"I never thought I was anything like an ugly fellow, Sir Harry," answered Meyler, speaking slowly.
On another opera night, as I was waiting at the top of the stairs with my sister Fanny for Meyler to take me home, Sir Harry came flying up to me in affected surprise,—"Why I thought it was your ghost!"
"How so?"
"I really imagined that it was you, who went out just now with Meyler!"
"Is Meyler really gone without me, then?"
"I have this instant seen him hand a lady into his carriage, and step in after her," answered the Baronet.
I felt myself reddening with indignation. It rained fast. Fanny and Julia were going in Mr. Napier's chariot quite a different road, and there was no room to spare for me, and not a soul left in the room except Lady Heathcote and her party, and Amy, who was watching men at a distance, with a host of beaux.
"My carriage is much at your service," said Sir Harry Mildmay, "and I shall be very happy to put you down at your own door."
"What, has Meyler gone off and left you here by yourself," said Amy, joining us, and speaking loud enough for Lady Heathcote to hear. Her ladyship looked as if she was much amused with the whole occurrence. I have a terribly proud spirit of my own, and greatly as I disliked the idea of seeming to encourage Sir Harry Mildmay, the temptation was now irresistible; so putting my arm under his and skipping gaily past Doctor Bankhead's dear friend, Lady Heathcote, I said I would forgive Meyler for cutting me as often as he was disposed to send me such a very amiable substitute. It was a dark night, and Mildmay's coachman drove like mad. Judge my surprise, on finding myself set down at Sir Harry's house in Brook Street, when I thought I was in the New Road. Sir Harry took hold of my hand as I stood on his steps, and laughingly tried to pull me into his house.