"I didn't see. I didn't look," said Agatha. "It was terrible. I hope he wasn't hurt. You saw Lord Ambert going away, Dicky. How did he look?"
Mr. Browne considered, and then gave words to memory. "Like a crushed strawberry," said he, with all the usual grace that belonged to him.
A little silence followed this, and then Elfrida gave way to unmistakable mirth.
Presently she felt a little ashamed, and tried to explain herself away.
"Ah, but you should have seen how Mr. Blount looked!" cried she. This was, however, the openest subterfuge. She certainly had not been thinking of Blount's appearance when she laughed.
She drew Agatha away and laid her hands upon her arms.
"It is all over. It is done. You were right, Agatha. I shall never marry him."
"You mean—Lord Ambert?"
"I mean that beast!" said Elfrida, who seldom studied the delicacies of the language—"that hateful coward!"
"You will break off with him? Elfrida, it will take courage."