Mowbray, who seemed to be really sorry that he had vexed his sister, and
that he had in the heyday of his spirit unveiled to me her defects of
temper, did every thing in his power to make up matters between us. At
dinner he placed me beside Anne, little sister Anne; but no caressing tone,
no diminutive of kindness in English, or soft Italian, could touch her
heart, or move the gloomy purpose of her soul. Her sulky ladyship almost
turned her back upon me, as she listened only to Colonel Topham, who was
on the other side. Mowbray coaxed her to eat, but she refused every thing
he offered--would not accept even his compliments--his compliments on her
_pouf_--would not allow him to show her off, as he well knew how to do, to
advantage; would not, when he exerted himself to prevent her silence from
being remarked, smile at any one of the many entertaining things he said;
she would not, in short, even passively permit his attempts to cover her
ill-humour, and to make things pass off well.

In the evening, when the higher powers drew off to cards, and when Lady
Anne had her phalanx of young ladies round her; and whilst I stood a
defenceless young man at her mercy, she made me feel her vengeance. She
talked _at_ me continually, and at every opening gave me sly cuts, which
she flattered herself I felt sorely.

Mowbray turned off the blows as fast as they were aimed, or treated them
all as playful traits of lover-like malice, tokens of a lady's favour.

"Ha! a good cut, Harrington!--Happy man!--Up to you there, Harrington! High
favour, when a lady condescends to remember and retaliate. Paid you for old
scores!--Sign you're in her books now!--'No more to say to you, Mr.
Harrington'--a fair challenge to say a great deal more to her."

And all the time her ladyship was aiming to vex, and hoping that I was