The door opened; Mr. Rivenhall came into the room, checked an instant on the threshold, when he saw Charlbury, and looked as though he would have retired again. Charlbury rose, however, and said, “I am glad you are at home, Charles, for I believe I can settle this business better with you than with anyone. You sister and I have agreed that we shall not suit.”
“I see,” said Mr. Rivenhall dryly. “There seems to be .nothing I can profitably say, except that I am sorry. I conclude you wish me to inform my father that there is to be no engagement?”
“Lord Charlbury has been everything that is most kind — most magnanimous!” whispered Cecilia.
“That I can believe,” responded Mr. Rivenhall.
“Nonsense!” Charlbury said, taking her hand. “I shall leave you now, but I hope I may still visit this house, on terms of friendship. You friendship I must always value, you know. Perhaps I may not dance at your wedding, but I shall wish you very happy, upon my honor!”
He pressed her hand, released it, and went out of the room, followed by Mr. Rivenhall, who escorted him downstairs to the hall, saying, “This is a damnable business, Everard. She is out of her senses! But as for marrying that ippy — no, by God!”
“Your cousin tells me it is all my fault for having willfully contracted mumps!” Charlbury said ruefully.
“Sophy!” Mr. Rivenhall ejaculated in anything but loving accents. “I do not think we have had a day’s peace since that girl entered the house!”
“I shouldn’t think you would,” said his lordship reflectively. “She is the oddest female I ever met, but I own I like her. Do you not?”
“No, I do not!” said Mr. Rivenhall.