She then turned back to examine him.
Enchanted to again meet her eyes, the youth bowed with intense respect, and advanced a few paces, as if with intention to speak to her, though immediately and with still more precipitance he retreated, from being ready with nothing to say.
Lionel, going up to him, and pulling him by the arm, cried: 'Why, man! what's come to you? These are worse heroics than I have seen you in yet.'
The bright eyes of Indiana being still fixed upon him, he disdained all notice of Lionel, beyond a silent repulse.
Indiana, having now satisfied her curiosity, restored her attention to the beaux that surrounded her. The Oxonian, half sighing, unfolded his clasped hands, one of which he reposed upon the shoulder of Lionel.
'Come, prithee, be a little less in alt,' cried Lionel, 'and answer a man when he speaks to you. Where did you leave Smythson?'
'Who is that divinity; can you tell me?' said the Oxonian in a low and respectful tone of inquiry.
'What divinity?'
'What divinity? insensible Tyrold! tasteless! adamantine! Look, look yonder, and ask me again if you can!'
'O what; my cousin Indiana?'