“I suppose it has. Though I thought how well I felt as I came along.”
“The great honour of entertaining you all by my own self is delegated to me,” cried Charlotte gaily, dropping another curtsey. “I hope we shall not quarrel, as those dogs are doing.”
“The honour of entertaining me!” he repeated, not grasping her meaning. “Entertaining me for what?”
“For dinner, sir. Mrs. Verrall has gone to London.”
“No!” he exclaimed. He did not believe her.
Charlotte nodded. “She went at midday.”
“But what took her away so suddenly?” exclaimed George, in surprise. “She had no intention yesterday of going.”
“A freak. Or, impulse—if you like the word better. Kate rarely acts upon anything else. She has been expecting Verrall home these last three days; but he has neither come nor written: and this morning, after the post was in, she suddenly declared she’d go to town, and see what was keeping him.”
“They may cross each other on the road.”
“Of course they may: and Kate have her journey for her pains. That’s nothing to her: she likes travelling. ‘What am I to do with Mr. George Godolphin? Entertain him?’ I said to her. ‘I suppose you can contrive to do it,’ she answered. ‘I suppose I could,’ I said. ‘But, what about its being proper?’ I asked,” added Charlotte, with a demure glance at George. “‘Oh,’ said Kate, ‘it’s proper enough, poor sick fellow: it would never do to disappoint him.’ Therefore, sir, please take care that you behave properly, considering that a young lady is your hostess.”