The whole party attended them to the spot where the carriages were waiting. On reaching them, Mr Bolingbroke, handing in Mrs De Courcy, left Laura's side for the first time free to Hargrave, who instantly occupied it; while Montague, the drops standing on his forehead, found himself shackled between Mrs Penelope and Miss Bolingbroke. 'Ever dear, ever revered Miss Montreville'--Hargrave began in an insinuating whisper. 'Sir!' cried Laura, starting with indignant surprise. 'Nay, start not,' continued he in an under voice; 'I have much, much to say. Lady Pelham allows me to visit Walbourne; will you permit me to'--Laura had not yet studied her lesson of easy civility, and therefore the courtesy of a slight inclination of the head was contradicted by the tone in which she interrupted him, saying, 'I never presume, Sir, to select Lady Pelham's visitors.' She had reached the door of the carriage, and Hargrave took her hand to assist her in entering. Had Laura been prepared, she would have suffered him, though reluctantly, to do her this little service; but he took her unawares, and snatching back her hand as from the touch of a loathsome reptile, she sprang, unassisted, into her seat. As the carriage drove off, Mrs De Courcy again apologized for separating Laura from her companions; 'though I know not,' added she, 'whether I should not rather take credit for withdrawing you from such dangerous society. All ladies who have stray hearts must guard them either in person or by proxy, since this formidable Colonel Hargrave has come among us.' 'He has fortunately placed the more respectable part of us in perfect security,' returned Laura, with a smile and voice of such unembarrassed simplicity as fully satisfied her examiner. Had Laura spent a lifetime in studying to give pain, which, indeed, was not in all her thoughts, she could not have inflicted a sharper sting on the proud heart of Hargrave, than by the involuntary look and gesture with which she quitted him. The idea of inspiring with disgust, unmixed irresistible disgust, the woman upon whose affections, or rather upon whose passions, he had laboured so zealously and so long, had ever been more than he could bear, even when the expression of her dislike had no witness; but now she had published it to chattering misses and prying old maids, and more favoured rivals. Hargrave bit his lip till the blood came; and, if the lightning of the eye could scathe, his wrath had been far more deadly to others.