“Take my advice and don’t go,” said Randolph actuated by jealousy.
“Why not?” Gilbert asked, quietly.
“They might look upon it as an intrusion.”
“I don’t think they will, as I was specially invited for this evening.”
“Out of politeness. Probably they have forgotten all about it.”
“It appears to me, Randolph, that you take a good deal of interest in this matter,” said Gilbert, amused.
“Oh, I care nothing about it; only as a friend I thought I would just mention that it might be thought rather presumptuous to take advantage of the accident that made you acquainted with Laura, to force yourself upon the family. If I were a poor boy like you, I would be careful to associate with my own class.”
Gilbert was provoked at Randolph’s insolence, as he rightly considered it, and answered coldly, “I will think of your advice, Mr. Briggs. I appreciate your motives in offering it.”
“What does he mean?” thought Randolph, following with his eyes his father’s ward. “I believe the fellow is angry with me. Poor and proud, I dare say. The Vivians will soon get tired of him.”
But though he tried to console himself with this reflection, it chafed Randolph not a little that Gilbert should be invited to a house which he could not hope to enter.