Whereupon Elizabeth, as if she had satisfied her conscience regarding what was due from her in the name of hospitality, rose, and opened the door to the east parlor.
“Ugh! How dark and lonely the house is! No wonder aunt Sally chose to live at the parsonage.” After one look into the dark apartment, she closed the door. “Well, I’ll warm up the place a bit. Sorry you can’t stay with us, major.”
“It is only you who send me away,” said Colden, dismally and reproachfully. “I could have got longer leave of absence. You let me escort you here, because no gentleman of your family will lend himself to your reckless caprice. And then, having no further present use for me, you send me about my business!”
Elizabeth, preferring to pace the hall until her chamber should be heated, and her aunt should arrive, was striking her cloak with her riding-whip at each step; not that the cloak needed dusting, but as a method of releasing surplus energy.
“But I do have further present use for you,” she said. “You are going back to New York to inform my dear timid parents and sisters and brothers that I’ve arrived here safe. They’ll not sleep till you tell them so.”
“One of your slaves might bear that news as well,” quoth the major.
“Well, are you not forever calling yourself my slave? Besides, my devotion to King George won’t let me weaken his forces by holding one of his officers from duty longer than need be.”
But Colden was not to be cheered by pleasantry.
“What a man you are! So cross at my sending you back that you’ll neither eat nor drink before going. Pray don’t pout, Colden. ’Tis foolish!”