“What a quantity of liking I have to do, Gussie!” said the Captain. “Now, do you want the truth, or just a polite remark?”
“Oh! the truth—the truth, of course,” said Augusta, colouring, and then dropping her eyes under Uncle Peter’s steadfast gaze.
“Very well; I will give it to you, for I think I ought. I don’t care about Mr. Archer. He may be harmless, but that is the most that can be said of him. I don’t like Miss Flora, and I have a strong persuasion that Miss Constance is as like her as one pea resembles another.”
“And why don’t you like Flora? I am sure she tried to be nice to you.”
“She was extremely nice to me, but she is not the sort of girl I care about. Why need we talk about them any more? They are not our friends; they are only chance acquaintances.”
“But I want them to be our friends,” said Augusta; “it is so lonely and dull here, and their society would make such a great difference. At the worst you have to admit that they are harmless, Uncle Peter, and you cannot possibly object to our seeing a good deal of them.”
“I will write to your aunt to-night, Augusta, and ask her what are her views on the subject. Until I hear from her you must not have much to do with the Asprays. Of course, if you meet them by accident, as we did to-day, you will be polite and all that. But you are not to go to Fairlight; neither are they to come here until I hear from your aunt Jessie.”
“Oh dear!” said Augusta, “I did hope you would have liked them.”
“I am here to look after you all,” said the Captain, “and I want your companions to be worthy.”
“But how are they unworthy?”