By this time Malbone had edged himself to Emilia’s side. “Will you drive with me?” he murmured in an undertone.
She nodded slightly, abruptly, and he withdrew again.
“It seems barbarous,” said he aloud, “to break up the party. But I must claim my promised drive with Miss Emilia.”
Blanche looked up, for once amazed, having heard a different programme arranged. Count Posen looked up also. But he thought he must have misunderstood Emilia’s acceptance of his previous offer to drive her; and as he prided himself even more on his English than on his gallantry, he said no more. It was no great matter. Young Jones’s dog-cart was at the door, and always opened eagerly its arms to anybody with a title.
XII. A NEW ENGAGEMENT.
TEN days later Philip came into Aunt Jane’s parlor, looking excited and gloomy, with a letter in his hand. He put it down on her table without its envelope,—a thing that always particularly annoyed her. A letter without its envelope, she was wont to say, was like a man without a face, or a key without a string,—something incomplete, preposterous. As usual, however, he strode across her prejudices, and said, “I have something to tell you. It is a fact.”
“Is it?” said Aunt Jane, curtly. “That is refreshing in these times.”
“A good beginning,” said Kate. “Go on. You have prepared us for something incredible.”
“You will think it so,” said Malbone. “Emilia is engaged to Mr. John Lambert.” And he went out of the room.