feast--so thick were the notes of intention in this remarkable speech. But she also felt that to plunge at random, to help herself too freely, would--apart from there not being at such a moment time for it--tend to jostle the ministering hand, confound the array and, more vulgarly speaking, make a mess. So she picked out, after consideration, a solitary plum. "So placed that YOU have to arrange?"
"Certainly I have to arrange."
"And the Prince also--if the effect for him is the same?"
"Really, I think, not less."
"And does he arrange," Mrs. Assingham asked, "to make up HIS arrears?" The question had risen to her lips--it was as if another morsel, on the dish, had tempted her. The sound of it struck her own ear, immediately, as giving out more of her thought than she had as yet intended; but she quickly saw that she must follow it up, at any risk, with simplicity, and that what was simplest was the ease of boldness. "Make them up, I mean, by coming to see YOU?"
Charlotte replied, however, without, as her friend would have phrased it, turning a hair. She shook her head, but it was beautifully gentle. "He never comes."
"Oh!" said Fanny Assingham: with which she felt a little stupid. "There it is. He might so well, you know, otherwise."
"'Otherwise'?"--and Fanny was still vague.
It passed, this time, over her companion, whose eyes, wandering, to a distance, found themselves held. The Prince was at hand again; the Ambassador was still at his side; they were stopped a moment by a uniformed personage, a little old man, of apparently the highest military character, bristling with medals and orders. This gave Charlotte time to go on. "He has not been for three months." And then as with her friend's last word in her ear: "'Otherwise'--yes. He arranges otherwise. And in my position," she added, "I might too. It's too absurd we shouldn't meet."
"You've met, I gather," said Fanny Assingham, "to-night."
"Yes--as far as that goes. But what I mean is that I might-- placed for it as we both are--go to see HIM."
