But Georgiana had suddenly recalled her wits to their duty, and they had promptly informed her how the world would expect a young lady to comport herself in such a situation. She quietly interrupted:
“Nay, sir, I haven’t asked your name, and there is no need you should tell it, as we are not likely to meet again. I thank you for your willingness to befriend me, and your offer of service.—There is one thing you may do for me, if you will.”
The dejected look that had come over Everell’s face flashed into eagerness, and he started forward. “Name it, madam!”
Georgiana smiled, but said as sweetly as possible, to compensate in some measure for the disappointment she foresaw too late, “If you will pull the bell-rope yonder, I shall be very grateful—most grateful.”
Everell’s looks groaned for him, and he was too far taken down to move. Roughwood laughed gently, and after a moment, as he was nearer the bell-rope, went toward it. This restored Everell to animation.
“Nay, Will, ’tis my affair!” he cried, and, stepping between his friend and the rope, gave it so earnest a pull, with such a flourish, that anybody must have marvelled to see how serious and magnificent a performance the pulling of a bell-rope could be made.
Georgiana thanked him, and stood smiling, with nothing more to say. Everell found himself afflicted with a similar lack, or confusion, of ideas, as well as from inability to take his eyes off the young lady. She sought relief from his gaze by walking to the window. Presently the maid appeared, in response to the bell.
“Tell my waiting-woman to come to me,” said Georgiana. The maid having gone, another space of embarrassment ensued, until Georgiana was fain to break the silence by an ill-simulated cough. This was followed by a profound sigh on the part of Everell, who had indeed never been so tongue-tied in his life. Roughwood meanwhile stood witnessing with amusement. He was not the sort of man to come to the rescue at such junctures in any case, being of a reserved disposition, and he was certainly not inclined to pity the discomposure of his gay and confident friend.
At last Prudence made her appearance, with officious haste and solicitude. “What is it, your la’ship?” Seeing the gentlemen, she turned her glance upon them before her mistress could answer. “Oh, lor!” she cried, and stood stock-still, staring open-mouthed at Everell.
“Prudence! what do you mean?” said Georgiana.