"You never were attached to Lord Raymond then?" he said.
"Never, as it happened," returned Harriet, with great indifference.
"Then why give me to understand—" Mr. Gage began.
"Stop there!" said Harriet, "don't ring the changes, my good friend, upon your misapprehension. I was not likely to tell you, of all people, my family secrets. Lord Raymond was always on an intimate footing with me. I could not remove the confusion in his affairs, nor help his mother dying at the wrong time: and these were the only things that prevented his marriage with Lucy from taking place earlier."
"You knew when I was at Chirke Weston," said Mr. Gage, "that my feelings towards you had undergone no change, and yet you not only suffered me to be in an error, but you encouraged my belief that you were engaged to that man to the utmost of your power."
"Well," said Harriet, "I am not going to tell any lies. Perhaps, I did. I was rather amused to see you making a blunder."
"You confess it," said Mr. Gage; "and now you are acting the same part with that wretched idiot, Humphries; though you still see that I cannot forget you, as I wish to Heaven I could."
"Poor dear Mr. Humphries!" said Harriet, leaning against the window, and, throwing the pieces of meat slowly to her dog, "he is to be called an idiot, because I am commonly civil to my uncle's guests."
"I suppose I am not to be considered as your uncle's guest?" said Mr. Gage.