“Why in the world should I think you’d mind? I thought you would be delighted. Why, Fay!” in utter amazement, for Félicia was weeping delicately into a lace handkerchief.
“You said you loved me, and now you’re having the Baron—everybody—see how little you care for me. You just haven’t the very slightest consideration for my feelings!”
Dismayed and astounded, but still utterly puzzled as to the nature of his offence, Usk knelt down hastily by her chair, and alternately entreated her forgiveness and adjured her to tell him what he had done. With him it was a matter of course that the women of a household should send forth their men to the chances of war or politics with a brave face and words of cheer, and he could not conceive Félicia’s feeling hurt at not being consulted. He did not know that Maimie’s triumphant “Now you see just how much he thinks about you!” was rankling in her mind, and that she had set her heart on proving her power over him. When she consented at last to remove the handkerchief from her eyes, it was merely to intimate that he might consider himself forgiven if he did not go. Usk sprang to his feet.
“And lose this chance—give Forfar a slap in the face?” he cried in astonishment. “Why, Fay, you must be mad! You’re joking, aren’t you? You couldn’t possibly mean it.”
“I guess I mean exactly what I say. You’re telling me all the time how much you love me, but I can’t just seem to realise it.”
“You mean that you ask me in cold blood to give up this chance, disappoint my people, offend Forfar, just because—why, it’s for no reason at all!”
“I don’t ask you anything,” said Félicia, rising regally, and throwing him a glance over her shoulder. “I just tell you to do it.”
“Well, then, I won’t,” returned Usk, with equal candour; but as she swept towards the door he intercepted her, breaking into a laugh, “Why, Fay, for the moment I thought you meant it. What a gorgeous scene we have been making over nothing at all! Now you don’t leave this room until you say you’re sorry, and signify the same in the usual manner. There! I’m getting quite a public speaker already.”
“It’s a pity if your future audiences don’t appreciate you better than the present one,” said Félicia coldly. “Kindly allow me pass. If you don’t choose to consult my wishes—well, you’re not the only man in the world, any way.”
“Now it would serve you right if I kept you here until you gave in,” said Usk, “but I hear my father tramping up and down in furious anxiety about the train. I’ll settle this little matter with you when I come back, but any token of penitence in the shape of a letter will receive due consideration. And—just that you mayn’t make yourself miserable thinking I’m angry with you—there! and there! and as many more assurances of pardon as you like.”