“’Tis false,” said Matilda, quickly, her bosom evidently palpitating with shame and anger.
“Then how could you think of waltzing with him? I am sure neither Edmund nor myself would have dared (brothers as we once deemed ourselves) to have taken—but—really I beg pardon, Miss Hanson; while I condemn another, I intrude too far myself.”
Matilda was just stepping into the carriage; she turned her eyes on Charles—they were full of tears, tears such as he had seen in her repentant eyes in early days; he was affected with them—he felt that the latter part of his speech had hurt her—that she was not the fashionable belle, but still the good girl he must love and admire.—“Then,” cried he, eagerly, “you will not marry that sprig of a baronet—eh, Matilda?”
“I will not indeed.”
“And do you not mean to waltz again?”
“No; I was a fool once, but——”
The carriage drove off, and Charles returned with a light heart to the ball-room; but that of Edmund was very heavy, and the friends shortly left the gay scene, and returned to Mr. Harewood’s.
CHAPTER XV.
“I WILL never go any where again without you, indeed, mother, I am determined,” said Matilda, with a sorrowful air, the following morning.