He would have caught her by the shoulders again. But she eluded those eager hands of his.
“You haven’t told me yet where you are going.”
Gravely he flung the bombshell of his news, confident that it must lend him a new importance in her eyes, and thus, perhaps, bring her into something approaching subjection.
“I am going to London, to the army. My father has procured me a cornetcy of horse, and I am to serve under General Monk, who is his friend.”
It made an impression, though she did not give him the satisfaction of seeing how great that impression was. To do her justice, the army meant no more to her just at that moment than champing horses, blaring trumpets, and waving banners. Of its grimmer side she took as yet no thought: else she might have given his news a graver greeting. As it was, the surprise of it left her silent, staring at him in a new wonder. He took advantage of it to approach her again. He committed the mistake of attempting to force the pace. He caught her to him, taking her unawares this time and seizing her suddenly, before she could elude him.
“Nan, my dear!”
She struggled in his arms. But he held her firmly. She struggled the harder, and, finding her struggles ineffective, her temper rose. Her hands against his breast she thrust him back.
“Release me at once! Release me, or I’ll scream!”
At that and the anger in her voice, he let her go, and stood sheepishly, abashed, whilst she retreated a few paces from him, breathing quickly, her eyes aflash.
“My faith! You’ll be a great success in London! They’ll like your oafish ways up yonder. I think you had better go.”