“It's very likely she did,” interposed Sir Reginald, opening his eyes—every one thought he was dozing—“nothing more foolish, and therefore, nothing more likely. Besides, if she didn't, she probably did worse. Better to go straight to the——”
“Oh, dear Reginald!” exclaimed Lady May.
“Than by a tedious circumbendibus. I suppose her parents highly disapproved of the goblin; wasn't that alone an excellent reason for going away with him?”
And Sir Reginald closed his eyes again.
“Perhaps,” said Miss Maubray aside to Vivian Darnley, “that romantic young lady may have had a cross papa, and thought that she could not change very much for the worse.”
“Shall I tell that to Sir Reginald?—it would amuse him,” inquired Darnley.
“Not as my remark; but I make you a present of it.”
“Thanks; but that, even with your permission, would be a plagiarism, and robbing you of his applause.”
Vivian Darnley was very inattentive to his own nonsense. He was talking very much at random, for his mind, and occasionally his eyes, were otherwise occupied.
Alice Arden was sitting near the piano, and talking to Mr. Longcluse.