“Ah,” said Isabel, “he didn’t mention to me that he had heard from you.”
Lord Warburton stammered a little. “I—I didn’t send my letter.”
“Perhaps you forgot that.”
“No, I wasn’t satisfied with it. It’s an awkward sort of letter to write, you know. But I shall send it to-night.”
“At three o’clock in the morning?”
“I mean later, in the course of the day.”
“Very good. You still wish then to marry her?”
“Very much indeed.”
“Aren’t you afraid that you’ll bore her?” And as her companion stared at this enquiry Isabel added: “If she can’t dance with you for half an hour how will she be able to dance with you for life?”
“Ah,” said Lord Warburton readily, “I’ll let her dance with other people! About the cotillion, the fact is I thought that you—that you—”