“It was all my doing,” returned Annie. “I was not blind when we were in Scotland; and after you left us I made a point of cultivating the young lady, and fortunately for you, approving of her, I asked papa to let me invite her to Broadhurst.”
“Of course, with that discretion which is such a striking characteristic of your amiable sex, imparting to him all your views in doing so.”
“Now, Charley, you are very cross and unkind and disagreeable. I asked her merely because I thought it would give you pleasure; and though I like sometimes to tease you a little myself, of course I never dreamed of saying anything to my father which could annoy you.”
“Well, you are a dear, good little cousin, I know, so I won’t scold you,” was the reply, and they entered the tent together.
A few minutes afterwards Lewis was engaged in pointing out to Walter one of the skaters who was performing some very intricate figure with great success, when he heard a female voice exclaim, “Surely I am not mistaken—that is Mr. Arundel!” and turning at the sound, beheld, leaning on the arm of Charles Leicester, Miss Laura Peyton, the young lady who had penetrated his disguise at Lady Lombard’s party. Not to return her bow was impossible; but at the recollection of all that had passed on that evening his cheek flushed and his features assumed a cold, haughty expression, the result of mingled pride and vexation, under which he strove to conceal his annoyance. Annie, who was not aware that Lewis and her friend had ever met before, glanced from one to the other with looks of the greatest astonishment, which was by no means diminished when Miss Peyton continued, “Now let me inquire after the Prince of Persia. I hope you left his Highness in the enjoyment of good health.”
While Lewis was striving to frame a suitable reply, Annie, who could restrain herself no longer, exclaimed, in a tone of the utmost bewilderment, “The Prince of Persia! My dear Laura, are you out of your senses?”
The only reply her friend was able for some minutes to return was rendered inaudible by a fit of laughing, in which Leicester, and at last even Lewis himself, could not resist joining.
“Now I call that abominable,” continued Annie; “you are all enjoying some excellent joke, and I am left to pine in ignorance. Laura, what are you laughing at?”
“Ask Mr. Leicester,” returned Miss Peyton, breathless with laughter.
“Charles, what is it all about?”