“I would have you act your pleasure with regard to accepting this invitation.”
“It will be my pleasure,” said Julia, hesitating and coloring a little—“it will be my pleasure to consult yours.”
“I have little choice about it,” said Mr. Westbury, “and if you prefer declining to accepting it, I would have you do so.”
“Shall you attend it?” asked Julia, while a shade of anxiety passed over her features.
“Certainly not unless you do,” Mr. Westbury replied.
“Then,” said Julia, “if it be quite as agreeable to you, I had a thousand times rather spend it at home, alone with”—she checked herself, colored crimson, and left the sentence unfinished.
The morning after the levee, Mrs. Westbury was favored with another call from Mrs. Cunningham.
“Why, on earth were you not at Mrs. B——'s last night?” asked she almost as soon as she entered the house. “You can imagine nothing more splendid and delightful than every thing was.”
“You were there then?” said Julia.
“Yes, certainly—though I went quite late. Edward was sick of a violent head-ache, and I was obliged to see him safely in bed before I could go; but nothing would have tempted me to miss it.”