Harry rose impatiently.
“We should have Mrs Gridley here. I never think a free discussion of our neighbours and their affairs can be conducted on proper principles without her valuable assistance. Your cousin would be charmed to know that you made her the subject of conversation among your acquaintance, I have no doubt, Charlie.”
“But she is not his cousin,” said Fanny. “And Harry, dear, you are unkind to speak of us as mere acquaintances of Mr Millar. Of course, he would not speak of her everywhere; and you must permit me to say you are a little unreasonable, not to say cross.” And Rose smiled very sweetly on him as she spoke.
Harry did look cross, and Charlie looked astonished. Graeme did not understand it.
“Was that young Roxbury I saw you driving with the other day?” asked Arthur. “He is going into business, I hear.”
“It was he,” said Charlie. “As to his going into business, I cannot say. He is quite young yet. He is not of age. Are you going, Harry? It is not very late yet.”
They did not go immediately, but they did not have much pleasure after that. He was very lively and amusing, and tried to propitiate Harry, Graeme thought, but she was not quite sure; there were a good many allusions to events and places and persons that she did not understand, and nothing could be plainer than that she did not succeed. Then they had some music. Rose sat at the piano till they went away, playing pieces long, loud, and intricate; and, after they went away, she sat down again, and played on still.
“What put Harry out of sorts to-night?” asked Arthur.
“Was he out of sorts?” asked Graeme, a little anxiously.
Rose laughed.