'Peccavi! is she here?'
'She is in the card-room at whist,' said Flora.
'Where she will probably stay all the evening?' I suggested.
'She may,' she admitted; 'she generally does!'
'Well, then, I must avoid the card-room,' said I, 'which is very
much what I had counted upon doing. I did not come here to play
cards, but to contemplate a certain young lady to my heart's
content--if it can ever be contented!--and to tell her some good
news.'
'But there are still Ronald and the Major!' she persisted. 'They
are not card-room fixtures! Ronald will be coming and going. And
as for Mr. Chevenix, he--'
'Always sits with Miss Flora?' I interrupted. 'And they talk of
poor St. Ives? I had gathered as much, my dear; and Mr. Ducie has
come to prevent it! But pray dismiss these fears! I mind no one
but your aunt.'
'Why my aunt?'
'Because your aunt is a lady, my dear, and a very clever lady, and,
like all clever ladies, a very rash lady,' said I. 'You can never
count upon them, unless you are sure of getting them in a corner,
as I have got you, and talking them over rationally, as I am just
engaged on with yourself! It would be quite the same to your aunt
to make the worst kind of a scandal, with an equal indifference to
my danger and to the feelings of our good host!'
'Well,' she said, 'and what of Ronald, then? Do you think HE is
above making a scandal? You must know him very little!'
'On the other hand, it is my pretension that I know him very well!'
I replied.
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