“Won’t you ask Grenfell to stop to dinner, Sir?” whispered Dolly, as Sir Within, after a few cold common-places, was about to pass on.
“Not to-day.”
“But I have half done it already, Sir. It was a great liberty on my part, but I blundered into it.”
“Will you give us your company at dinner to-morrow, Mr. Grenfell?” said Sir Within, without the hesitation of a moment.
Grenfell accepted, and, as Sir Within moved on, turning to Dolly, he said, “Did you remark his agitation—did you notice the embarrassment of his look and manner? Take my word for it, he has made her an offer.”
“Do you know it was passing through my mind the very same thought; for as they turned the angle of the copse yonder, I saw her snatch her hand from him.”
“Come back and dine with me. Common delicacy forbids you to spoil a tête-à-tête.”
“I can’t take the thing as coolly as you do, Grenfell. It’s no laughing matter to me.”
“Don’t laugh then, that’s all. There can be no reason, however, that you should not dine; so step in, and let’s be off.”
“I suspect you are right,” said Dolly, as they drove away. “The old fool has capped his folly. I whispered to him to ask you to dine.”