“A mustard foot bath,” said Lord Bromford eagerly, “would be the very thing! I do not say that it will entirely arrest the chill; we must not raise our hopes too high! But if we can prevent its descending upon the lungs it will be a great thing! Thank you! I am very much obliged to you!”
“Good gracious, you absurd creature, I did not mean it!” Sophy cried, breaking into laughter.
“No!” said Miss Wraxton. “We may readily believe you have not a grain of womanly compassion, Miss Stanton-Lacy! Do not be uneasy, Lord Bromford! If any efforts of mine can save you from illness they shall not be spared!”
He pressed her hand in a speaking way and allowed her to press him gently down again into his chair.
“Meanwhile,” said Charlbury, “let us not forget that eggs the Marquesa must have! I had better try to find Talgarth and the hen house.”
Sophy, who was looking thoughtful, said slowly, “Yes. And I think — Charlbury, bring a candle into the breakfast parlor, and let us see if it is warm enough yet for Lord Bromford to sit in!”
He went with her into this apartment and had no sooner passed the doorway than she clasped his wrist, and said in an urgent undervoice, “Never mind the eggs! Go to the stables, and direct the Ombersley servants to pole up the horses again! You may change them at the inn in the village, or, if not there, at Epsom! Take Cecilia back to London! Only think how embarrassing for her to be obliged to meet Augustus now! She would dislike it excessively! Besides, it is quite ridiculous for so many people to be crowded into the house, and not at all what I bargained for!”
He grimaced, but said, “If I do it, will you go with us?”
“What, to sit bodkin between you! No, I thank you!”
“But I cannot leave you here!”