Frank now seemed uneasy, looked at his watch, observed it was "rather too late to call," and disappeared.
Uncle Joseph gasped. Did Miss Ross leave no message? For him, Mr. Groves? Was the man quite sure?
The man was quite sure, so far as he knew; should he ask the maid?
"D——n the maid!" I am sorry to say, was Uncle Joseph's reply, and without further leave-taking he bustled off in a towering passion, while Sir Henry and the footman, on the door-step, contemplated each other in some amusement and no little surprise.
The baronet broke into a laugh.
"You soon clear off your visitors, James. Is Mrs. Lascelles at home to me!"
"Certainly, sir! Yes, sir! In the boodore, sir!" answered James. "I'd just taken in tea when you rang."
So Sir Henry found himself tête-à-tête with the lady for whom, during the foregoing winter, he had half-felt and half-professed a spurious kind of attachment, and was conscious of an uncomfortable wish that he, too, had made his escape with the others, or that it had never entered his head to come to tea at all.
She was always gracious, just as she was always well-dressed. There is a dignity and a decency of beauty, which nothing will induce a beautiful woman to forego. It was a very cool and steady hand that Mrs. Lascelles tendered to her vacillating admirer, while she bade him sit down, and poured him out a cup of tea.
"I was on the point of writing to you," said she; "but you have saved me the trouble. I wanted to see you, Sir Henry, very much. I have something particular to say."