"Ah!" said Lord Rochford, as he perceived her, "here is my little runaway friend, whom I have been looking for for some minutes. I am sure there must be some drawings of hers to be seen too."
Mrs Harrington turned round. "Get your drawings, Amy," she said in her coldest manner. Amy willingly obeyed, thinking anything preferable to standing still and doing nothing.
"Very pretty, very pretty, indeed!" exclaimed Lord Rochford, looking at them; "artist-like decidedly; very good that is." And he pointed to one which Amy knew was the worst of all, and which only struck his eye because the shadows were darker and the lights brighter than the rest.
"Has Amy been doing anything wrong?" said Mr Harrington, in a low voice to his wife. "She seems so frightened, yet she always strikes me as being very obedient; and those drawings of hers are admirable."
"She would do very well." answered Mrs Harrington, "if she would but be as attentive to her general conduct as she is to her accomplishments."
"Oh! careless, I suppose," said Mr Harrington. "It is not to be wondered at in such a young thing."
"I can never think any age an excuse for an impertinent liberty," was her reply.
"Amy impertinent! it is quite impossible. Come here, my dear, and tell me what you have been doing."
A cloud gathered on Mrs Harrington's brow; but Amy felt reassured by her uncle's kind manner, and answered as audibly as she could, "I rang the bell, uncle."
Mr Harrington laughed heartily, and Mrs Harrington looked still more annoyed.