"My words were ready. I was intensely angry at his inclusion of Marion in 'his family,' and still more angry at his appropriation of the title of 'father' in any shape to my niece, and I answered haughtily: 'Sir, on her twenty-first birthday Miss Macrae will become the wife of Lord Richard Cramer. He was in Her Majesty's Household before his father's death, and on his return from India will probably resume his duties at St. James's Palace. That will give Miss Macrae entrance into the royal circle. There is no higher one.'"
"You said well, Jessy. And I am glad you were able to give the cocksure insolence of the purse-proud creature such a perfect rebuff. Did he say anything further?"
"For a moment he was astonished and mortified, but he quickly rallied, and said, with a queer little laugh, 'That is a great exaltation for the young lady. Just keep her head level by reminding her that there's many a slip between the cup and the lip.' Then I said, 'Good morning, sir.'"
After a few moments' silence Mrs. Caird continued in a tentative manner, as if reminding herself of the circumstance, "There was a long letter from Donald this morning."
A sudden interest came into Dr. Macrae's face, though his listless voice did not show it; however, Mrs. Caird was watching his face, not his voice, and she was not astonished when he asked:
"Where is he? Has he reached America?"
"Oh, no! He is in London at present. He escorted Lady Cramer from Paris to London two days ago."
"Lady Cramer?"
"She requested him to do so."
"What was Donald doing in Paris?"