He asked Mrs. Carbuncle about the sport, and
then she whispered to him, "An engagement has been made."
"Sir Griffin?" suggested Frank. Mrs. Carbuncle smiled and nodded her head.
It was well that everybody should know it.
CHAPTER XLII
SUNDAY MORNING
"So, Miss, you've took him," said the joint Abigail of the Carbuncle
establishment that evening to the younger of her two mistresses. Mrs.
Carbuncle had resolved that the thing should be quite public.
"Just remember this," replied Lucinda, "I don't want to have a word said
to me on the subject."
"Only just to wish you joy, miss."
Lucinda turned round with a flash of anger at the girl. "I don't want your
wishing. That'll do. I can manage by myself. I won't have you come near me
if you can't hold your tongue when you're told."
"I can hold my tongue as well as anybody," said the Abigail with a toss of
her head.
This happened after the party had separated for the evening. At dinner Sir
Griffin had, of course, given Lucinda his arm; but so he had always done
since they had been at Portray. Lucinda hardly opened her mouth at table,
and had retreated to bed with a headache when the men, who on that day
lingered a few minutes after the ladies, went into the drawing-room.
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