Read Online The Determined Bachelor by Judith Harkness - Free Book Online Page A

the correct thing at the correct moment, all with the most keen attention to form. To all outward appearances, this must make him amiable, but he lacks any of that warmth, or spark of feeling, which is an absolute requirement of mine for perfect agreeableness. He greeted me very handsomely, but with a sort of stiffness which made me think, as he was inquiring about my journey, the state of my health, whether or nor I was tired, etc., that we were statues speaking to each other across a gully. At dinner, which they had put off on my account, he exhausted himself at once of speaking to me. Thereafter, he addressed himself solely to Lady Cardovan, and she, with some little smiles, replied always to me, as though she were translating for her friend. I do not know if he is more afraid of me as a governess or as a woman—but I am inclined tothink a little of both. He is one of those gentlemen who has already made up his mind before he converses two minutes with a female that she has nothing of interest to say.
    All this makes him seem like something less than flesh and blood. I cannot make out what makes him laugh or cry, but as you know my weakness, you may be sure that I am set upon finding some trace of humour even in him . Only from my first impression, that must come from circumstance rather than inbred eccentricities. I do not doubt Sir Basil has plenty of those (as who amongst us does not?), only they are of the type which must be put into relief by situation. And, Ben, for circumstances, you have not long to wait: barely twelve hours after setting foot in Regent’s Terrace, we were off again to meet my little charge, Miss Lessington. From only the briefest sketch of her, you shall see instantly that here is a challenge even to Sir Basil’s equanimity and composure.
    We were to collect the little girl at the office of Sir Basil’s solicitor, in Harley Street. Thither we drove, in all the elegance of Lady Cardovan’s carriage, Sir Basil staring straight ahead of him with a perfectly pained expression upon his face, as if he was driving to his own funeral. Her ladyship, meanwhile, attempted to enliven the journey by giving me an account of every building we passed, and now and then recounting some humorous anecdote in an attempt to bring a smile to the Ambassador’s face. Nothing availed, however, and although I was perfectly amused during the whole drive, the object of her solicitations remained stonily silent, whether from fright or displeasure, I do not know. The solicitor, a Mr. Hawke-Smythe (who looks amazingly like the first part of his name), we found sitting behind his desk, well littered with documents, in an office so dark and musty that for a while I thought we had really entered a tomb and began to suppose Sir Basil’s terror had not been unjustified. Mr. Hawke-Smythe, a cadaverous person with a great head waggling above his long and knotty throat, rose very gravely to meet us. His solemnity was all the more astounding as, after some few moments, I noticed a little girl sitting perfectly upright in a chair to one side of his desk. She had the brightest expression in the world upon her face, which was as shining and rosy as the lawyer’s was gray. She was dressed in the most remarkable fashion; a tartan bonnet perched upon her black curls, a scarlet cape about her small shoulders, and a plum woolen frock beneath. She looked exactly like a cheerfullittle elf, or perhaps more truthfully, a wandering gypsy child. She greeted us in a high bright voice, and remained as unperturbed as you please throughout the whole business. Said Mr. Hawk-Smythe (with many apologetic rumbles), “I have just been entertained this half hour by your ward’s chatter, Your Excellency.” Sir Basil bowed, took the little girl’s hand, and made some rather stiff comment about how pleased he was to make her acquaintance. Miss Elf smiled like a queen, made her courtsey, and replied: “Likewise,