"What am I to think of it?" she continued, smiling.
Berkeley laughed. I believe the fellow thought we were on the eve of a coolness.
"Remember my constitutional timidity," I urged.
"Timidity in a captain of lancers!" she exclaimed, laughing.
"I ventured to hope that the earl, at least, might have remembered me."
"You knew that I was at Chillingham Park, it appears?" she observed, with a pretty air of pique.
"Yes," said I, soothed by her glance of fond reproach; "Sir Nigel's letter told me so."
"Yet you never came even once to visit us, and I longed so much to see you, for I had a good deal to gossip about concerning our residence at Calderwood."
"But the earl omitted to leave a card, and your mamma never wrote; and then the rules of society!" I urged, still harping on my grievance.
"The rules of fiddlesticks! When did lovers ever heed them?" she asked, in a rapid whisper, while Berkeley addressed a few words to Jocelyn, and while her dark and sparkling eyes flashed a glance that made me forget all. "Well, here are the cards of papa and mamma, with an express invitation to Chillingham. You will dine with us this evening, won't you?"