The duchess and Lady Helen were listening to this dialogue, and watching the rising wrath of their father and the cool, calm bearing of Loo.
The earl read the letter, then rose and flung it and the carte into the fire. "The man is a vain fool," he said—"a perfect fool!"
"I don't see that, papa. I should have wished to have his likeness: I am not sure that I did not say so to him. I sometimes meet him in the cottages of the people about."
"Do you know the kind of insult you have brought upon yourself?"
"I have brought no insult on myself, and I know of none."
"In that letter he asked you to be his wife."
"The thing is not possible," she said, starting from her chair: "he must be mad. I his wife! Why, he'll want the moon down to put into his gig-lanterns next."
"If it were not for the laws of the country," said the earl, his face red with wrath—"if it were not for the laws of the country, I would shoot that man as I would shoot a partridge."
Lady Louisa rose and left the room: her sister Mary followed her. "Loo," she said, "you have been doing wrong."
"Not that I know of, Mary."