Miss Milborne averted her face, replying stiffly: “What pity I may have felt for Lord Wrotham — and you are not to be a judge of that, if you please! — was plainly thrown away, since he contrived very speedily to console himself.”
“Fudge!” retorted Hero. “He wanted to kiss you, but since he could not, and I was there, he kissed me instead; but as for consoling himself — why, how can you be so stupid? Do you not know how it is with gentlemen? They kiss so easily, and it does not mean anything at all!”
“No, I am happy to say I do not,” replied Miss Milborne.
“Good gracious! I quite thought you knew much more than I did, for you have been out for so much longer!” exclaimed Hero ingenuously.
Miss Milborne flushed, and answered in a voice with an edge to it: “Do you mean to suggest, ma’am, that you consider me to be in danger of becoming an old maid?”
“No, I do not — though perhaps you will be one, if you do not learn to be a little kinder, Isabella!”
“Indeed! Perhaps you would advocate my bestowing my kisses with that generosity you yourself show?” said Miss Milborne, her colour now much heightened.
Perceiving that she had thoroughly enraged the Beauty, Hero made haste to say contritely: “No, indeed! I beg your pardon: I had no business to say that. It is only that I have a particular kindness for George, and I cannot bear to see him made unhappy.”
“I do not presume to advise you, ma’am, but I must hope that your particular kindness for Lord Wrotham may not lead you into a worse scrape than this unsavoury affair. Forgive me if I speak too boldly! You have done me the signal honour of confiding in me — with what object I am at a loss to understand — ”
“Oh, Isabella, pray do not talk in that missish way!” Hero besought her. “Can you not guess why I have come to beg you to help me?”