“I am surprised to hear you say so, sir,” said she, in a low but very distinct voice; “I'd have imagined exactly the reverse.”
“Indeed! and may I make so bold as to ask why?”
“Simply, sir, that a gentleman so worldly-wise as yourself must always be supposed to calculate eventualities, and not incur, willingly at least, those he has no mind for. To be plain, sir, I 'm at a loss to understand how one not fond of peril should hazard the chance of being thrown out of a window,—don't start, I 'm only a woman, and cannot do it, nor, though I have rung for the servant, am I going to order him. For this time it shall be the door.” And, rising proudly, she walked toward the window; but ere she reached it, Spicer was gone.
“What's become of Spicer, Lizzy?” said Beecher, indolently, as his eyes traversed the room in search of him.
“He has taken his leave,” said she, in a voice as careless.
“He's tiresome, I think,” yawned he; “at least, I find him so.”
She made no reply, but sat down to compose her thoughts, somewhat ruffled by the late scene.
“Ain't it time to order the carriage? I told Georgy we'd come early,” added he, after a pause.
“I almost think I'll not go to-night,” said she, in a low voice.
“Not go! You don't mean that when my sister-in-law sends you a message to come and see her that you 'll refuse!” cried he, in a mixture of anger and astonishment.