When Dick Shafto (as all the grooms in the stables
familiarly designated him) was ushered into the room, he nodded to
Sir Robert, and, turning his back on the ladies, told Pembroke he had
ridden to Somerset "on purpose to _bag_ him for Woodhill Lodge."
"Upon my life," cried he, "if you don't come, I will cut and run.
There is not a creature but yourself within twenty miles to whom I
can speak--not a man worth a sixpence. I wish my father had broken
his neck before he accepted that confounded embassy, which encumbers
me with the charge of my old mother!"
After this dutiful wish, which brought down a weighty admonition from
Miss Dorothy, the young gentleman promised to behave better, provided
she would persuade Pembroke to accompany him to the Lodge. Mr.
Somerset did not show much alacrity in his consent; but to rid his
family of so noisy a guest, he rose from his chair, and acquiescing
in the sacrifice of a few clays to good nature, bade his father
farewell, and gave orders for a ride to Grantham.
As soon as the gentlemen left the saloon, Miss Dundas ran up stairs,
and from her dressing-room window in the west tower pursued the steps
of their horses as they cantered down the winding steep into the high
road. An abrupt angle of the hill hiding them from her view, she
turned round with a toss of the head, and flinging herself into a
chair, exclaimed, "Now I shall be bored to death by this prosing
family! I wish his boasted hunter had run away with Shafto before he
thought of coming here!"
In consequence of the temper which engendered the above no very
flattering compliment to the society at the Castle, Miss Dundas
descended to the dining-room with sulky looks and a chilling air.
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