"Oh, certainly," said I, trying so hard not to blush that I must have been purple. "I shall be delighted to go with Mr. and Mrs. Tyndal, in their lovely car, and it's very nice of them to ask me."
"You won't tell Sir Lionel I interfered, will you?" she begged. "I should be quite afraid of him if he were angry."
"You needn't worry. He shan't hear anything from me," said I.
"And you do think I was right to let you know?" she implored.
"Of course," I assured her. But I was feeling hurt all the way up to my topmost hair and down to my tipmost toe. Not that I mind going with the Tyndals, but that Sir Lionel should pick me out as the bit of superfluous ballast to cast to the winds! That was what made me feel cold and old, and alone in the world. I conscientiously told myself that I was the youngest of the party, and the right one to sacrifice; but nothing was much comfort until the thought jumped into my head that maybe Mrs. Senter had fibbed. I went to dinner buoyed up by that hope, but it died young; for the Tyndals did invite me, in Sir Lionel's hearing; and when I said that I should be charmed—he smiled calmly. So far from making objections, I thought he looked quite pleased.
Poor me! I fancied in the castle ruins that he actually liked my society. But I forgot that I'd invited him to go with me. I shan't forget again. And hang the glove!
Your poor, foolish, conceited, humiliated
Audrie.
XX