It was bitter to Van Aldin that a daughter of his should be gulled by such a man, yet he was forced to admit that she was in good company—that other well-bred and intelligent women had succumbed just as easily to the Count's fascination. Men saw through him, women did not.
He sought now for a phrase that would allay any suspicion that his secretary might have felt.
"Ruth is always changing her mind about things at a moment's notice," he remarked, and then he added in a would-be careless tone: "The maid didn't give any—er—reason for this change of plan?"
Knighton was careful to make his voice as natural as possible as he replied:
"She said, sir, that Mrs. Kettering had met a friend unexpectedly."
"Is that so?"
The secretary's practised ears caught the note of strain underlying the seemingly casual tone.
"Oh, I see. Man or woman?"
"I think she said a man, sir."
Van Aldin nodded. His worst fears were being realized. He rose from his chair, and began pacing up and down the room, a habit of his when agitated. Unable to contain his feelings any longer, he burst forth: