It did not concern Livia to hear what these were. Back to Baden, with
means to procure the pleasant shocks of the galvanic battery there, was
her thought; for she had a fear of the earl's having again departed in a
huff at Henrietta's behaviour.

The admiral consented that his daughter should go, as soon as he heard
that Miss Kirby was to stay. He had when a young man met her famous
father; he vowed she was the Old Buccaneer young again in petticoats and
had made prize of an English man-of-war by storm; all the profit,
however, being his. This he proved with a courteous clasp of the girl
and a show of the salute on her cheek, which he presumed to take at the
night's farewell. 'She's my tonic,' he proclaimed heartily. She seemed
to Livia somewhat unstrung and toneless. The separation from her brother
in the morning might account for it. And a man of the admiral's age
could be excused if he exalted the girl. Senility, like infancy, is fond
of plain outlines for the laying on of its paints. The girl had rugged
brows, a short nose, red hair; no young man would look at her twice. She
was utterly unlike Chillon! Kissing her hand to Henrietta from the steps
of the hotel, the girl's face improved.

Livia's little squire, Sir Meeson Corby, ejaculated as they were driving
down the main street, 'Fleetwood's tramp! There he goes. Now see, Miss
Fakenham, the kind of object Lord Fleetwood picks up and calls friend!--
calls that object friend! . . But, what? He has been to a tailor and
a barber!'

'Stop the coachman. Run, tell Mr. Woodseer I wish him to join us,' Livia
said, and Sir Meeson had to thank his tramp for a second indignity. He
protested, he simulated remonstrance,--he had to go, really feeling a