'll kill me with laughing! Cooking _tete-a-tetes_, Phoebe--I thought
better of you. Oh, fie!' and holding up her finger, as if in
displeasure, she hid her face in ecstasies of mirth at Phoebe's
bewildered simplicity.

'Robert wanted to speak to you,' she said, with puzzled gravity.

'And you would have set us together by the ears! No, no, thank you, I've
had enough of that sort of thing for one day. And what shallow excuses.
Oh! what fun to hear your pretexts. Wanting to see what Mrs. Parsons was
doing, when you knew perfectly well she was deep in a sermon, and wished
you at the antipodes. And blushing all the time, like a full-blown
poppy,' and off she went on a fresh score--but Phoebe, though
disconcerted for a moment, was not to be put out of countenance when she
understood her ground, and she continued with earnestness, undesired by
her companion--'Very likely I managed badly, but I know you do not really
think it improper to see Robert alone, and it is very important that you
should do so. Indeed it is, Lucy,' she added--the youthful candour and
seriousness of her pleading, in strong contrast to the flighty, mocking
carelessness of Lucilla's manners; 'do pray see him; I know he would make
you listen. Will you be so very kind? If you would go into the little
cedar room, I could call him at once.'

'Point blank! Sitting in my cedar parlour! Phoebe, you'll be the death
of me,' cried Cilly, between peals of merriment. 'Do you think I have
nerves of brass?'

'You would not laugh, if you knew how much he feels.'

'A very good thing for people to feel! It saves them from torpor.'

'Lucy, it is not kind to laugh when I tell you he is miserable.'

'That's only proper, my dear,' said Lucilla, entertained by teasing.

'Not miserable from doubt,' answered Phoebe, disconcerting in her turn.
'We know you too well for that;' and as an expression, amused, indignant,
but far from favourable, came over the fair face she was watching, she
added in haste, 'It is this project, he thought you had said it was given
up.'

'I am much indebted,' said Lucilla, haughtily, but again relapsing into
laughter; 'but to find myself so easily disposed of . . . Oh! Phoebe,
there's no scolding such a baby as you; but if it were not so absurd--'

'Lucy, Lucy, I beg your pardon; is it all a mistake, or have I said what
was wrong? Poor Robin will be so unhappy.'

Phoebe's distress touched Lucilla.

'Nonsense, you little goose;