If his commanding officer had not been an easy-going kind of man, he
would scarcely have got off so cheaply.
"I wonder how this fellow Granger would treat me, if he knew who I was?" he
thought to himself. "He'd inaugurate our acquaintance by kicking me out of
his house most likely, instead of asking me to luncheon." Notwithstanding
which opinion Mr. Austin sat down to share the sacred bread and salt with
his brother-in-law, and ate a cutlet _a la Maintenon_, and drank half a
bottle of claret, with a perfect enjoyment of the situation. He liked
the idea of being patronised by the man who would not have tolerated his
society for a moment, had he been aware of his identity.
He talked of Parisian life during luncheon, keeping carefully clear of all
subjects which the "young person," as represented by Miss Granger, might
blush to hear; and Mr. Granger, who had only an Englishman's knowledge of
the city, was amused by the pleasant gossip. The meal lasted longer than
usual, and lost all its wonted formality; and the fair Sophia found herself
more and more interested in this fascinating painter, with his brilliant
dark eyes, and sarcastic mouth, and generally agreeable manner. She
sat next him at luncheon, and, when there came a little pause in the
conversation, began to question him about the state of the Parisian poor.
It was very bad, was it not?
Mr. Austin shrugged his shoulders.
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