The young man blushed to the roots of his hair, and blushed the more because he felt himself blushing.
‘I have heard of the young lady from your father, and nothing but good of her. I hope’—this with great severity—’that you are not ashamed of her, sir.’
‘No, madam.’
‘And I hope, sir’—this with an angry flash of her bright eyes—’that you are not ashamed of me.’
‘Madam!’
‘Then why did you not tell her that you were coming here?’
William Henry bit his lip, and was about to stammer something he knew not what, when fortunately there was a knock at the door.
‘Come in,’ said Mrs. Jordan.
The knocking was continued very loudly, but the permission was not repeated. Mrs. Jordan began to laugh, and at every recurrence of the summons laughed more and more. Then the door was opened a very little way. ‘Are you sure that I may come in, Dorothy? Are you sure I don’t intrude?’ inquired a musical voice in accents of pretended anxiety.
And then Mrs. Powell entered.