“It isn’t Hammond. I see you don’t understand the situation.” An ironical smile played for a moment on her companion’s face. “No, if it were only idle folly, I should try to shut my eyes to it. But I haven’t told you the worst. I hear that Mr. Hammond’s admiration for this person is perfectly honorable.”
“That does sound bad!” Despencer returned, gravely. “But I warned you against the man. I told you he was an outsider.”
“You are not to be so flippant,” said the marchioness, crossly. “Remember, you are talking to a mother whose child’s happiness is at stake, and tell me what I am to do. You see, the poor man evidently believes that this girl is perfectly proper.”
“Oh, he won’t believe that long, you may be quite sure.”
“The question is, who will undertake to open his eyes? It will really be doing him a kindness.”
“Yes; but people are so ungrateful for kindness,” objected the other. “Does this man Hammond know the marquis?” he asked, after a little hesitation.
“I expect so. But it is quite useless to think of him. He mustn’t be brought into it.”
Despencer smiled discreetly, as if he thought it might be rather difficult to keep the marquis out.
“Now, Mr. Despencer, you are my only hope,” pursued the marchioness. “I appeal to you in the interests of society.”
“You know I am your slave, marchioness. But it will be a difficult thing to manage. I almost think—”