John Hammond did not believe that the Lady Victoria Mauleverer did him the honor to love him after the fashion in which he loved Belle Yorke. But the frankness with which she conducted their mutual flirtation made him think of her as more sincere than the over-innocent maidens who pretended to turn shy at his approach, and practised the blushes which they had been taught by a Bond Street professor at a guinea a blush. He felt that there was something flattering to him in her disdain of the small arts of cajolery, and he told himself that the preference which she so plainly showed for him must needs be genuine.
It does not require very much to convince a man of any self-confidence that he possesses a woman’s regard. The very cynicism with which Victoria discussed their relations might be the cloak of a deeper feeling, which she was too proud to confess until its return was assured. In his present mood, however, Hammond felt no desire to penetrate beneath that surface good-comradeship, which was all that either he or Victoria had yet shown to the other. He could not have gone from his interview with Belle to make love to another woman. He, no more than Victoria, desired to be sentimental. Nevertheless, it soothed him to think that this woman, who was willing to meet him in his own spirit of indifference, might be secretly more fond of him than he was of her.
It seemed to him that the die was cast, and that he could not too soon put it out of his own power to recall the throw. He had fought out the struggle between Love and Ambition, and in the moment of surrendering to Love, Love had failed him. Well, Ambition was left. The marchioness had correctly diagnosed the symptoms, though she had little idea of their cause. John Hammond had come to propose to Victoria.
It only remained for the forethoughtful parent to get herself out of the way.
“It is too bad of you, Mr. Hammond!” she exclaimed, with the playfulness of a boa-constrictor. “I believe you knew I was here, and waited down below on purpose for me to go away.”
Hammond smiled rather wearily.
“Now, that is very artful of you, marchioness. The truth is that you are going away just because I have come.”
“You are perfectly right, Mr. Hammond,” remarked Victoria.
Her mother wrenched her lips into the similitude of a smile.
“I see what it is,” she said, with immense slyness. “You two have an understanding, and you want to get rid of me. Very well, I sha’n’t interfere with your little plans. I always know when I am in the way. Good-bye. Good-bye.”