“Of c-course,” said Horatia, seating herself on the arm of a chair and once more tossing her ill-used hat aside. “I did not m-mean to be disobliging, but when you talk me over with your sister it makes me f-furious.”
“Are you not rather leaping to conclusions?” suggested Rule.
“Well, anyway, she said she had been t-telling you that you ought to beat me,” said Horatia, kicking her heel against the chair-leg.
“She is full of good advice,” agreed his lordship. “But I haven’t beaten you yet, Horry, in spite of it.”
Slightly mollified, the bride remarked: “No, b-but I think when she says things about m-me you might defend m-me, sir.”
“You see, Horry,” said his lordship with a certain deliberation, “you make that rather difficult.”
There was an uncomfortable pause. Horatia flushed to the roots of her hair, and said, stammering painfully: “I’m s-sorry. I d-don’t m-mean to behave outrageously. W-what have I done n-now?”
“Oh, nothing really very desperate, my dear,” Rule said non-committally. “But do you think you could refrain from introducing a wild animal into Polite Circles?”
A giggle, hastily choked, escaped her. “I was afraid you’d hear about that,” she confessed. “B-but it was quite an accident, I assure you, and—and very diverting.”
“I haven’t the least doubt of that,” Rule replied.