“Quite soon now, we hope. But with Mama so poorly I don’t think of it. Are you—are you very happy, dearest?”
Horatia nodded vigorously. “Oh, yes! Only that I can’t help f-feeling sometimes that I stole M-Marcus from you, Lizzie. But you do still prefer Edward, don’t you?”
“Always,” Elizabeth answered, laughing. “Is it very bad taste in me?”
“Well, I m-must say I can’t understand it,” said Horatia candidly. “But perhaps it is b-because you aren’t horribly worldly, like m-me. L-Lizzie, even if it is odious of m-me, I must say it is delightful to have just what one wants, and to d-do as one pleases.”
“Yes,” agreed Miss Winwood rather doubtfully, “I suppose it is.” She stole a glance at Horatia’s profile. “Lord Rule—could not accompany you on this visit?”
“As a m-matter of fact,” admitted Horatia, “he would have come, only I w-wanted to have you all to m-myself, so he gave up the notion.”
“I see,” said Elizabeth. “Don’t you think, love, that you should have come together, perhaps?”
“Oh, no,” Horatia assured her. “He quite understood, you know. I find too that fashionable p-people hardly ever do things together.”
“Horry dear,” said Miss Winwood with difficulty, “I do not want to sound like Charlotte, but I have heard that when—when their wives are so very fashionable—gentlemen do sometimes look elsewhere for entertainment.”
“I know,” said Horatia sapiently. “But you see, I p-promised I wouldn’t interfere with Rule.”