nsfer her light to another quarter.
Laura was unable to imagine what had come into her sister's head--to
make her so inconsiderate, so rude. Selina tried to perform her act of
defection in a soothing, conciliating way, so far as appealing eyebeams
went; but she gave no particular reason for her escapade, withheld the
name of the friends in question and betrayed no consciousness that it
was not usual for ladies to roam about the lobbies. Laura asked her no
question, but she said to her, after an hesitation: 'You won't be long,
surely. You know you oughtn't to leave me here.' Selina took no notice
of this--excused herself in no way to the girl. Mr. Wendover only
exclaimed, smiling in reference to Laura's last remark: 'Oh, so far as
leaving you here goes----!' In spite of his great defect (and it was his
only one, that she could see) of having only an ascending scale of
seriousness, she judged him interestedly enough to feel a real pleasure
in noticing that though he was annoyed at Selina's going away and not
saying that she would come back soon, he conducted himself as a
gentleman should, submitted respectfully, gallantly, to her wish. He
suggested that her friends might perhaps, instead, be induced to come to
his box, but when she had objected, 'Oh, you see, there are too many,'
he put her shawl on her shoulders, opened the box, offered her his arm.
While this was going on Laura saw Lady Ringrose studying them with her
glass. Selina refused Mr. Wendover's arm; she said, 'Oh no, you stay
with _her_--I daresay _he'll_ take me:' and she gazed inspiringly at Mr.
Booker. Selina never mentioned a name when the pronoun would do. Mr.
Booker of course sprang to the service required and led her away, with
an injunction from his friend to bring her back promptly. As they went
off Laura heard Selina say to her companion--and she knew Mr. Wendover
could also hear it--'Nothing would have induced me to leave her alone
with _you_!' She thought this a very extraordinary speech--she thought
it even vulgar; especially considering that she had never seen the
young man till half an hour before and since then had not exchanged
twenty words with him. It came to their ears so distinctly that Laura
was moved to notice it by exclaiming, with a laugh: 'Poor Mr. Booker,
what does she suppose I would do to him?'

'Oh, it's for you she's afraid,' said Mr. Wendover.

Laura went on, after a moment: 'She oughtn't to have left me alone with
you, either.