"If you doubt honest Lobo's ability to drive you safe home," said
L'Isle, "though I do not, perhaps your own man may be more skilful."
"What! cut down my two yards of footman into a postillion?" exclaimed
Lady Mabel; "on a mule, too! Why, he would rebel against such
degradation!"
"It would be promotion," said L'Isle, laughing, "to put a footman into
the saddle; and William would be of use for once in his life."
"Neither I nor nature demand usefulness of him. His whole capital
consists in being a tall footman, who becomes his livery; and he
fulfills his destiny when both he and it excite the admiration of the
Elvas ladies."
The coach presently turned into the olive yard, and drew up before the
old monastic pile without accident. L'Isle was surprised to see the
inhabited part of the building brightly lighted up at this late
hour. Old Moodie, looking graver and more sour than ever, was at the
open door. L'Isle handed Lady Mabel out of the coach, and she coolly
took his arm, showing that he was expected to hand her up stairs,
before taking leave of her. Moodie followed them into the
drawing-room, and said abruptly, "Well, my lady, will you have supper
now?"
"Certainly, if it be ready.
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