There could be no mistaking the character of speech like this, rude even to impertinence. It brought the red into the young girl’s cheeks, and she would have angrily resented it, but was restrained by the caution late received from her sister. Still, to let it pass unnoticed was out of the question, and would likely lead to her being yet further insulted. Making an effort to curb her kindling indignation, she rejoined, calmly as she could,—
“Such language may befit the fine Court ladies, with whom your Highness is accustomed to hold conversation. We simple country girls are not used to it.”
Regardless of modest manners, even of common decency, as was this German Prince, he felt the rebuke, and quailed under it. For the glance of quiet scorn that went with the words told him he was putting on airs, and paying compliments to no purpose. In that quarter all would be thrown away.
With a light laugh he endeavoured to conceal his discomfiture, saying apologetically,—
“Oh! mistress, you must pardon the free speech of a Cavalier. Our tongues, as our swords, often fly out without reflection. Be assured I meant not to offend—far from it.”
Apology was a bitter pill for Prince Rupert to swallow; but he gulped it down with a better grace, confident of having the “bit of saucy sweetness” in his power. If he failed to make conquest of her, there was another way to fall back upon; that to which his low familiar, Lunsford, had been all along counselling him.
The little désagrément brought their tête-à-tête to an end, the Prince not caring to continue it. It could be resumed at a more favourable opportunity, which he meant to find before leaving Hollymead. Seeming suddenly to recollect himself, he said, in voice loud enough to be heard by the elder sister, as he intended it,—
“But, ladies! I’ve only half apologised for our intrusion, and trust you will pardon it, when you hear my excuses. I was on the way to visit your worthy father, with whom I have some business. When hearing the hooha-ha!—ardent falconer as I am—I couldn’t resist coming across to learn the result. Permit me to take leave of you, with thanks for your gracious reception. Unless, indeed, you do me the further honour of letting me escort you to the house. If I dared make so free, I would even ask the favour of being introduced by you to your father, with whom I regret not having personal acquaintance.”
“Our father is not at home,” said Sabrina, speaking for both.
“Indeed?” he exclaimed, looking half-disappointed, half-pleased. “That’s unfortunate. But I suppose you expect him soon?”