“You didn’t what! Good Lord, what did he want you to do!” he asked aghast.
“Well,” I said, and I looked down for a moment, I felt stupidly shy, “he wanted me to kiss him.”
Mr. Carruthers appeared almost relieved, it was strange!
“The old wretch! Nice company my aunt seems to have kept!” he exclaimed. “Could she not take better care of you than that—to let you be insulted by her guests.”
“I don’t think Lord Bentworth meant to insult me. He only said he had never seen such a red, curly mouth as mine, and as I was bound to go to the devil some day with that, and such hair, I might begin by kissing him—he explained it all.”
“And were you not very angry?” his voice wrathful.
“No—not very, I could not be, I was shaking so with laughter. If you could have seen the silly old thing, like a wizened monkey, with dyed hair and an eyeglass, it was too comic!—I only told you because you said the sentence ‘begin by you,’ and I wanted to know if it was the same thing.”
Mr. Carruthers’ eyes had such a strange expression, puzzle and amusement, and something else. He came over close to me.