He beat his hand against the arm of his chair, in a gesture of fretting impotence. “There is no one to look after you. I might as well be coffined!”
She managed to possess herself of his hand, and held it between both of hers. “Dearest, this is the merest irritation of the nerves! I am beset by protectors!”
He moved his head impatiently. “Servants, servants! That won’t fadge!”
She said coaxingly: “You must not be so cross, sir: indeed, there is no reason for you to be vexed! If I needed a protector—which I assure you I do not!—I should send a message to the toll-house, and desire my military giant to come to my aid! I daresay he would be very happy to hurl out of your house anyone you chose to indicate.”
He seemed to be diverted. He looked at her intently, and she was thankful to see that the angry spots of colour in his face were fading. “He would, would he?”
“Certainly! He is a very obliging person, and has expressed his willingness to serve me at any time!” she said, with a saucy look. “And if we should feel the need of a man capable of ridding our house of invaders—which, however, I do not at all anticipate—he would be the very one for the task! I am persuaded, my dear sir, that he would mill cannisters, darken daylights, and draw corks with all the gaiety in the world! Like Hotspur, you know, in that passage which always makes you laugh! Fie upon this quiet life! I want work! is what he would say!”
He smiled rather grimly. “Baggage!” he said. “Did I teach you that language?”
“Yes, to be sure you did, and a great deal more beside!” she said merrily. This drew a laugh from him, and an adroit question putting him in mind of a contest he had once witnessed she soon had the satisfaction of seeing him restored to tranquillity. He dropped into a doze presently, and the knowledge that his memory was erratic encouraged her to hope that when he awoke he would have forgotten the episode.
It seemed as though it had indeed faded from his mind. He did not speak of it again, and she had the comfort, when she went away to change her dress for an evening-gown, of seeing him settle down to his dinner in quiet good spirits.
The relief was short-lived. Her own dinner was partaken of in the company of her cousin and Mr. Coate. She sat at the head of the big table, entirely mistress of the situation, maintaining with quelling composure a conversation of such inane propriety as must, she hoped, lead her unwanted admirer to revise his opinion of her charms. He was apparently conscious of a little awkwardness in meeting her again, and seemed anxious to reinstate himself in her good graces; but before very long he was ogling her, and paying her broad compliments expressed in terms that could only disgust. She was almost glad when these were interrupted by an outcry from her cousin against the burgundy, which he declared, with an angry look at Huby, to have been watered; but civility obliged her to desire Huby to fetch up a fresh bottle, which was not at all what she had wished to do. Then she caught sight of the butler’s face, and her vexation yielded to an almost overmastering wish to burst out laughing. Every feeling had been offended: he was looking as outraged as though he had not, in fact, committed just that crime.