“Allow me to go down and ask her if she will do us the honor,” said Anstruthers. “Colonel Esmond and his daughter have promised to take luncheon, and I was in hopes that I could persuade your party to join us. It will be brought on almost immediately.”
“That is as novel as the rest,” said Mrs. Despard, by no means displeased. “However, if you can induce Lisbeth to come up, I am not sure that I shall refuse.”
“I wonder what he will say to her,” was her mental comment, when he left the room, and she looked out of her window with no small degree of interest.
She saw him standing upon the pavement, by the carriage, a moment or so later, his face slightly upturned, as he spoke to the girl, the spring wind playing softly with his loose, fair hair, and the spring sunshine brightening it; and something in his manner, she scarcely knew what, brought back to her a sudden memory of the frank, boyish young fellow he had been when Lisbeth first amused herself, with her cool contempt for his youth and impetuousness, at Pen’yllan. And just as suddenly it occurred to her, what a wide difference she found in him now. How ready he was to say caustic things, to take worldly views, and indulge in worldly sneers; and she recollected the stories she had drifted upon; stories which proved him a life’s journey from the boy whose record had been pure, whose heart had been fresh, whose greatest transgression might have been easily forgiven; and remembering all this, she felt a sharp anger against Lisbeth, an anger sharper than she had ever felt toward her in the whole of her experience.
When Anstruthers appeared upon the pavement, and advanced toward the carriage side, Lisbeth turned toward him with a feeling of no slight displeasure. Since she had made an effort to keep out of his way, must he follow her up?
“Is not Mrs. Despard coming?” she asked, somewhat abruptly.
“Mrs. Despard was so kind as to say, that if I could induce you to leave the carriage and join our little party, she would not refuse to take luncheon with us.” And then he stood and waited for her reply.
“I was not aware that she thought of staying,” said Lisbeth. “If I had known——”
Then she checked herself. “If I refuse,” she said, in secret, “he will think I am afraid of him.” And she regarded him keenly. But he was quite immovable, and merely appeared politely interested.
“If you will be so good as to let me help you down,” he said, opening the low door himself, and extending his hand courteously, “we shall be delighted to have such an addition to our number,” he added.