“Well, I can’t but say you have chosen an unfortunate occasion to begin to be fastidious. I should think the Roxbury’s would be the very house you would like to go to.”
“Oh! one has to make a beginning. And I am tired of so much gaiety. It makes no difference about its being Mrs Roxbury.”
“Very well. Please yourself and you’ll please me,” said Harry, rising.
“Are you going out to-night, Harry?” said Graeme, trying not to look anxious.
“Yes; but pray don’t wait for me if I should not be in early,” said Harry, rather hastily.
There was nothing said for some time after Harry went out. Will went to his books, and Rose went to the piano. Graeme sewed busily, but she looked grave and anxious.
“What can make Harry so desirous that you should go to Mrs Roxbury’s?” said Arthur, at last. “Have you any particular reason for not wishing to go?”
“Do you think Harry really cared? No; I have no reason for not wishing to go there. But, Arthur, we have been going out too much lately. It is not good for Rosie, nor for me, either; and I refused this invitation chiefly because she was not invited, I might not have had the courage to refuse to go with her—as she would have been eager to go. But it is not good for her, all this party-going.”
“I dare say you are right. She is too young, and not by any means beyond being spoiled. She is a very pretty girl.”
“Pretty! Who can compare with her?” said Graeme. “But she must not be spoiled. She is best at home.”