"Miss Julia, I wish to know if you like Lord Ennismore?"
Julia was taken by surprise, but she knew the characteristic bluntness of her companion's manners and speech, and Julia was rarely disconcerted: she possessed astonishing coolness of manners for a girl so young and so recently introduced: her reply was prompt, and quietly delivered.
"I know no right you possess to ask me such a question, Mr. Pynsent."
"I have a right, Miss Julia. If I like a girl, I am at liberty to ask if she is pre-engaged."
Julia laughed, and her laugh led Tom Pynsent to form a wrong conjecture upon the state of her feelings towards himself. He pressed her hand with considerable force, which Julia resented by withdrawing her arm.
"Pray don't be angry, my dear Miss Julia, at a good fox-hunting squeeze: I am not used to press ladies' hands, but the firmer I shake a friend's hand, the stronger is my pleasure at receiving him, and, if my grasp offends you, set it down to my affection."
Julia made no reply, but she retreated to her party; Lady Wetheral was impatient at her return, but Julia's indignation heeded not the hopes and fears which struggled in her mother's bosom; she was offended at Tom Pynsent's misconstruction of her laugh, and she stationed herself by the side of her sister. Tom Pynsent stood bewildered. The colour rose in Lady Wetheral's cheeks with alarm.
"My dear Julia, you have quitted Mr. Pynsent in a very extraordinary manner; I am really hurt; Mr. Pynsent! my dear Mr. Pynsent!"