The marchioness bowed and smiled.
“That is just it. You have put it very nicely.”
“May I ask you to tell me his name?”
The marchioness threw a glance of mild reproach at her young friend.
“Surely, my dear Miss Yorke, you must know that! Every one tells me that his attentions have been most marked—Mr. Hammond.”
The marchioness brought out the name with a jerk, watching her victim keenly the while. But Belle gave her no assurance, by so much as the flutter of an eyelid, that the shaft had gone home.
“Mr. Hammond’s attentions to me have always been perfectly respectful.”
The marchioness positively bubbled over with shame at the implied suggestion that she had thought otherwise.
“Of course! Naturally! But you know, my dear girl, that society will take a very different view. Society is so incredulous. It never believes that a man’s friendship for a woman is perfectly respectful.”
“Not when he asks her to become his wife?” Belle could not resist the question.