“Tell him I will come down,” said Marian.
“He heard me practising,” said Elinor, “that is why he would not come up. I am in disgrace, I suppose.”
“Nonsense, Nelly! But indeed I have no doubt he has come to complain of our conduct, since he insists on seeing me alone.”
Miss McQuinch looked sceptically at Marian’s guileless eyes, but resumed her technical studies without saying anything. Marian went to the dining-room, where she found Douglas standing near the window, tall and handsome, frock coated and groomed to a spotless glossiness that established a sort of relationship between him and the sideboard, the condition of which did credit to Marian’s influence over her housemaids. He looked intently at her as she bade him good morning.
“I am afraid I am rather early,” he said, half stiffly, half apologetically.
“Not at all,” said Marian.
“I have come to say something which I do not care to keep unsaid longer than I can help; so I thought it better to come when I could hope to find you alone. I hope I have not disturbed you. I have something rather important to say.”
“You are the same as one of ourselves, of course, Sholto. But I believe you delight in stiffness and ceremony. Will you not come upstairs?”
“I wish to speak to you privately. First, I have to apologize to you for what passed last night.”
“Pray dont, Sholto: it doesnt matter. I am afraid we were rude to you.”