‘Then, Charlotte, as soon as you come in, hold up your hands, and exclaim, “What a guy!” There will be a compliment!’
‘No, Charlie; I promised mamma and Laura that you should get me into no more scrapes.’
‘Did you? The next promise you make had better depend upon yourself alone.’
‘But Amy said I must be quiet, because poor Sir Guy will be too sorrowful to like a racket; and when Amy tells me to be quiet, I know that I must, indeed.’
‘Most true,’ said Charles, laughing.
‘Do you think you shall like Sir Guy?’
‘I shall be able to determine,’ said Charles, sententiously, ‘when I have seen whether he brushes his hair to the right or left.’
‘Philip brushes his to the left.’
‘Then undoubtedly Sir Guy will brush his to the right.’
‘Is there not some horrid story about those Morvilles of Redclyffe?’ asked Charlotte. ‘I asked Laura, and she told me not to be curious, so I knew there was something in it; and then I asked Amy, and she said it would be no pleasure to me to know.’