Upon this, the Countess accepted Melville’s arm, and had some thoughts of punishing the woman.
They were seen parading the lawn. Mr. George Uplift chuckled singularly.
“Just the old style,” he remarked, but corrected the inadvertence with a “hem!” committing himself more shamefully the instant after. “I’ll wager she has the old Dip. down on his knee before she cuts.”
“Bet can’t be taken,” observed Sir John Loring. “It requires a spy.”
Harry, however, had heard the remark, and because he wished to speak to her, let us hope, and reproach her for certain things when she chose to be disengaged, he likewise sallied out, being forlorn as a youth whose sweet vanity is much hurt.
The Duke had paired off with Mrs. Strike. The lawn was fair in sunlight where they walked. The air was rich with harvest smells, and the scent of autumnal roses. Caroline was by nature luxurious and soft. The thought of that drilled figure to which she was returning in bondage, may have thrown into bright relief the polished and gracious nobleman who walked by her side, shadowing forth the chances of a splendid freedom. Two lovely tears fell from her eyes. The Duke watched them quietly.
“Do you know, they make me jealous?” he said.
Caroline answered him with a faint smile.
“Reassure me, my dear lady; you are not going with your brother this morning?”
“Your Grace, I have no choice!”