the end to walk back. Sydney pulled Susan’s arm companionably through her own.
“Is this not a fine room?” Sydney ventured, gazing at a series of Hogarth prints along the north wall. Susan, however, had no opinions on either architecture or art, and replied with a polite but unimaginative, “Yes, indeed!’’
Sydney tried another tack. “You have a brother, do you not, Susan? I wish he could have come with you to Long Hill.’’
Susan said she believed Dolph had been engaged elsewhere this week, but she did not know precisely. “He does not confide in me a great deal, you see.”
Sydney thought this rather odd, having herself been the recipient of her four cousins’ confidences almost from the time she was out of leading strings.
“I do hope we shall be friends, Susan,” she said, patting the younger girl’s hand in much the same way Susan’s mother was accustomed to do to Sydney, “for I am acquainted with no one in London, and must depend on you to introduce me to people.’’
“Oh, Miss Archer!” Susan exclaimed, as they made the turn again at the end of the room. “I shall be happy to stand you a friend—but surely my lord Lyle—and Mr. Maitland, of course—will make you acquainted with more important people than I can boast of knowing!’’
“You must call me Sydney, you know, Susan—I assure you, you will soon become accustomed to the oddity of it! My lord guardian will not be honouring London with a visit this season, I fear, and as for Cedric—he is a bachelor, after all, and cannot know as many of the young ladies and settled people as you and your mama must do.”
“But surely his lordship will wish to be in attendance,” Susan protested, not having taken in any more of Sydney’s speech than that.
“It appears he does not,” Sydney replied enigmatically (they were just then approaching the card table again), “but I think we will do better on our own in any case” (this when they had made the turn). “Do you not think so?”
“Oh, yes!” Susan breathed fervently. Sydney looked sharply at her.
“Susan, dear, you’re not afraid of Lyle, are you?”
“Oh, no! That is, not afraid precisely , but he does give the impression of not quite approving of a mere female—except for you, of course.”
“What?”
Sydney looked quickly over her shoulder to see if anyone had heard this rather loud exclamation, startled out of her by Susan’s bizarre—and surely unjustified—remark. Fortunately, the card players appeared to be absorbed in their game, and Lyle had picked up a book and was leafing through it.
“Susan, you must be mistaken! Really, you have been here such a short time, and have had only this evening to observe Lyle in action—that is, I am certain he can have said nothing to you to indicate he approves of me. Far from it!”
Susan looked down at Lyle’s very fine Axminster carpet and said, “Perhaps you are right, Miss Archer—Sydney. It is true that I cannot recall any particular words of his lordship’s, but it is also true that although I have known him all my life, I am a—a little frightened of him, and—well, the thing is, he is usually so disapproving that I know very well when he likes something!’’
Susan raced breathlessly and in a kind of stage whisper to the end of this speech, and looked up at Sydney’s face to see if the other girl understood her, but Sydney was staring fixedly ahead at Lyle’s profile and thinking hard. She realized suddenly that she—Sydney Archer, of all people—was more frightened of the Marquess of Lyle than even his timid cousin was.
How could that be? she wondered. She had got along very well with every other gentleman she had ever met—such few as had passed through the vicarage, at least—although she had never behaved quite so recklessly as she did here at Long Hill. Her Uncle Augustus had always teased her that her tongue ran on wheels, but he would be astounded to hear some of the things she had been
“Is this not a fine room?” Sydney ventured, gazing at a series of Hogarth prints along the north wall. Susan, however, had no opinions on either architecture or art, and replied with a polite but unimaginative, “Yes, indeed!’’
Sydney tried another tack. “You have a brother, do you not, Susan? I wish he could have come with you to Long Hill.’’
Susan said she believed Dolph had been engaged elsewhere this week, but she did not know precisely. “He does not confide in me a great deal, you see.”
Sydney thought this rather odd, having herself been the recipient of her four cousins’ confidences almost from the time she was out of leading strings.
“I do hope we shall be friends, Susan,” she said, patting the younger girl’s hand in much the same way Susan’s mother was accustomed to do to Sydney, “for I am acquainted with no one in London, and must depend on you to introduce me to people.’’
“Oh, Miss Archer!” Susan exclaimed, as they made the turn again at the end of the room. “I shall be happy to stand you a friend—but surely my lord Lyle—and Mr. Maitland, of course—will make you acquainted with more important people than I can boast of knowing!’’
“You must call me Sydney, you know, Susan—I assure you, you will soon become accustomed to the oddity of it! My lord guardian will not be honouring London with a visit this season, I fear, and as for Cedric—he is a bachelor, after all, and cannot know as many of the young ladies and settled people as you and your mama must do.”
“But surely his lordship will wish to be in attendance,” Susan protested, not having taken in any more of Sydney’s speech than that.
“It appears he does not,” Sydney replied enigmatically (they were just then approaching the card table again), “but I think we will do better on our own in any case” (this when they had made the turn). “Do you not think so?”
“Oh, yes!” Susan breathed fervently. Sydney looked sharply at her.
“Susan, dear, you’re not afraid of Lyle, are you?”
“Oh, no! That is, not afraid precisely , but he does give the impression of not quite approving of a mere female—except for you, of course.”
“What?”
Sydney looked quickly over her shoulder to see if anyone had heard this rather loud exclamation, startled out of her by Susan’s bizarre—and surely unjustified—remark. Fortunately, the card players appeared to be absorbed in their game, and Lyle had picked up a book and was leafing through it.
“Susan, you must be mistaken! Really, you have been here such a short time, and have had only this evening to observe Lyle in action—that is, I am certain he can have said nothing to you to indicate he approves of me. Far from it!”
Susan looked down at Lyle’s very fine Axminster carpet and said, “Perhaps you are right, Miss Archer—Sydney. It is true that I cannot recall any particular words of his lordship’s, but it is also true that although I have known him all my life, I am a—a little frightened of him, and—well, the thing is, he is usually so disapproving that I know very well when he likes something!’’
Susan raced breathlessly and in a kind of stage whisper to the end of this speech, and looked up at Sydney’s face to see if the other girl understood her, but Sydney was staring fixedly ahead at Lyle’s profile and thinking hard. She realized suddenly that she—Sydney Archer, of all people—was more frightened of the Marquess of Lyle than even his timid cousin was.
How could that be? she wondered. She had got along very well with every other gentleman she had ever met—such few as had passed through the vicarage, at least—although she had never behaved quite so recklessly as she did here at Long Hill. Her Uncle Augustus had always teased her that her tongue ran on wheels, but he would be astounded to hear some of the things she had been
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