“Fulsome flatterer!”
“In troth! ’tis true; and that’s why Dorothy Dayrell dislikes you. She wants to be everything; and knows that you take her laurels from her. On the day of the fête, she did everything in her power to captivate the man, whom she pretended to disparage!”
“Holtspur?”
“Yes: I saw her. She used all her arts to attract his attention. Ah, Marion! he had only eyes for you. And now that he is gone, she’s set herself to attract Captain Scarthe. My word! won’t she try to-day? Sweet coz! I don’t want you to act the hypocrite; but can’t you—yes you can—flirt a little with Scarthe—just to give her a chagrin? Oh! I should so like to see that girl suffer what she deserves,—a chapter of humiliation!”
“Foolish child! you know I cannot do that? It is not according to my inclination—and just now less than ever in my life.”
“Only for an hour—to punish her!”
“How should you like to be so punished yourself? Suppose some one, to-day, were to flirt with Walter; or he with some one?”
“Then I’d flirt with Stubbs!”
“Incorrigible coquette! I think you like Walter; but only that: Ah, Lora! you know not what it is to love!”
“Don’t I though—”