“No — oh, no!” Ulverston responded. “Don’t quite know how long I shall be fixed at Stanyon!”
“Shall you be in town when we give our ball?” asked Marianne.
“Yes,” replied his lordship promptly. “Will Lady Bolderwood send me a card?”
“Oh, yes! I hope you will be able to come to it!”
“Not a doubt of it, Miss Bolderwood: I shall most certainly come to it! When do you remove to London?”
“I believe, in a fortnight’s time — if Papa’s illness has not overset our plans.”
“A fortnight? Just when I shall be going to London myself!” he said.
“But you said you did not know when you should be going!” she pointed out, laughing a little.
“Quite true! I didn’t! You had not told me then how long you would be remaining in Lincolnshire.”
She looked charmingly confused, her art of coquetry deserting her, and could only blush more than ever, and pretend to be busy with the retying of one of the knots of ribbon which adorned her dress.