"May-be, may-be," answered she, very rapidly. "But it not to billiards that you go every evening. Every evening!—every evening! Not an evening now, but you go out, you go out! I bought Tasso—do you know that I bought Tasso?—that I have bought it with my money, that you may have the pleasure of hearing me read it, as you said—as you call it? Should I spend the money, had I thought you would not come when I had it—would not care to hear it read?"
Had she been in a more amiable mood, Herbert would have told her that she was a simpleton for spending her money; he would have told her that Tasso, read in the original, would have been to him unintelligible as Sanscrit. He had a faint remembrance of saying to mademoiselle that he should like to read Tasso, in answer to a remark that Tasso was her favourite of the Italian poets: but he had only made the observation carelessly, without seriously meaning anything. And she had been so foolish as to go and buy it!
"Will you come this evening and hear it begun?" she continued, breaking the pause, and speaking rather more graciously.
"Upon my word of honour, Bianca, I can't to-night," he answered, feeling himself, between the two—the engagement made, and the engagement sought to be made—somewhat embarrassed. "I will come another evening; you may depend upon me."
"You say to me yesterday that you would come this evening; that I might depend upon you. Much you care!"
"But I could not help myself. An engagement arose, and I was obliged to fall in with it. I was, indeed. I'll hear Tasso another evening."
"You will not break your paltry engagement at billiards to keep your word to a lady! C'est bien!"
"It—it is not altogether that," replied Herbert, getting out of the reproach in the best way he could. "I have some business as well."
She fastened her glistening eyes upon him. There was an expression in them which Herbert neither understood nor liked. "C'est très bien!" she slowly repeated. "I know where you are going, and for what!"
A smile—at her assumed knowledge, and what it was worth—flitted over Herbert Dare's face. "You are very wise," said he.