desirable society,” Neville said vaguely, thus revealing a hint of what, a moment before, his conscience would not allow him to discuss.
Sensing their new companion knew a great deal more of Denley than he had confessed, Mary pressed him a little further. “And the Marquis? What do you know of him?”
“Oh, well, nothing more than you do, I would think. His visit here was of some weeks duration, was it not? I would have thought you would tell me about him. ”
“Yes, Mary,” her brother insisted, “tell us about your excellent Lord Robert. Papa seems to be quite taken with him, with ‘Denley this, and Denley that.’”
Mary considered what to say. Were it only to Will she spoke, she might have been more unguarded, but Mr. Neville inspired in her an unusual degree of caution, for she did not want to appear to him to be cattish. In her hesitation, she was spared.
“I see by your hesitation that you do not want to tell us your opinion, Miss Fanley, and so I will not press you. You cannot like him very much, and I do not blame you. As to your Papa’s fancy for him, I do not comprehend it, but I cannot judge what I do not understand.”
“So you find him arrogant and disagreeable?” she asked, impulsively.
Neville smiled. “I see we are of the same mind on this subject, at least. But to your father he must exhibit a different sort of manners, so we must credit him with some semblance of respect and amiability.”
“Poo!” cried Will. “Papa’s notions about what constitutes amiability cannot be counted on. Praise a pig’s haunch or notice a cow’s ear drooping, and he thinks you are a great gun.”
“No, Will, I assure you, he is quite good to Papa. I have even, on occasion, felt a little sorry for him.”
“Sorry for him? That is a lark. Him and all his titles and privileges and all. I’m on the verge of tears me’self!”
Mr. Neville looked on in amusement while Will cajoled Mary to enlighten them as to what would inspire such compassion for the last person in England who stood in need of it.
“Oh, well, it was only on occasion, when — being new to the country — I took a slight advantage of him.”
Will shot her a measuring look. “Meaning you teased him, knowing you.”
“Yes,” she admitted with a laugh. “The worst occasion was on his first visit to the pig yard on the home farm, when he complained of the smell. I made a little joke of it; that is all.”
Will did not appreciate the delicacy of Mary’s reluctance to gossip in front of a houseguest. “Come, out with it Mary!” he demanded.
Mary blushed. “Oh, it was silly, really. I had the pigs washed is all.”
“You did not!” Will exclaimed.
“Oh, I did,” Mary hung her head. “In the clover patch with Mrs. Buntley’s everyday soap.”
The young men expressed delight and after extracting a few more details from his sister, Will complimented her in his youthful manner. “I always knew you were positively evil!”
“What said Denley to the doings?” asked Neville, with a gleam in his eye.
“Oh, he is too stiff and formal to have said anything to me in front of common folk. We drew a little crowd, as you would expect. But by his looks, I would say the Marquis felt himself included and a little ill-used by the joke.” By this time the colour had risen in Mary’s cheeks. In the confession of an incident that had entertained her and all the tenants at the time, she saw clearly that her conduct toward her guest had been grossly, unkind.
By the end of the walk, Mary could only feel remorse, but Mr. Neville looked more amused than ever. “I hope, Miss Fanley, that if I ever express a distaste for something in the country, you will show me a little more mercy than you did poor Denley.”
Mary’s eyes clouded. “Indeed, it was badly done of me, Mr. Neville.”
“I found it delightful.” He leaned over her hand, grazing her fingertips with his lips.
Miss Fanley stood in a daze where Oscar Neville left her at
Sensing their new companion knew a great deal more of Denley than he had confessed, Mary pressed him a little further. “And the Marquis? What do you know of him?”
“Oh, well, nothing more than you do, I would think. His visit here was of some weeks duration, was it not? I would have thought you would tell me about him. ”
“Yes, Mary,” her brother insisted, “tell us about your excellent Lord Robert. Papa seems to be quite taken with him, with ‘Denley this, and Denley that.’”
Mary considered what to say. Were it only to Will she spoke, she might have been more unguarded, but Mr. Neville inspired in her an unusual degree of caution, for she did not want to appear to him to be cattish. In her hesitation, she was spared.
“I see by your hesitation that you do not want to tell us your opinion, Miss Fanley, and so I will not press you. You cannot like him very much, and I do not blame you. As to your Papa’s fancy for him, I do not comprehend it, but I cannot judge what I do not understand.”
“So you find him arrogant and disagreeable?” she asked, impulsively.
Neville smiled. “I see we are of the same mind on this subject, at least. But to your father he must exhibit a different sort of manners, so we must credit him with some semblance of respect and amiability.”
“Poo!” cried Will. “Papa’s notions about what constitutes amiability cannot be counted on. Praise a pig’s haunch or notice a cow’s ear drooping, and he thinks you are a great gun.”
“No, Will, I assure you, he is quite good to Papa. I have even, on occasion, felt a little sorry for him.”
“Sorry for him? That is a lark. Him and all his titles and privileges and all. I’m on the verge of tears me’self!”
Mr. Neville looked on in amusement while Will cajoled Mary to enlighten them as to what would inspire such compassion for the last person in England who stood in need of it.
“Oh, well, it was only on occasion, when — being new to the country — I took a slight advantage of him.”
Will shot her a measuring look. “Meaning you teased him, knowing you.”
“Yes,” she admitted with a laugh. “The worst occasion was on his first visit to the pig yard on the home farm, when he complained of the smell. I made a little joke of it; that is all.”
Will did not appreciate the delicacy of Mary’s reluctance to gossip in front of a houseguest. “Come, out with it Mary!” he demanded.
Mary blushed. “Oh, it was silly, really. I had the pigs washed is all.”
“You did not!” Will exclaimed.
“Oh, I did,” Mary hung her head. “In the clover patch with Mrs. Buntley’s everyday soap.”
The young men expressed delight and after extracting a few more details from his sister, Will complimented her in his youthful manner. “I always knew you were positively evil!”
“What said Denley to the doings?” asked Neville, with a gleam in his eye.
“Oh, he is too stiff and formal to have said anything to me in front of common folk. We drew a little crowd, as you would expect. But by his looks, I would say the Marquis felt himself included and a little ill-used by the joke.” By this time the colour had risen in Mary’s cheeks. In the confession of an incident that had entertained her and all the tenants at the time, she saw clearly that her conduct toward her guest had been grossly, unkind.
By the end of the walk, Mary could only feel remorse, but Mr. Neville looked more amused than ever. “I hope, Miss Fanley, that if I ever express a distaste for something in the country, you will show me a little more mercy than you did poor Denley.”
Mary’s eyes clouded. “Indeed, it was badly done of me, Mr. Neville.”
“I found it delightful.” He leaned over her hand, grazing her fingertips with his lips.
Miss Fanley stood in a daze where Oscar Neville left her at
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