Very soon after this, the gentlemen strolled into the room—Mr. Grant first, as if anxious to make the more impression by his appearance. He looked round the room—and, as if satisfied by this survey that there was no one sufficiently attractive to induce him to engage in the labour of conversation, he walked away and took refuge in a small inner apartment, which opened from the drawing-room, and which was lighted by a single lamp.
Miss Millar shrugged her shoulders slightly and gave Emma an expressive look, but had no time for words, as they were at that moment joined by Margaret and Mr. Freemantle.
The latter made Annie a flourishing bow whilst exclaiming:
"Miss Millar, by all that is fair and felicitous, this is an unexpected pleasure."
She did not seem to find it so; but looked cold and careless, whilst she made him as slight a return for his salutation as possible.
"Would that I possessed an artist's pencil to pourtray the group before me," continued the young man, with affected rapture. "The graces exactly—it does, indeed, deserve to be commemorated on canvas or in marble. At all events, it is for ever impressed on the tablet of my heart."
Margaret giggled—Emma looked immoveably grave, whilst Annie smiled scornfully and said:
"What is that, Mr. Freemantle? Pray repeat that last sentence again, that I may commit it to memory."
It certainly is a thing very repulsive to human nature to repeat a sentence twice over—especially if it is a flourishing speech which only answers when thrown off hand at once.
Annie was perfectly aware that she could not have found a more effectual way of tormenting Mr. Freemantle; he looked very silly, and replied in a qualifying tone,