It piqued him for ’twas true to his intention and not only so but she mimicked his manner excellent well. Perhaps the ice was a little more slippery than he had supposed. He fanned her diligently and changed the subject.
“I see Bolton is absent. No doubt more happily engaged with his pretty Polly. Is she still at Queensbury House?”
“By all means. There are alterations making at his house to please her taste before he makes her mistress of it.”
“And of him. ’Tis sure the oddest flight in all this world so to announce a thing that others keep decently private.”
“Its oddity is but its honesty so far as I can see,” says my Lady Fanny yawning delicately. “ ’Tis surely more convenient to know how our friends are situate and ’tis their advantage also that this sincerity permits us to keep a friend we value.”
“I yield to none in respect for Mrs. Fenton,” says my Lord angrily—“but at the same time would certainly forbid my wife her acquaintance now she has chose to ally herself openly with a man she can’t marry.”
She looked at him with eyes provocative.
“ ’Tis known your Lordship respected the lady.”
How much, how little was meant? Impossible to say, but it left him confused and angry, and he therefore struck wild, as the men in the ring have it.
“ ’Tis only a man can judge these points. The delicacy and weakness of the female mind are liable to gusts of sentiment, and your Ladyship’s ardent and generous nature——”