Sophy laid the paper down. “Good gracious, how is this?”
“I find my spirits utterly overborne!” declared Cecilia, sinking into a chair. “No one — no one! — could have behaved with more exquisite sensibility! I wish you had not persuaded me to see him! Nothing could have been more painful!”
“Oh, do not give him a thought!” said Sophy bracingly. “Let us rather think what is to be done about fixing Augustus in some genteel occupation!”
“How can you be so heartless?” demanded Cecilia. “When he was so kind, and I could not but see how much I had grieved him!”
“I daresay he will recover speedily enough,” Sophy replied, in a careless way. “Ten to one he will fall in love with another female before the month is out!”
Cecilia did not look as though she found this prophecy consoling, but after a moment she said, “I am sure I wish he may, for to be ruining a man’s life is no very pleasant thing, I can tell you!”
“Do you think it will rain? Dare I wear my new straw hat? I have a mind to flirt with Charlbury myself. I liked him.”
“I wish you may succeed,” said Cecilia, a trifle stiffly. “I do not think him a man at all given to flirting, however. The tone of his mind is too nice for such a pastime as that!”
Sophy laughed. “We’ll see! Do tell me which hat I should wear! The straw is so ravishing, but if it were to come on to mizzle — ”
“I don’t care which hat you wear!” snapped Cecilia.