"I humbly beg your pardon, Lady Ellis," he said, standing before her as shamefaced as any convicted schoolboy. "I cannot expect you to accord it to me, but I most sincerely beg it."
"I think I must accord it to you," she answered, in a pretty tantalizing sort of manner. "Your offence was not against me, but against some fabled monster of your fancy. You shall sketch her still after dinner for private circulation."
The sound of a gong as she spoke gave notice that dinner was ready. Mr. Lake held out his hand with hesitation.
"Will you ratify your pardon, Lady Ellis? Will you promise to forget as well as forgive? I shall never forget or forgive myself."
She frankly put her hand into his as she rose. "I have forgiven; I will promise to forget. But then, you know, you must not convert me into a nightmare."
"You a nightmare!" he impulsively cried, some of his old lightness returning to him. "If you are, it will be one of a different kind: a nightmare of attraction," he gallantly added, as he offered her his arm. "What did you think of me? Did you take me for a wild animal just arrived from the savage islands?"
"No," said Lady Ellis; "that is what you took the Begum for. I found you were under a mistake as soon as you spoke of my sister. I have no sister. But what about your intention of fishing here? I am sorry that I should frustrate it."
He bit his lip; he could not conceal his annoyance. "I thought you promised to forget," he softly whispered.
"And so I will."
"When did you arrive?"