The young man got hold of a purse that Fanny was netting, and did his best to entangle her silks; but his chief amusement was derived from attempts to quiz and plague his sister, who treated him much as a large and powerful dog does a little one,—enduring his gambols and annoying tricks with imperturbable patience for a while, and then suddenly putting forth a heavy paw and driving him off in an instant.
The following day passed very nearly in the same manner, excepting that the three girls separated immediately after breakfast, and did not meet again till luncheon-time. On the third, Fanny was the first to leave the breakfast-room; and Miss Cartwright and Rosalind being left together, the former said,
"I suppose we owe our repose from morning and evening ranting to you, Miss Torrington?"
"I certainly did not approve it, Miss Cartwright, and I took the liberty of telling your father so."
"You were undoubtedly very right and very wise, and I dare say you feel some inward satisfaction at your success. Mr. Cartwright has really shown great deference to your opinion by so immediately abandoning, at your request, so very favourite an occupation."
Rosalind was about to reply, when Miss Cartwright changed the conversation by abruptly saying,
"Will you take a stroll with me this morning, Miss Torrington?"
"Yes, certainly, if you wish it;—but I think we shall find it very warm."
"Oh! no. I will lead you a very nice shady walk to the prettiest and most sheltered little thicket in the world. Let us put on our bonnets directly;—shall we?"
"I will not delay you a moment," said Rosalind. "Shall I ask Fanny to go with us?"