“Our dear Miss Goose is perfectly charming,” said Cheriton, ogling Miss Perry, who by this time was trembling violently, and who sat in solemn scarlet consternation. “I am the proudest man in England.”
Caroline Crewkerne raised a finger.
“You have said enough, Cheriton,” said she. “I have my own opinion about the transaction, but I am inclined to think the creature might have done worse. You can go now, girl. Don’t mention this matter to your sister until you have my permission to do so.”
Miss Perry rose with her usual docility, but in her countenance was an ever-deepening scarlet. She moved slowly and heavily to the door of the boudoir without speaking a word, either to her aunt or to Lord Cheriton. Her hand was already upon the door when she turned round and faced the former. The blue eyes were full of dismay.
“If you please, Aunt Caroline,” she drawled in her ridiculous manner, “I don’t quite think I can marry Lord Cheriton.”
The old woman sat up in her chair in the manner of a Lord Chief Justice who has been confronted with a flagrant contempt of court.
“What do you mean, girl?” said she. “You don’t quite think you can marry Lord Cheriton. Explain your meaning.”
In the most favorable circumstances it was never very easy for Miss Perry to explain her meaning. In these she seemed to find considerable difficulty in doing so. Aunt Caroline gave her exactly thirty seconds, but Miss Perry required longer than that.
“Speak, girl,” said Aunt Caroline. “Are you dumb?”
Miss Perry was not dumb, but speech had never been so tardy.