Here he paused again - my uncle made a movement of anxious curiosity.
"Excuse me," said the Marquis - a slight blush streaking his sullen
visage. "There are some circumstances connected with our family history
which I do not like to relate. That was a rude period. A time of great
crimes among great men: for you know high blood, when it runs wrong,
will not run tamely like blood of the canaille - poor lady! - But I
have a little family pride, that - excuse me - we will change the subject
if you please." -
My uncle's curiosity was piqued. The pompous and magnificent
introduction had led him to expect something wonderful in the story to
which it served as a kind of avenue. He had no idea of being cheated
out of it by a sudden fit of unreasonable squeamishness. Besides, being
a traveller, in quest of information, considered it his duty to inquire
into every thing.
The Marquis, however, evaded every question.
"Well," said my uncle, a little petulantly, "whatever you may think of
it, I saw that lady last night."
The Marquis stepped back and gazed at him with surprise.
"She paid me a visit in my bed-chamber."
The Marquis pulled out his snuff-box with a shrug and a smile; taking
it no doubt for an awkward piece of English pleasantry, which
politeness required him to be charmed with.
