“Enough!” cried Scrope. “You may retire.” Higgins bowed, and left the room.
“And now,” said Chetwynd, “may I ask the meaning of this inquiry?”
“My object is merely to establish a fact,” replied Scrope. “Lady Thicknesse and myself have just learnt, to our great surprise and annoyance, that our charming relative, Emmeline Barfleur, has had the imprudence to form an engagement with you.”
“Imprudence, sir!” cried Chetwynd.
“I might use a stronger term, but that will suffice. It cannot be very agreeable to those connected with her, that the daughter of the proud Sir Leycester Barfleur, who might marry any one she pleases, should throw herself away upon a—footman!”
Chetwynd absolutely started, but controlled himself by a great effort.
“I now understand your anxiety to secure Lady Thicknesses presence at our interview,” he said. “You have aimed a cowardly blow at me, but it has failed in effect. I treat your observation with scorn!” Then, turning to Lady Thicknesse, he added, “Since your nephew refuses to give me credit for acting like a gentleman, I must inform your ladyship that Emmeline is acquainted with the ridiculous circumstance of which so much has been made, and it merely excited her laughter. I have confessed all my follies and faults to her—all!—and she has forgiven me, because she believes in my promises of amendment.”
As he spoke the door opened, and Emmeline herself entered the room, accompanied by Mildred and Sir Bridgnorth Charlton.