Lottie Pilgrim was standing under the hall burners with her elbow on the
newel-post, looking more vividly charming than he had ever seen her
before at Mrs. Cramcroud's sociable or elsewhere. When startled by the
apparition of Mr. Daniel Lovegrove instead of the little Rumbullion
whom she was expecting,--she had no time to exclaim or hide her mounting
color, none at all to explain to her own mind the mistake that had
occurred, before his arm was clasped around her waist, and his lips so
closely pressed to hers, that through her soft thick hair she could feel
the throbbing of his temples. As for Daniel, he seemed in a walking
dream, from which he waked to see Miss Pilgrim looking into his eyes
with utter though not incensed stupefaction,--to stammer,--
"Forgive me! Do forgive me! I thought you were in earnest."
"So I was," she said, tremulously, as soon as she could catch her voice,
"in sending for my cousin Reginald."
"Oh, dear, what shall I do! Believe me, I was told you wanted me,--let
me go and explain it to mother,--she'll tell the rest,--I couldn't do
it,--I'd die of mortification. Oh, that wretched boy Billy!"
On the principle already mentioned, his agitation reassured her.
"Don't try to explain it now,--it may get Billy a scolding. Are there
any but intimate family friends here this evening?"
"No--I believe--no--I'm sure," replied Daniel, collecting his
faculties.
"Then I don't mind what they think. Perhaps they'll suppose we've known
each other long; but we'll arrange it by-and-by. They'll think the more
of it the longer we stay out here,--hear them laugh! I must run back
now. I'll send you somebody."
A round of juvenile applause greeted her as she hurried into the parlor,
and a number of grown people smiled quite musically. Her quick woman-wit
showed her how to retaliate and divide the embarrassment of the
occasion. As she passed me she said in an undertone,--"Answer quick!
Who's that fat lady on the sofa, that laughs so loud?"
"Mrs. Cromwell Craggs," said I, as quietly.
Miss Pilgrim made a satirically low courtesy, and spoke in a modest but
distinct voice,--"I really must be excused for asking. I'm a stranger,
you know; but is there such a lady here as Mrs. Craggs,--Mrs. _Cromwell_
Craggs? For if so, the present doorkeeper would like to see Mrs.
Cromwell Craggs."
Then came the turn of the fat lady to be laughed at; but out she had to
go and get kissed like the rest of us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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