"Impossible," replied Diana, vexed at the turn his curiosity had taken; "I wrote to her about the insidious wretch, and now we don't speak." "Then I will introduce myself," answered he. He was moving away, when Miss Dundas caught his arm, and by various attempts at badinage and raillery, held him in his place until the countess had made her farewell curtsey to Lady Shafto, and the door was closed. Disappointed by this manoeuvre, Pembroke re-seated himself; and wondering why his aunt and cousin had not heard of Lady Tinemouth's arrival at Harrowby, he determined to wait on her next day. Regardless of every word which the provoked Diana addressed to him, he remained silent and meditating, until the loud voice of Shafto, bellowing in his ear, made him turn suddenly round. Miss Dundas tried to laugh at his reverie, though she knew that such a flagrant instance of inattention was death to her hopes; but Pembroke, not inclined to partake in the jest, coolly asked his bearish companion what he wanted? "Nothing," cried he, "but to hear you speak! Miss Dundas tells me you have lost your heart to yonder grim countess? My mother wanted me to gallant her up the hill; but I would see her in the river first!" "Shafto!" answered Pembroke, rising from his chair, "you cannot be speaking of Lady Tinemouth?" "Efaith I am," roared he; "and if she be such a scamp as to live without a carriage, I won't be her lackey for nothing. The matter of a mile is not to be tramped over by me with no pleasanter companion than an old painted woman of quality." "Surely you cannot mean," returned Pembroke, "that her ladyship was to walk from this place?" "Without a doubt," cried Shafto, bursting into a hoarse laugh; "you would be clever to see my Lady Stingy in any other carriage than her clogs." Irritated at the malice of Miss Dundas, and despising the vulgar illiberality of Shafto, without deigning a reply, Pembroke abruptly left the room, and hastening out of the house, ran, rather than walked, in hopes of overtaking the countess before she reached Harrowby. * * * * * * * CHAPTER XXXIX. THE VALE OF GRANTHAM.--BELVOIR.