“Yes, I did—that is to say, he said he should go to you, and I agreed, because I could not make him realize that I don’t wish to marry him. I thought I might depend on you!”
“Oh!” said Worth. “That is not precisely as I understood the matter. The Duke seemed to be in no doubt of the issue once my consent was obtained.”
“If you thought that I would ever marry a man old enough to be my father you did me a shocking injustice!” said Miss Taverner hotly. “And if you had the amazing impertinence to suppose that his rank must make him acceptable to me you insult me beyond all bearing!”
“Softly, my child: I thought neither of these things,” said his lordship, slightly amused. “My experience of you led me instead to suppose that you had sent your suitor to me in a spirit of pure mischief. Was that an injustice too?”
Miss Taverner was a little mollified, but said stiffly: “Yes, it was, sir. The Duke of Clarence would not believe I meant what I said, and the best I could think of was for you to help me. I made sure you would refuse your consent!”
“I did,” said the Earl, taking snuff.
“Then why,” demanded Miss Taverner, relieved, “did you say you wished me joy?”
“Merely to alarm you, Clorinda, and to teach you not to play tricks on me.”
“It was no trick, and you are abominable!”
“I humbly beg your forgiveness.”