in, Mrs. Edmonstone engaged with that, Laura reading, Amy clearing
Charles's little table, and Philip helping Mr. Edmonstone to unravel
the confused accounts of the late cheating bailiff, Guy suddenly found
her standing by him, perusing his face with all the power of her great
blue eyes. She started as he looked up, and put her face into Amabel's
great myrtle as if she would make it appear that she was smelling to
it.

'Well, Charlotte?' said he, and the sound of his voice made her speak,
but in a frightened, embarrassed whisper.

'Guy--Guy--Oh! I beg your pardon, but I wanted to--'

'Well, what?' said he, kindly.

'I wanted to make sure that you are not angry with Philip. You don't
mean to keep up the feud, do you?'

'Feud?--I hope not,' said Guy, too much in earnest to be diverted with
her lecture. 'I am very much obliged to him.'

'Are you really?' said Charlotte, her head a little on one side. 'I
thought he had been scolding you.'

Scolding was so very inappropriate to Philip's calm, argumentative way
of advising, that it became impossible not to laugh.

'Not scolding, then?' said Charlotte. 'You are too nearly grown up for
that, but telling you to learn, and being tiresome.'