“It is impossible, ma'am,” said Hamilton, bluntly; “I am answerable for him, and he must go back with me.”
“Can you be so inexorable?” said Mrs. Paget. “Will you come, too, and Mr. Francis Digby—I beg your pardon, Mr. Frank, I did not see you.”
“I beg yours, ma'am,” replied the affable Frank, with a most engaging bow; “for I was so taken up with the tempting display on the green this afternoon, that I only became aware this moment of my approximation to yourself.”
“The shops are very gay, certainly; but I should have thought that you young gentlemen would not have cared much for the display. Now, a tailor's shop would have been much more in your taste.”
“Indeed, ma'am, we came out with the express purpose of buying a silk for the Lady Louisa.”
“I wonder any lady should commission you to buy any thing for her.”
“Oh!” replied Frank, “I am renowned for my taste; and Hamilton is equally well qualified. Can you recommend us a good milliner, ma'am?”
“I am going to look at some bonnets,” said the lady. “But, Mr. Frank, I half suspect you are quizzing. What Lady Louisa are you speaking of?”
Frank had drawn up his face into a very grave and confidential twist, when Mrs. Paget's equerry, the young gentleman before mentioned, offered his arm, and, giving Frank a withering look, warned the lady of the time.
“You are right. It is getting late,” she said. “Good-bye, dear boy. Where are you now? Dr. Williams?”