Bolton raised her eyebrows, and drew down the corners of her lips,
with an air of rebuke. No one knew the meaning of that look except Mr.
Warden. The other guests were only entertained by Mrs. Chantrey's fine
flow of merry humor, and remarked how well she bore her husband's
absence.
"You saw her, Mr. Warden?" said Mrs. Bolton to him, in a low voice, when
they reassembled in the drawing-room.
"Yes," he answered, sorrowfully.
"You saw how I looked at her as much as to warn her," pursued Mrs.
Bolton. "I am sure she understood me, yet she allowed Brown to fill her
glass again and again. What could I do more? I have spoken to her in
private; I could not speak to her before our friends."
"I have told you before," he answered, "there is only one thing you can
do, and you refuse to do it."
"It would be ridiculous to do it," she said, sharply. "I am not going to
make myself a laughing-stock to all the world; and I cannot shut her up
in her room, and send her meals to her like a naughty child. You ought
to remonstrate with her."
"I will," he replied, "but it will be of little use, so long as the
temptation is there.
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