Her voice failed her a moment. Anderson stood motionless, bending towards her, hanging upon her every gesture and tone.
"Till Mr. Anderson--" she resumed, "is--well!--is brave enough to--trust a woman! and--oh! good Heavens!"--she dashed the tears from her eyes, half laughing, as her self-control broke down--"clever enough to save her from proposing to him in this abominable way!"
She sprang to her feet impatiently. Anderson would have caught her in his arms; but with a flashing look, she put him aside. A wail broke from Mrs. Gaddesden:
"Lisa--you won't leave us!"
"Never, darling--unless you send me!--or come with me! And now, don't you think, Philip dearest, you might let us all go to bed? You are really not worse, you know; and Mother and I are going to carry you off south--very, very soon."
She bent to him and kissed his brow. Philip's face gradually changed beneath her look, from the tension and gloom with which he had begun the scene to a kind of boyish relief--a touch of pleasure--of mischief even. His high, majestical pretensions vanished away; a light and volatile mind thought no more of them; and he turned eagerly to another idea.
"Elizabeth, do you know that you have proposed to Anderson?"
"If I have, it was your fault."
"He hasn't said Yes?"
Elizabeth was silent. Anderson came forward--but Philip stopped him with a gesture.