“Molly wanted to tell me something I didn’t know,” I replied. “Molly
wanted to tell me that I was blind and deaf and stupid, and that I
couldn’t see what was under my nose. She wanted to tell me of afternoon
appointments at her house, and Heaven knows what sort of carrying on.
She wanted----”
“Well, you shouldn’t tease them so,” replied Mrs. Loring, illogical,
after the manner of women, but staunch.
“Madam,” I said, “I am not so fatuous as to suppose that if two young
persons intend to practise idolatry on one another, my wisdom and
experience will stop them. But I have been plotted against, have been
told nothing; and I am entitled to get what melancholy amusement I can
out of the affair. You have spoiled my entertainment.”
I adjusted my hat to an angle suggestive of rectitude, and bowed myself
away. I made for my hostess, and had myself presented to the general.
“You have a promising young strategist in our young friend Bassishaw,” I
remarked.
“In what way?” he inquired.
“He has turned the flank of a superior force, and is in retreat with a
hostage,” I replied.
When, half an hour afterwards, I again encountered the victorious enemy,
they made straight for me. I received them with dignity.
“Rollo, dear,” began my sister, laying her hand affectionately on my
sleeve, and coming very close to me, “we have something to say to you.”
Her voice was almost a whisper.
“Yes,” said Bassishaw. “You see it’s this way, Butterfield, I’ve asked
Caroline to be my wife. I know it’s too bad not to have let you into it,
but, hang it all, you don’t encourage a chap much, you know. You’re so
deuced quizzy, you know. And, I say, Butterfield. That was all rot about
soldiers not marrying, now, wasn’t it? I know you’re a good chap,
Butterfield, and you’ll let me have Carrie, won’t you?”
I was afraid he was going to say I should not lose a sister but gain a
brother; but he didn’t. My spirit was broken; I had no dramatic surprise
left in me. Carrie looked up pleadingly, with a tiny little tear in one
eye.
“It’s 'yes,’ isn’t it, Butterfield?” said Bassishaw. “You’re the only
one to ask, you know. And if it isn’t 'yes,’ you know----”
Talented young man! He knew when to press a yielding foe. I sighed, and
took an arm of each. I feebly tried to recover my old authority, but
they talked laughingly across me, and I knew what sort of glances were
passing behind my head. I was led captive to Chatterton and his wife.
Action was better than insight after all.