“Now,” said Lady Catherine, in her usual way, which with all its softness had authority in it, “let us settle things for the morning. We visit Marston Court; Estelle has never been thoroughly over the house; of course you go, George.”
He did not seem embarrassed, but thoughtful, and, after a moment’s consideration, replied, “Yes, I will escort you on horseback. Who are going?”
The guests were enumerated. Most of the names I had never heard before. My own was not in the list.
“And Zana!” said Irving, with a slight rise of color when his mother paused.
“Oh, Zana, she will find amusement for herself. She has never seen the house yet—besides, as your tutor remains behind, he can take the opportunity to give her a lesson or two.”
Lady Catherine looked furtively at her son as she made the proposition. His brow clouded, and his lips were set together very resolutely; but his voice was low and respectful as he replied,
“Not so, madam! Unless in your presence, that gentleman is not a proper person to teach a girl like Zana!”
“Hear me, you are really making the thing a burden. How can you expect all these formalities, George, in a case like this—and me with nerves worn down to a thread?”
“I will teach her myself,” was the firm reply, though rays of crimson shot across his forehead as he spoke.
“You, George?—preposterous!”