“I’m glad of that. I suppose you’ve engaged her for the cotillion.”
At this he looked a little awkward. “No, I didn’t ask her for that. It’s a quadrille.”
“Ah, you’re not clever!” said Isabel almost angrily. “I told her to keep the cotillion in case you should ask for it.”
“Poor little maid, fancy that!” And Lord Warburton laughed frankly. “Of course I will if you like.”
“If I like? Oh, if you dance with her only because I like it—!”
“I’m afraid I bore her. She seems to have a lot of young fellows on her book.”
Isabel dropped her eyes, reflecting rapidly; Lord Warburton stood there looking at her and she felt his eyes on her face. She felt much inclined to ask him to remove them. She didn’t do so, however; she only said to him, after a minute, with her own raised: “Please let me understand.”
“Understand what?”
“You told me ten days ago that you’d like to marry my stepdaughter. You’ve not forgotten it!”
“Forgotten it? I wrote to Mr. Osmond about it this morning.”