Turlington’s impatience broke through all restraint.
“How did it end?” he asked. “Did you propose to her that we should be married in the first week of the New Year?”
“Yes!” said Miss Lavinia.
“No!” said Sir Joseph.
The sister looked at the brother with an expression of affectionate surprise. The brother looked at the sister with a fund of amiable contradiction, expressed in a low bow.
“Do you really mean to deny, Joseph, that you told Natalie we had decided on the first week in the New Year?”
“I deny the New Year, Lavinia. I said early in January.”
“You will have your way, Joseph! We were walking in the shrubbery at the time. I had our dear girl’s arm in mine, and I felt it tremble. She suddenly stopped. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘not so soon!’ I said, ‘My dear, consider Richard!’ She turned to her father. She said, ‘Don’t, pray don’t press it so soon, papa! I respect Richard; I like Richard as your true and faithful friend; but I don’t love him as I ought to love him if I am to be his wife.’ Imagine her talking in that way! What could she possibly know about it? Of course we both laughed—”
“you laughed, Lavinia.”
“you laughed, Joseph.”