“I don’t know whether I like her or not, but there is
something rather distinguished-looking about her!”

“Do you think so?” said Miss Leyton, “I thought she only distinguished
herself by eating like a cormorant! I never saw anyone in society
gobble her food in such a manner! She made me positively sick!”

“Was it as bad as that?” replied the more quiet Mrs. Pullen, in
an indifferent manner. Her eyes were attracted just then by the
perambulator which contained her baby, and she rose to meet it. “How is she, Nurse?” she asked as anxiously as if she had not parted
from the infant an hour before. “Has she been awake all the time?”

“Yes, Ma’am, and looking about her like anything! But she seems
inclined to sleep now! I thought it was about time to take her in!”

“O! no! not on such a warm, lovely evening! If she does go to sleep in
the open air, it will do her no harm. Leave her with me! I want you to
go indoors, and find out the name of the young lady who sat opposite to
me at dinner to-day, Philippe understands English. He will tell you!”

“Why on earth do you want to know?” demanded Miss Leyton, as the
servant disappeared. “O! I don’t know! I feel a little curious, that is all! She seems so
young to be by herself!”

Elinor Leyton answered nothing, but walked across the Digue and stood,
looking out over the sea. She was anticipating the arrival of her
_fiancé_, Captain Ralph Pullen of the Limerick Rangers, but he had
delayed his coming to join them, and she began to find Heyst rather
dull. The visitors of the Lion d’Or had finished their meal by this time,
and were beginning to reassemble on the Digue, preparatory to taking a
stroll before they turned into one of the many _cafés-chantants_, which
were situated at stated intervals in front of the sea. Amongst them
came the Baroness Gobelli, leaning heavily on a thick stick with one
hand, and her husband’s shoulder with the other. The couple presented
an extraordinary appearance, as they perambulated slowly up and down
the Digue. She--with her great height and bulk, towering a head above her
companion, whilst he--with a full-sized torso, and short legs--a large
hat crammed down upon his forehead, and no neck to speak of, so that
the brim appeared to rest upon his shoulders--was a ludicrous figure,
as he walked beside his wife, bending under the weight of her support. But yet, she was actually proud of him. Notwithstanding his ill-shaped
figure, the Baron possessed one of those mild German faces, with pale
watery blue eyes, a long nose, and hair and beard of a reddish-golden
colour, which entitled him, in the estimation of some people, to be
called a handsome man, and the Baroness was never tired of informing
the public that his head and face had once been drawn for that of some
celebrated saint. Her own appearance was really comical, for though she had plenty of
means, her want of taste, or indifference to dress, made everyone stare
at her as she passed. On the present occasion, she wore a silk gown
which had cost seventeen shillings a yard, with a costly velvet cloak,
a bonnet which might have been rescued from the dustbin, and cotton
gloves with all her fingers out. She shook her thick walking-stick in
Miss Leyton’s face as she passed by her, and called out loud enough for
everyone to hear: “And when is the handsome Captain coming to join you,
Miss Leyton, eh? Take care he ain’t running after some other gal! ‘When
pensive I thought on my L.O.V.E.’ Ha! ha! ha!”

Elinor flushed a delicate pink but did not turn her head, nor take any
notice of her tormentor. She detested the Baroness with a perfectly
bitter hatred, and her proud cold nature revolted from her coarseness
and familiarity. “Tied to your brat again!” cried the Baroness, as she passed Margaret
Pullen who was moving the perambulator gently to and fro by the handle,
so as to keep her infant asleep; “why didn’t you put it in the tub as
soon as it was born? It would ’ave saved you a heap of trouble! I often
wish I had done so by that devil Bobby! ’Ere, where are you, Bobby?”

“I’m close behind you, Mamma!” replied the simple-looking youth. “Well! don’t you get running away from your father and me, and winking
at the gals! There’s time enough for that, ain’t there, Gustave?” she
concluded, addressing the Baron. “Come along, Robert, and mind what your mother tells you!” said the
Herr Baron with his guttural German accent, as the extraordinary trio
pursued their way down the Digue, the Baroness making audible remarks
on everybody she met, as they went. Margaret Pullen sat where they had left her, moving about the
perambulator, whilst her eyes, like Elinor’s, were fixed upon the
tranquil water. The August sun had now quite disappeared, and the
indescribably faint and unpleasant odour, which is associated with the
dunes of Heyst, had begun to make itself apparent. A still languor had
crept over everything, and there were indications of a thunderstorm
in the air. She was thinking of her husband, Colonel Arthur Pullen,
the elder brother of Miss Leyton’s _fiancé_, who was toiling out in
India for baby and herself. It had been a terrible blow to Margaret,
to let him go out alone after only one year of happy wedded life, but
the expected advent of her little daughter at the time, had prohibited
her undertaking so long a journey and she had been compelled to remain
behind. And now baby was six months old, and Colonel Pullen hoped to be
home by Christmas, so had advised her to wait for his return. But her
thoughts were sad sometimes, notwithstanding. Events happen so unexpectedly in this world--who could say for certain
that she and her husband would ever meet again--that Arthur would
ever see his little girl, or that she should live to place her in her
father’s arms? But such a state of feeling was morbid, she knew, and
she generally made an effort to shake it off. The nurse, returning
with the information she had sent her to acquire, roused her from her
reverie. “If you please, Ma’am, the young lady’s name is Brandt, and Philippe
says she came from London!”

“English! I should never have guessed it!” observed Mrs. Pullen, “She
speaks French so well.”

“Shall I take the baby now, Ma’am?”

“Yes! Wheel her along the Digue. I shall come and meet you by and by!”

As the servant obeyed her orders, she called to Miss Leyton. “Elinor! come here!”

“What is it?” asked Miss Leyton, seating herself beside her. “The new girl’s name is Brandt and she comes from England! Would you
have believed it?”

“I did not take sufficient interest in her to make any speculations on
the subject. I only observed that she had a mouth from ear to ear, and
ate like a pig!