"Then our ideas of angels agree no better than the rest. Why didn't you
come and hear the poll declared, after promising me you would be there?"
"Because I had a headache, Sir George."
He responded with a little inclination, as though ceremoniously accepting
her statement.
"May I ask at what time your headache began?"
"Let me see," she said, laughing; "I think it was directly after
breakfast."
"Yes. It declared itself, if I remember right, immediately after certain
remarks of mine about a Captain Addison?"
He looked straight before him, with a detached air.
"Yes," said Letty, thoughtfully; "it was a curious coincidence,
wasn't it?"
There was a moment's silence. Then she broke into infectious laughter.
"Don't you know," she said, laying her hand on his shoulder--"don't you
know that you're a most foolish and wasteful person? We get along
capitally, you and I--we've had a rattling time all this week--and then
you will go and make uncivil remarks about my friends--in public, too!
You actually think I'm going to let you tell Aunt Watton how to manage
me! You get me into no end of a fuss--it'll take me weeks to undo the
mischief you've been making--and then you expect me to take it like a
lamb! Now, do I look like a lamb?"
All this time she was holding him tight by the arm, and her dimpled face,
alive with mirth and malice, was so close to his that a moment's wild
impulse flashed through him to kiss her there and then. But the impulse
passed. He and Letty Sewell had known each other for about three weeks.
They were not engaged--far from it. And these--the hand on the arm, and
the rest--were Letty Sewell's ways.
Instead of kissing her, then, he scanned her deliberately.
"_I_ never saw anyone more plainly given over to obstinacy and pride,"
he said quietly; "I told you some plain facts about the character of a
man whom I know, and you don't, whereupon you sulk all day, you break
all your promises about coming to Malford, and when I come back you call
me names."
She raised her eyebrows and withdrew her hand.
"Well, it's plain, isn't it? that I must have been in a great rage. It
was very dull upstairs, though I did write reams to my best friend all
about you--a very candid account--I shall have to soften it down. By the
way, are you ever going to dress for dinner?"
George started, and looked at his watch.
"Are we alone? Is anyone coming from outside?"
"Only a few 'locals,' just to celebrate the occasion. I know the
clergyman's wife's coming, for she told me she had been copying one of my
frocks, and wanted me to tell her what I thought."
George laughed.
"Poor lady!"
"I don't _think_ I shall be nice to her," said Letty, playing with a
flower on the mantelpiece. "Dowdy people make me feel wicked. Well, _I_
must dress."
It was now his turn to lay a detaining hand.
"Are you sorry?" he said, bending over to her. His bright grey eyes had
shaken off fatigue.
"For what? Because you got in?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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