“We must hope it,” Charlotte said heavily. “But if she has divulged your attachment to Edward Heron I fear that all is at an end. We who know and value dear Horry do not notice her blemishes, but what gentleman would engage to marry her in place of the Beauty of the Family?”
“I thought of that myself,” admitted Horatia. “He s-says he thinks he will grow used to my horrid eyebrows quite easily. And I will t-tell you something, Charlotte! He said it would be a p-pity if I became any taller.”
“How mortifying it is to reflect that Lord Rule may have been amusing himself at the expense of a Winwood!” said Charlotte.
But it seemed that Lord Rule had not been amusing himself. At three o’clock he walked up the steps of No. 20 South Street, and inquired for Lady Winwood.
In spite of her dramatic refusal to face the Earl, Lady Winwood had been induced to await him in the withdrawing-room, fortified by smelling-salts, and a new polonaise with tobine stripes which had arrived from her dressmaker’s just in time to avert a nervous collapse.
Her interview with his lordship lasted for half an hour, at the end of which time the footman was dispatched to inform Miss Horatia that her presence in the withdrawing-room was desired.
“Aha!” cried Horatia, shooting a wicked glance at Charlotte, and springing to her feet.
Elizabeth caught her hands. “Horry, it is not too late! If this arrangement is repugnant to you, for Heaven’s sake speak, and I will throw myself upon Lord Rule’s generosity!”
“Repugnant? S-stuff!” said Horatia, and danced out.
“Horry, Horry, at least let me straighten your sash!” shrieked Charlotte.