“Is Sir Cheltnam coming over this morning?” Isabel looked conscious, and glanced uneasily at the speaker.
“Said he should,” replied Alison.
“Then you’d better mind what you are about.”
“I always do,” said the young man sourly.
“Don’t speak to me in that tone, sir.”
“Now, Ralph, dear!—Alison!” cried Aunt Anne, turning from one to the other as she hastily interposed, to play the part of mediator. “You should not speak so abruptly to papa. But I’m sure he did not mean to be disrespectful, Ralph.”
“You mind your own business, madam; I can manage my children,” growled Mr Elthorne. “A puppy! Do you think I’m blind? Sir Cheltnam was cutting in before you all the time we were out last, and I could see that Dana was encouraging him out of pique. She as good as owned to it afterward to me.”
“I don’t suppose Burwood would like it if he knew you called him a puppy.”
“I did not, sir—I called you one.”
“Don’t—pray don’t be angry, Ralph,” said Aunt Anne softly.