Girlie said that Lord Carabbas had.
“Well, if he’s the Lord Carabbas I remember”—George burst into a sudden laugh—“she’ll have to consider herself lucky if she doesn’t get a thoroughly sound whipping.”
Girlie shuddered and turned pale. This display of emotion was followed by silence. She herself had in prospect a penalty even more severe. A stricken conscience was causing her a great deal of pain. She felt that she deserved to suffer, and although it was good to hear this young soldier laugh heartily at the whole affair, there was something in his manner which implied that privately he thought so too. Poor Girlie had nothing of the picturesque aplomb of the culprit in chief. Her sense of guilt was there for all to see.
As for George Norris, this remarkable conversation with the real Miss Cass had suddenly made life very difficult. His dream was shattered. For all his merit as a soldier and the distinction he had won, he was an extremely modest fellow. It was not for men like himself to aspire to the Lady Elfreda Catkins of the world, however much he might adore them. Secretly he was full of resentment. Such mischievous impudence was entirely amazing. He had a strong desire to punish her, but with the perversity of a very human being, her attraction for him was never so great as now she stood revealed in all her wickedness.
Laugh he might, but the mirth of George Norris was of the kind that seeks to cover a deep wound. He was far more in love with this dainty rogue than was either wise or desirable. But he had now to meet the fact squarely that she was beyond his reach. True, he could claim to be her accepted suitor, but circumstances alter cases.
Yes, the case was altered. The only course now was to pocket his pride along with the rest of his fine feelings and return at once to The Laurels a sadly humiliated man. The little wretch! How dare she? Once more he posed that futile question as he gazed at the visibly wilting form of the real Miss Cass.
Even Lady Elfreda’s calm retirement to the drawing room was an added impertinence. It was her way, no doubt, of turning him down. She had fooled him, as she had fooled every one else, to the utmost limit and then cast him off like an old glove. Suddenly the decent George began “to see red.” He would give a good deal to get back a little of his own.
The longer George talked with Miss Cass the more fully did he seem to realize that only one line of conduct would now consort with his dignity. All the same, it was not going to be easy to follow. To say the least his position was very uncomfortable. The immediate problem, as it seemed to him now, was whether or no he should take a formal leave of Lady Elfreda. Merely to say good-by or not to say good-by—which course would best salve his damaged feelings?
He was still talking with Miss Cass and striving vainly to get a just perception of his own relation to such a set of exceptional circumstances when this problem automatically solved itself. Lady Elfreda came into the hall with an unknown gentleman.
George rose rather stiffly. “I think I’ll be going,” he said lamely.