[V.]
Bartlett and Constance
Both, at once.—"I came to"—
Bartlett.—"Restore you your box of colours and your canvas, which I carried off by mistake."
Constance.—"To say that I am very, very sorry for my rudeness to you, and to entreat you to forget my abominable words, if you can."
Bartlett, with a generous rush of emotion, dropping the canvas on the floor at one side and the box of colours on the other, and snatching her extended hand to his lips.— "Don't say that. I deserved a thousand times more. You were right."
Constance.—"No, no! I can't let you blame yourself to save me from self-reproach. I know papa was ridiculous. But what made me angry was this thought that you were laughing at him. I couldn't bear that. I shouldn't have minded your laughing at me; but at papa!"
Bartlett, sadly.—"I happened to be laughing much more at myself than your father. Where is the General?"
Constance.—"He has gone with mamma. They wondered where you were, and I said you were coming back again."