But Clara, recovering from her first stupor of wonder, began scolding him for presuming to laugh at anything so cruel to Louis.  It was not the part of a friend!  And with tears of indignation and sympathy starting from her eyes, she was pathetically certain that, though granny and Jem were so unfeeling as to laugh, his high spirits were only assumed to hide his suffering.  ’Poor Louis! what had he not said to her about Mary last night!  Now she knew what he meant!  And as to Mary, she was glad she had never liked her, she had no patience with her:  of course, she was far too prosy and stupid to care for anything like Louis, it was a great escape for him.  It would serve her right to marry a horrid little crooked clerk in her father’s office; and poor dear, dear Louis must get over it, and have the most beautiful wife in the world.  Don’t you remember, Jem, the lady with the splendid dark eyes on the platform at Euston Square, when you so nearly made us miss the train, with the brow that you said—­’

‘Hush, Clara, don’t talk nonsense.’

CHAPTER XII.

CHILDE ROLAND.

A house there is, and that’s enough,
From whence one fatal morning issues
A brace of warriors, not in buff,
But rustling in their silks and tissues. 
The heroines undertook the task;
Thro’ lanes unknown, o’er stiles they ventured,-
Rapped at the door, nor stayed to ask,
But bounce into the parlour entered. 

          
                                            Gray’s Long Story.

‘No carmine?  Nor scarlet lake in powder?’

‘Could procure some, my Lord.’

’Thank you, the actinia would not live.  I must take what I can find.  A lump of gamboge—­’

‘If you stay much longer, he will not retain his senses,’ muttered James Frost, who was leaning backwards against the counter, where the bewildered bookseller of the little coast-town of Bickleypool was bustling, in the vain endeavour to understand and fulfil the demands of that perplexing customer, Lord Fitzjocelyn.

’Some drawing-paper.  This is hardly absorbent enough.  If you have any block sketch-books?—­’

‘Could procure some, my Lord.’

James looked at his watch, while the man dived into his innermost recesses.  ‘The tide!’ he said.

‘Never mind, we shall only stick in the mud.’

’How could you expect to find anything here?  A half-crown paint-box is their wildest dream.’

’Keep quiet, Jem, go and look out some of those library books, like a wise man.’

‘A wise man would be at a loss here,’ said James, casting his eye along the battered purple backs of the circulating-library books.

’Wisdom won’t condescend!  Ah! thank you, this will do nicely.  Those colours—­yes; and the Seaside Book.  I’ll choose one or two.  What is most popular here?’