Richard came forward blushing, and was even permitted to kiss Miss Hardacre’s hand. Certainly Miss Jilian drew her fingers away somewhat hastily, and carried her auburn head with proper coldness and dignity.
“I have ridden over to ask your pardon, Jilian.”
“Pardon, cousin?”
“For the miserable affair last night. Aunt Letitia and I quarrelled after every one had gone, and I am afraid I lost my temper. I lay awake all night wondering what I should say to you in the morning.”
The lad looked very generous and very handsome as he stood there blushing, his dark eyes full of ardent light and all the sincerity of his heart quivering upon his words. Miss Hardacre still held her head in the air, tapped on the floor with one red-slippered foot, and was ready to pretend that she was not in the least eager for a reconciliation.
“I am sure this is very good of you, cousin,” she said, tartly; “I did not expect you here to-day. In fact, Sir Peter ordered me—”
She hesitated of a sudden, blushed very charmingly, and gave Mr. Richard an eloquent glimpse of her gray eyes.
“Sir Peter ordered you, Jilian?”
“Not to receive Mr. Richard Jeffray unless—”
“Unless?”