Lord Uxmoor was dazzled, transfixed, at the vision, and bowed very low when Vizard introduced him in an off-hand way, saying, “My sister, Miss Vizard; but I dare say you have met her at the county balls.”
“I have never been so fortunate,” said Uxmoor, humbly.
“I have,” said Zoe; “that is, I saw you waltzing with Lady Betty Gore at the race ball two years ago.”
“What!” said Vizard, alarmed. “Uxmoor, were you waltzing with Lady Betty Gore?”
“You have it on too high an authority for me to contradict.”
Finding Zoe was to be trusted as a county chronicle, Vizard turned sharply to her, and said, “And was he flirting with her?”
Zoe colored a little, and said, “Now, Harrington, how can I tell?”
“You little hypocrite,” said Vizard, “who can tell better?”
At this retort Zoe blushed high, and the water came into her eyes.
Nobody minded that but Uxmoor, and Vizard went on to explain, “That Lady Betty Gore is as heartless a coquette as any in the county; and don't you flirt with her, or you will get entangled.”