“So you have.”
“Then forget the evil others do you. My sister has also been always good to you.”
“Hardly,” replied Gilbert: with an expression no one could have understood for it embodied an accusation to Andrea, and an excuse for himself, bursting like pride while groaning like remorse.
“I understood,” said Philip: “she is a little high-handed at times, but she is good-hearted. Do you know where our good Andrea is at the present?”
“In her rooms, I suppose, sir,” gasped Gilbert, struck to the heart. “How am I to know—— ”
“Alone, as usual, and pining?”
“In all probability, alone, since Nicole has run away.”
“Nicole run away?”
“With her sweetheart—at least it is presumed so,” said Gilbert, seeing that he had gone too far.
“I do not understand you, Gilbert. One has to wrench every word out of you. Try to be a little more amiable. You have sense, and learning, so do not mar your acquirements with an affected roughness unbecoming to your station in life, and not likely to lift you to a higher.”