THE PRINCE
"That will be charming. Say we're all right."
"All right—precisely. I can't say more," Mrs. Assingham smiled.
"No doubt." But he considered as for the possible importance of it. "Neither can you, by what I seem to feel, say less."
"Oh I won't say less!" Fanny laughed; with which the next moment she had turned away. But they had it again, not less bravely, on the morrow, after breakfast, in the thick of the advancing carriages and the exchange of farewells. "I think I'll send home my maid from Euston," she was then prepared to amend, "and go to Eaton Square straight. So you can be easy."
"Oh I think we're easy," the Prince returned. "Be sure to say, at any rate, that we're bearing up."
"You're bearing up—good. And Charlotte returns to dinner?"
"To dinner. We're not likely, I think, to make another night away."
"Well then I wish you at least a pleasant day."
"Oh," he laughed as they separated, "we shall do our best for it!"—after which, in due course, with the announcement of their conveyance, the Assinghams rolled off.
