“How little you know of Caroline,” replied Rosamond, “if you imagine that either in trifles, or in matters of consequence, _she_ would say one thing and do another.”
“I feel,” said Buckhurst, colouring, “what that emphasis on _she_ means. But I did not think you would have reproached me so severely. _I thought_ my cousin Rosamond was my friend.”
“So I am--but not a friend to your faults.”
“Surely it is no great crime in a young man to like going to a ball better than going to the Temple! But I am really concerned,” continued Buckhurst, “that I have deprived Miss Caroline Percy of the pleasure of being here to-night--and this was to have been her first appearance in public--I am quite sorry.”
“Caroline is not at all impatient to appear in public; and as to the pleasure of being at a ball, it costs her little to sacrifice that, or any pleasure of her own, for the advantage of others.”
“When Miss Caroline Percy said something about my falling in her father’s opinion for such a trifle, I could not guess that she was serious.”
“She does not,” replied Rosamond, “think it a trifle to break a promise.”
Buckhurst looked at his watch. “The mail-coach will pass through this town in an hour. It shall take me to London--Good bye--I will not stay another moment--I am gone. I wish I had gone yesterday--pray, my dear, good Rosamond, say so for me to Caroline.”
At this moment a beautiful young lady, attended by a large party, entered the ball-room. Buckhurst stopped to inquire who she was.
“Did you never see my sister before?” replied Colonel Hauton--“Oh! I must introduce you, and you shall dance with her.”
“You do me a great deal of honour--I shall be very happy--that is, I should be extremely happy--only unfortunately I am under a necessity of setting off immediately for London--I’m afraid I shall be late for the mail--Good night.”
Buckhurst made an effort, as he spoke, to pass on; but Colonel Hauton bursting into one of his horse laughs, held him fast by the arm, swore he must be drunk, for that he did not know what he was saying or doing.
Commissioner Falconer, who now came up, whispered to Buckhurst, “Are you mad? You can’t refuse--you’ll affront for ever!”
“I can’t help it,” said Buckhurst: “I’m sorry for it--I cannot help it.”