"I should be ashamed of him if I didn't think he could resist temptation," laughed his aunt.
"You do not mean that you refuse me?" She turned her sweet, smiling face to him.
"I am sorry I am engaged," he replied, quickly, without looking at her. "You have so many men—so many more than ladies—you can't want me. My aunt and my sister must answer for themselves."
She was so little used to contradiction that she seemed literally struck dumb. Who was this man, whom she regarded as her slave, that he dared resist her sovereign will and pleasure?
"Grace and I will look in to wish you good-by, after dinner. But it is not 'good-by' for long, I believe?" said Mrs. Frampton, in high good-humor at Mordaunt's firmness. He was really behaving better than she expected.
"Perhaps—I don't know," responded Miss Planter, as she twirled the tassel that hung from her waist round her finger, and then untwirled it. "Some of my friends are going to Santa Barbara. Perhaps mamma may go there instead."
"Your father spoke very distinctly this morning of going to Monterey," said Mordaunt, flushing suddenly.
"Oh, yes; but papa will always do as mamma and I ask him. That is the advantage of having an American husband. Englishmen are not like that—they can refuse anything!"
She stung him with one sharp look from her beautiful eyes, and, with a little au revoir to the ladies, swept from the room.
"If they go to Santa Barbara, I shall follow them," said Mordaunt, recklessly, as soon as the door was closed.