Carlyon returned to the library himself, saying as he entered the room, “My brother is this instant come in and will be with us in a minute or two, Mrs. Cheviot.”
She made as if she would have risen from her chair. “You wish to be private with him, I know. I will leave you, sir.”
“Indeed, I beg you will not! I may depend upon your discretion. You already know so much that you must know the whole.”
“You are very good, sir, but Mr. John Carlyon may not like to discuss these matters in my presence, and I would not—”
“Mr. John Carlyon will do as he is bid,” he replied.
She smiled. “Ah, I knew you for a despot upon my first encounter with you, my lord!”
“Very rarely, I assure you! It seems a long time since that day.”
“Yes, I have often feared that I was but tedious company,” remarked the widow affably. “You must blame my circumstances, sir, which have made me lose the art of making myself agreeable in society.”
“I observe that they have not made you lose your quickness of tongue, ma’am! You have wished to see me put out of countenance, and now cannot doubt that you have had your wish gratified!”
She laughed but shook her head. John came into the room at that moment, rubbing his chilled hands together. He stopped short when he perceived Elinor, and said in a voice of surprise, “Mrs. Cheviot! I had no notion—Ned, you should have warned me you had a guest with you! I would not have come in in all my dirt! Pray excuse me, ma’am! I have been out shooting and have had no time to change my jacket!”