42
VIVIAN GREY.
trained punster, champagne, and cold pasties, what more ought Nature to have provided?
"Come, Mrs. Lorraine, I will tie Gypsey to this ash, and then you and I will rest ourselves beneath these birch trees, just where the fairies dance."
"Oh, delightful!"
"Now truly, we should have some book of beautiful poetry to while away an hour. You will blame me for not bringing one. Do not. I would sooner listen to your voice; and, indeed, there is a subject on which I wish to ask your particular advice."
"Is there?"
"I have been thinking that this is a somewhat rash step of the Marquess,—this throwing himself into the arms of his former bitterest enemy, Cleveland."
"You really think so?"
"Why, Mrs. Lorraine, does it appear to you
