‘I should be inclined to believe his own account of himself,’ said she.
‘I tell you, ‘tis utterly against reason,’ said Mr. Edmonstone, angrily. ‘If he was a fellow like Philip, or James Ross, I could believe it; but he—he make a book-worm! He hates it, like poison, at the bottom of his heart, I’ll answer for it; and the worst of it is, the fellow putting forward such a fair reason one can’t—being his guardian, and all—say what one thinks of it oneself. Eh, mamma?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Mrs. Edmonstone, smiling.
‘Well, you take him in hand, mamma. I dare say he will tell you the rights of it, and if it is only that Gordon, explain it rightly to him, show him ‘tis only the man’s way; tell him he treats me so for ever, and would the Lord-Lieutenant if he was in it.’
‘For a’ that and a’ that,’ said Charles, as Amy led him into the drawing-room.
‘You are sure the reading is the only reason?’ said Amy.’
‘He’s quite absurd enough for it,’ said Charles; but ‘absurd’ was pronounced in a way that made its meaning far from annoying even to Guy’s little champion.
Guy came in the next moment, and running lightly up-stairs after Mrs. Edmonstone, found her opening the dressing-room door, and asked if he might come in.
‘By all means,’ she said; ‘I am quite ready for one of our twilight talks.’
‘I am afraid I have vexed Mr. Edmonstone,’ began Guy; ‘and I am very sorry.’