“Ay, a broadside.”
“Well, that is something,” said Bella, as she closed the door softly.
“No, no; it amounts to just nothing,” said Sir Charles; “for you never will do anything wrong or silly. I'll accommodate you. I have thought of a way. I shall give you some blank cards; you shall write on them, 'I think I should like to do so and so.' You shall be careless, and leave them about; I'll find them, and bluster, and say, 'I command you to do so and so, Bella Bassett'—the very thing on the card, you know.”
Bella colored to the brow with pleasure and modesty. After a pause she said: “How sweet! The worst of it is, I should get my own way. Now what I want is to submit my will to yours. A gentle tyrant—that is what you must be to Bella Bassett. Oh, you sweet, sweet, for calling me that!”
These projects were interrupted by a servant announcing luncheon. This made Sir Charles look hastily at his watch, and he found it was past two o'clock.
“How time flies in this house!” said he. “I must go, dearest; I am behind my appointment already. What do you do this afternoon?”
“Whatever you please, my own.”
“I could get away by four.”
“Then I will stay at home for you.”
He left her reluctantly, and she followed him to the head of the stairs, and hung over the balusters as if she would like to fly after him.