"And what are you going to do with your gallant warrior—
with the furious fire-eater who wanted to bring my humble career to a premature end?"
"I don't know who you mean," said the voice, but with no great decision.
"You don't remember saving my life, then?" he asked. "Have you forgotten the duel that was to have been fought before I went to Scotland, and how you stepped in to protect me? If it hadn't been for you, I might have fallen on the gory field of battle—"
"It's all very well for you to mock," said she, "but there's nothing that young man wouldn't do for my sake; and I don't see anything to laugh at in true esteem and affection. They're too rare nowadays. I know one or two gentlemen who might be improved by a little more devotion and—and chivalry. But it's all persiflage nowadays. Everything is connu—"
"Behind the scenes, perhaps; but it's different when you import the fresh, the ingenuous element from the outer world," said he (but what interest had he in the discussion?—he did not wear his heart on his sleeve for Miss Burgoyne to peck at). "Aren't you going to take Mr. Miles down with you?"
"Poor Percy!" said the now muffled voice (perhaps she had a pin in her teeth, or perhaps she was still further touching-up her lips), "I suppose he would come if he were invited; but he doesn't know any of them."
"Why don't you ask Lehmann for an invitation for him?"
"What do you mean, Mr. Moore?" demanded the voice—sharply enough now.
"Oh, nothing."