Part 31 (1/2)
glancing at him with a mocking smile, ”Lady Chetwoode quite forgot to deliver that small lecture. You, Sir Guy, as my guardian, should have reminded her.”
CHAPTER XIII.
”Sweets to the sweet.”--_Hamlet._
”I am going to London in the morning. Can I do anything for anybody?”
asks Sir Guy, at exactly twenty minutes past ten on Wednesday night.
”Madre, what of you?”
”Nothing, dear, thank you,” says the Madre, lazily enough, her eyes comfortably closed. ”But to-morrow, my dear boy! why to-morrow? You know we expect Archibald.”
”I shall be home long before he arrives, if I don't meet him and bring him with me.”
”Some people make a point of being from home when their guests are expected,” says Miss Lilian, pointedly, raising demure eyes to his.
”Some other people make a point of being ungenerous,” retorts he.
”Florence, can I bring you anything?”
”I want some wools matched: I cannot finish the parrot's tail in my crewel-work until I get them, and you will be some hours earlier than the post.”
”What! you expect me to enter a fancy shop--is that what you call it?--and sort wools, while the young woman behind the counter makes love to me? I should die of shame.”
”Nonsense! you need only hand in the envelope I will prepare for you, and wait until you receive an answer to it.”
”Very good. I dare say I shall survive so much. And you, my ward? How can I serve you?”
”In a thousand ways, but modesty forbids my mentioning them. _Au reste_, I want bonbons, a new book or two, and--the portrait of the handsomest young man in London.”
”I thoroughly understand, and am immensely flattered. I shall have myself taken the moment I get there. Would you prefer me sitting or standing, with my hat on or off? A small size or a cabinet?”
Miss Chesney makes a little grimace eminently becoming, but disdains direct reply. ”I said a _young_ man,” she remarks, severely.
”I heard you. Am not I in the flower of my youth and beauty?”
”Lilian evidently does not think so,” says Florence, with a would-be air of intense surprise.
”Why should I, when it suits me to think differently?” returns Lilian, calmly. Florence rather amuses her than otherwise. ”Sir Guy and I are quite good friends at present. He has been civil to me for two whole days together, and has not once told me I have a horrid temper, or held me up to scorn in any way. Such conduct deserves reward. Therefore I liken him to an elderly gentleman, because I adore old men. You see, Guardy?” with an indescribably fascinating air, that has a suspicion of sauciness only calculated to heighten its charm.
”I should think he is old in reality to you,” says Florence: ”you are such a child.”
”I am,” says Lilian, agreeably, though secretly annoyed at the other's slighting tone. ”I like it. There is nothing so good as youth. I should like to be eighteen always. But for my babyish ways and utter hopelessness, I feel positive Sir Guy would have beaten me long ago. But who could chastise an infant?”
”In long robes,” puts in Cyril, who is deep in the intricacies of chess with Mr. Musgrave.
”Besides, I am 'Esther Summerson,' and he is 'Mr. Jarndyce,' and Esther's 'Guardy' very rightly was in perfect subjection to his ward.”
”Esther's guardian, if I remember correctly, fell in love with her; and she let him see”--dreamily but spitefully--”that she preferred another.”