‘Well done, Phyl,’ said he; ‘no mistakes. You must have another dance. Whom shall we find for you?’
‘Oh! Rotherwood,’ said Emily, ‘you cannot think how you gratified us all with your speech.’
‘Ah! I always set my heart on saying something of the kind; but I wished I could have dared to add the bride’s health.’
‘The bride!’
‘Do not pretend to have no eyes,’ said Lord Rotherwood, with a significant glance, which directed Emily’s eyes to the terrace, where Mr. Mohun and Alethea were walking together in eager conversation.
Emily was ready to sink into the earth. Jane’s surmises, and the mysterious words of her father, left her no further doubt. At this moment some one asked her to dance, and scarcely knowing what she did or said, she walked to her place. Lord Rotherwood now found a partner for Phyllis, and a farmer’s daughter for himself.
This dance over, Phyllis’s partner did not well know how to dispose of her, and she grew rather frightened on finding that none of her sisters were in sight. At last she perceived Reginald standing on the bank, and made her escape to him.
‘Redgie, did you see who I have been dancing with? Cousin Rotherwood and Claude’s grand Oxford friend—Mr. Travers.’
‘It is all nonsense,’ said Reginald. ‘Come out of this mob of people.’
‘But where is Eleanor?’