“Well!” remarked Lucius, as their uncle, with a sweet, mechanical smile, moved away, “you do know how to repulse the enemy, don’t you, Jack?”
“I didn’t mean to. Do you think he was offended?” Captain Staple broke off, his eyes widening in suspicion and dismay. “Good God, Lucius, just look at that!” he ejaculated.
Lucius, following the direction of his horrified gaze, saw that a footman had entered the Saloon, tenderly bearing a gilded harp. Lady Charlotte was being solicited to display her chief accomplishment, while her mama informed Mrs. Staple, with complacency, that her voice had been trained by the first masters. While Lord Saltash, eagerly, and the elder ladies of the party, politely, begged Charlotte to overcome her diffidence, Lord Melksham, the lady’s brother edged his way across the Saloon, and suggested to Lucius that they should (as he phrased it) nabble Ralph Tackenham, and withdraw, with Captain Staple, from the Saloon for a quiet rubber of whist.
“Ay, willingly!” responded Lucius. “But you’ll find his wife won’t permit him to go with us, if I know my cousin Albinia!”
“Nabble him when she ain’t looking,” said Lord Melksham hopefully. “Very partial to a quiet rubber, Ralph!”
“No, it can’t be done.” Captain Staple spoke with decision. “We must—shall!—stay, and listen to your sister’s performance.”
“But she’ll sing for ever!” objected his lordship. “Dismal stuff, too: assure you!”
But Captain Staple, with a shake of his head, moved away towards the group gathered about the fair harpist, and, obedient to an inviting smile, sat down on a small sofa beside his cousin Lettice.
“This will be dreadful” Miss Yatton whispered.
“Yes, very likely,” he agreed. He turned his head to look down at her, a smile in his eyes. “You’ve grown very fine since I saw you last, Letty. I suppose you’ve come out, have you?”