Carleigh could hardly place himself. Whether he was in his right senses or had all at once lost his reason—turned lunatic—he couldn't just tell for the life of him.
Nevertheless, he eagerly obeyed her suggestion. He took her in his arms and he kissed her—not once, but thrice.
Then they walked home.
CHAPTER XIV
Truths, Kisses, and Ducal Ennui
Carleigh, in his room before dinner that evening, took his head in his hands and wondered.
He wondered a long time, but nothing very clear resulted. Then he rebrushed his disordered hair until it was smooth and shining once more, and went down.
The dinner guests were Mr. Telborn and the Marchioness of Highshire, who happened to be legally man and wife. Both of them were exceedingly lofty personages.
"We wouldn't have come if we had known the Greys were here," the Marchioness said confidentially to Lady Bellingdown, with a slight frown as they sat waiting. "Mr. Telborn never liked him, anyway, and since the affair of—"