Part 44 (2/2)
”I can't very well at the present moment, for she is enjoying herself at the Lyceum.”
Sir John's face grew scarlet. He drew himself up to his stiffest att.i.tude, and compressed his lips firmly together.
”Perhaps you feel annoyed,” said Antonia, ”and I don't think I am surprised. Will you sit down and let me explain matters?”
”Pray do nothing of the kind. I can wait until Mrs. Bernard Temple comes home. When is the play likely to be over?”
”I expect mother and Annie and Nora back about half-past eleven. It is now half-past nine. Have you had dinner?”
”No.”
”Will you come downstairs, and let me give you something to eat?”
”No, thank you. As your mother is not at home, I shall dine at my club, and come back later on.”
”No, you won't,” said Antonia.
She started up, and placed herself between Sir John and the door. He felt himself groaning inwardly. Was that awful girl mad? What did her strange telegram mean? And why, if Mrs. Bernard Temple sent for him in a hurry, had she not the civility to wait at home to see him? This was really taking matters with a free-and-easy hand with a vengeance. The proud Sir John had never felt more thoroughly angry in his life. He stalked up to Antonia now, and endeavoured to pa.s.s her, but she dodged him successfully.
”I know you are a gentleman,” she said; ”and a gentleman always listens to what a lady has got to say, even when he is angry with her. I'm an awful personage in your eyes, but if you will listen to me to-night, I will promise to be as good and un.o.btrusive as girl can be in the future.
I'll even wear ordinary dresses when I come to visit you, and I won't talk of my sacred Art when you are in the room. There, can girl promise more?--can she?”
”Will you have the goodness to let me pa.s.s?” said Sir John.
”I will in a moment or two. You shall go and dine at your club after you have heard why I sent for you.”
”Why _you_ sent for me?” exclaimed Sir John.
”Oh, yes; it was all my doing.”
”But the message certainly came in your mother's name.”
”Yes, because you would not have come otherwise. It was I, Antonia, who really sent for you. You have come up to town in this violent hurry on my account. Now, will you come down to eat a very nice little dinner which has been prepared, and which the cook is waiting to send upstairs, and let me talk to you while you are enjoying it? Or will you listen to me here, and then go afterwards to your club? You must do one or other, unless you are rude enough to take me by main force and move me away from the door.”
Sir John Thornton might be very angry, but he was the pink of propriety, and the idea of lifting the bony Antonia from the neighbourhood of the door was too repellent even to be thought of for a moment.
”You have got me into a trap,” he said, ”and I am deeply offended. Your mother must explain the position of affairs to me when she chooses to return home. I suppose I must listen to you, whether I wish it or not. I only beg of you to be brief.”
”Now you are delightful,” said Antonia. ”Won't you sit down?”
”I prefer to stand.”
”Well, I'll sit, if you don't mind, for I've a good deal to say.”
”I must again beg of you to be brief.”
”Very well; I'll put it into a few words, but they'll be strong, I promise you.”
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