“Well, of all the----!” Ferrers was puzzled and slightly alarmed. “There’s no need to fly out at me like a little fury, Pen. If you don’t want the engagement announced to-night--why, it shan’t be, of course. But what am I to say to my uncle?”
“Anything you like. Say I don’t feel well. Tell him it was the eclipse, if you want an excuse.” She laughed mirthlessly.
“Oh, very well; but I hope you’re not going to take up fancies, and go on like this----”
“If you are not satisfied, you have only to release me from my promise.”
“Not I. If you said you hated me I’d marry you just the same, and you don’t quite do that, do you?”
Her gleam of hope had vanished. Ferrers’ smile showed he had no intention of releasing her, and she wished with impotent rage that she could give him the faintest idea of the utter repulsion, the loathing dislike, with which he inspired her. But he would not see it for himself, and she would not stoop to entreat her freedom again. With a laughing recommendation to get a little colour into her cheeks before the evening, he left her, and she was thankful to be allowed to escape.
The evening was a terrible one to her, although she had foreseen that it would naturally fall to Major Keeling to take her in, as the only lady in the place besides Lady Haigh. The Chief was in one of his black moods, so the other men whispered to one another; and Penelope sat beside him through the stages of that interminable dinner, and waxed desperate. He could do much for her sake, but he could not speak and act as if the interview of that afternoon had never taken place, and he said barely a word during the meal, while the settled gloom in his eye when it rested upon Ferrers terrified Penelope. She threw herself into the breach, talked nonsense with the other men, as if despairing of getting a word from him, tried manfully to cover his silence, and knew all the time that she was wounding him afresh with every word she spoke. As soon as she and Lady Haigh were in the drawing-room she went straight to her guitar-case, and, getting out the instrument, tuned it to the utmost pitch of perfection. Presently Lady Haigh, who had been watching her anxiously, came and tried to take the guitar out of her hands.
