"I will fight in defence of any man who is maligned. I cannot think of Fox what you say. I pray say no more hereon. You pain me past words to express, and there really is no ground for what you do say."
"Take care! take care! Bess. I know Fox better than do you, better than does anyone else, and he may yet play you such a move as will checkmate you."
Elizabeth did not answer. The two girls took a turn on the lawn together, and Bessie drew Julian's arm tighter to her side; she even laid her disengaged hand on her shoulder, clinging to her as a supplicant.
The attitude, her manner was so full of entreaty, that Julian halted in her walk, turned to her, and asked, "What is it that you want, Bess?"
"My dear—dear Julian," Elizabeth stroked Julian's arm with her gentle hand, "O Julian! Do, I pray thee, not dance any more with Anthony."
"Why not, Bess?"
Elizabeth hesitated. She was unwilling, almost unable to express her reasons. An unrest was in her bosom, a fear in her heart, but nothing had taken distinct shape.
"My dear, dear Julian, I entreat you not. You should feel that it were fit that my brother should dance this evening with his wife—with Urith."
"She can no more dance than a goose," answered Julian, bluntly.