I have at least a firm footing in this house--as that
blessed parson said--I am not going to risk it by filling it with every
bothering child I possess. Bob departs as soon as his leg's well. Why
what's this?"
She had come upon a concluding line as she was returning the letter to
the envelope. "P.S. If I don't hear from you _very_ decisively to the
contrary, I shall come, and trust to your good nature to forgive it. I
want to see Bob."
"Oh, that's it, is it!" said the dowager.
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