Fullarton stared.
‘I think your ladyship might have spared me all this trouble,’ he said, frowning; ‘you are making me look like a fool!’
‘But I only asked her to-day,’ replied she, her warmth fading, ‘not an hour ago—not five minutes. I had meant to say nothing, and let him be refused, but you can tell him, Fullarton—tell him it is no use.’
A peculiar smile was on his face.
‘My dear Eliza,’ he said, ‘Crauford is probably on his way here now. I undertook to bring you the letter and he is to follow it. I left him choosing a waistcoat to propose in.’
‘I am sorry,’ said Lady Eliza, too much cast down by his frown to be amused at this picture.
‘Well, what of it?’ he said, rather sourly. ‘He must learn his hard lessons like the rest of the world; there are enough of them and to spare for everyone.’
‘You are right,’ she replied, ‘terribly right.’
He looked at her critically.
‘What can you have to complain of? If anyone is fortunate, surely you are. You are your own mistress, you are well enough off to lead the life you choose, you have a charming companion, many friends——’