What stiff airs are these! approaching him.—I do assure you, my lord, I shall not take this behaviour well; and put my hand on his arm.
I was served right. Would you believe it? The man shook off my condescending hand, by raising his elbow scornfully. He really did!
Nay, then!—I left him, and retired to my former seat. I was vexed that it was Sunday: I wanted a little harmony.
Lord and Lady L—— both blamed me, by their looks; and my lady took my hand, and was leading me towards him. I shewed a little reluctance: and, would you have thought it? out of the drawing-room whipt my nimble lord, as if on purpose to avoid being moved by my concession.
I took my place again.
I beg of you, Charlotte, said Lady L——, go to my lord. You have used him ill.
When I think so, I will follow your advice, Lady L——.
And don't you think so, Lady G——? said Lord L——.
What! for taking my own option how I would be dressed to-day?—What! for deferring—That moment in came my bluff lord—Have I not, proceeded I, been forced to dine without him to-day? Did he let me know what account I could give of his absence? Or when he would return?—And see, now, how angry he looks!
He traversed the room—I went on—Did he not shake off my hand, when I laid it, smiling, on his arm? Would he answer me a question, which I kindly put to him, fearing he had not dined, and might be sick for want of eating? Was I not forced to apply to Lady L—— for an answer to my careful question, on his scornfully turning from me in silence?—Might we not, if he had not gone out so abruptly, nobody knows where, have made the appearance his heart is so set upon?—But now, indeed, it is too late.