"Lovely, indeed; you perceive you were over fastidious about giving away your flowers last night. Margaret did not prize them as highly as you expected."
"What proof have you?"
"She gave one to Hinchley."
"Oh yes, so she did; but he is a relative, remember. I need not offer you flowers in your own garden. I am certain it was the merest thoughtlessness which made Margaret bestow the roses on your guest last night."
"Who ever supposed it was any thing else?"
"Oh, I thought—that is, from the way you spoke—"
"What did you think?"
"That you were not pleased, if I must say it."
"I thought very little about the matter. I have no fancy for setting up as a pale-faced Othello."
"Oh dear, I should hope not; there would be nobody but me to play Emilie, and I should certainly run away, instead of standing by poor Desdemona. But I have to beg your pardon for my absurd mistake."