Never did man look less like an offended lover, or like a morose self-tormentor.
‘There are others later,’ said Mrs. Edmonstone, looking at Lady Eveleen’s empty chair.
‘So you think that is all you have to ask pardon for,’ said Mr. Edmonstone. ‘I advise you to study your apologies, for you are in pretty tolerable disgrace.’
‘Indeed, I am very sorry,’ said Guy, with such a change of countenance that Mr. Edmonstone’s good nature could not bear to see it.
‘Oh, ‘tis no concern of mine! It would be going rather the wrong way, indeed, for you to be begging my pardon for all the care you’ve been taking of Charlie; but you had better consider what you have to say for yourself before you show your face at Broadstone.’
‘No?’ said Guy, puzzled for a moment, but quickly looking relieved, and laughing, ‘What! Broadstone in despair for want of me?’
‘And we perfectly exhausted with answering questions as to what was become of Sir Guy.’
‘Dreadful,’ said Guy, now laughing heartily, in the persuasion that it was all a joke.
‘O, Lady Eveleen, good morning; you are come in good time to give me the story of the ball, for no one else tells me one word about it.’
‘Because you don’t deserve it,’ said she. ‘I hope you have repented by this time.’