Answers, however, met each objection. Charles was much stronger; Guy's arm would be ready for him; Guy would find the carriage. Philip would be there to help, besides Maurice; and whenever Charles was tired, Guy would take him home at once, without spoiling any one's pleasure.
'Except your own,' said Mrs. Edmonstone.
'Thank you; but this would be so delightful.'
'Ah!' said Charles, 'it would be as great a triumph as the dog's that caught the hare with the clog round his neck--the dog's, I mean.'
'If you will but trust me with him,' said Guy, turning on her all the pleading eloquence of his eyes, 'you know he can get in and out of the pony-carriage quite easily.'
'As well as walk across the room,' said Charles.
'I would drive him in it, and tell William to ride in and be at hand to hold the pony or take it out; and the tent is so near, that you could get to the breakfast, unless the review had been enough for you. I paced the distance to make sure, and it is no further than from the garden-door to the cherry-tree.'
'That is nothing,' said Charles.
'And William shall be in waiting to bring the pony the instant you are ready, and we can go home independently of every one else.'
'I thought,' interposed Mrs. Edmonstone, 'that you were to go to the mess-dinner--what is to become of that?'
'O,' said Charles, 'that will be simply a bore, and he may rejoice to be excused from going the whole hog.'
'To be sure, I had rather dine in peace at home.'
Mrs. Edmonstone was not happy, but she had great confidence in Guy; and her only real scruple was, that she did not think it fair to occupy him entirely with attendance on her son. She referred it to papa, which, as every one knew, was the same as yielding the point, and consoled herself by the certainty that to prevent it would be a great disappointment to both the youths. Laura was convinced that to achieve the adventure of Charles at the review, was at present at least a matter of far more prominence with Guy than anything relating to herself.
All but Laura and her mother were wild about the weather, especially on Wednesday, when there was an attempt at a thunder storm. Nothing was studied but the sky; and the conversation consisted of prognostications, reports of rises and falls of the glass, of the way weather-cocks were turning, or about to turn, of swallows flying high or low, red sunsets, and halos round the moon, until at last Guy, bursting into a merry laugh, begged Mrs. Edmonstone's pardon for being such a nuisance, and made a vow, and kept it, that be the weather what it might, he would say not another word about it that evening; it deserved to be neglected, for he had not been able to settle to anything all day.