“I assure you, on the word of a gentleman, there is nothing in it now. It is all over, and I am heartily ashamed of it.”
A pause of a few seconds followed: it seemed as many minutes, and unbearable.
“You will come out with me?” said Forgue: she might be relenting, though she did not look like it!
“No,” she said; “I will not.”
“Well,” he returned, with simulated coolness, “this is rather cavalier treatment, I must say!—To throw a man over who has loved you so long—and for the sake of a lesson in Greek!”
“How long, pray, have you loved me?” said Arctura, growing angry. “I was willing to be friendly with you, so much so that I am sorry it is no longer possible!”
“You punish me pretty sharply, my lady, for a trifle of which I told you I was ashamed!” said Forgue, biting his lip. “It was the merest—”
“I do not wish to hear anything about it!” said Arctura sternly. Then, afraid she had been unkind, she added in altered tone: “You had better go and have a gallop. You may have Larkie if you like.”
He turned and left the room. She only meant to pique him, he said to himself. She had been cherishing her displeasure, and now that she had had her revenge would feel better and be sorry next! It was a very good morning’s work after all! It was absurd to think she preferred a Greek lesson from a clown to a ride with lord Forgue! Was not she too a Graeme!
Partly to make reconciliation the easier, partly because the horse was superior to his own, he would ride Larkie!