Dinner-time came, and Emily sat at the drawing-room window with Claude and Lilias, lamenting her cousin’s bad habits. ‘Nothing will ever make him punctual,’ said she.
‘I am in duty bound to let you say nothing against him,’ said Claude.
‘It is very good-natured in him to wait for you,’ said Lily, ‘but it would be horribly selfish to leave you behind.’
‘Delay is his great horror,’ said Claude, ‘and the wonder of his character is, that he is not selfish. No one had ever better training for it.’
‘He does like his own way very much,’ said Lilias.
‘Who does not?’ said Claude.
‘Nothing shows his sense so much,’ said Emily, ‘as his great attachment to papa—the only person who ever controlled him.’
‘And to Claude—his opposite in everything,’ said Lilias.
‘I think he will tire you to death in Germany,’ said Emily.
‘Never fear,’ said Claude, ‘my vis inertiæ is enough to counterbalance any amount of restlessness.’