All this while Dalby had sat listening and smiling to himself; just what he wanted. Lord Randolph at last noticed this, and exclaimed, "Dalby—you who know every thing, I bet my life, know more than any of us about Tremenhere."
"How should I?" he answered evasively, to excite more curiosity on his host's part. "By the way, has he finished your 'Aurora' yet?" He wished them to think he was anxious to turn the subject.
"No," replied Lord Randolph. "He says he cannot meet with a face to please him for the goddess."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Dalby, as if involuntarily. "That's too good a joke!"
"By Jove! you know something more than you tell us, Dalby. Come, man, have it out; make a clean breast of it."
"Pshaw, I know nothing! I only laughed at the idea of not finding a lovely Aurorean face, even in London."
"Come, that won't do," cried two or three; "you do know something—let's have it."
Dalby thought a moment. To tell all these men would not do; he had gained his point, in exciting Lord Randolph's curiosity. His very hesitation said more than words. Finding himself rigorously attacked, he affected to have done this to raise a storm of curiosity in their minds; and, in the midst of their clamour, he quickly turned his eye on his host, and, giving him a peculiar look of intelligence, said, "I assure you, I know only this, that were I an engaged man, I should very much hesitate in trusting my 'ladye-love' so near so fascinating a man."
Lord Randolph gave a start; even little used as he was to solve enigmas, he saw something was meant, and the look convinced him, for himself alone. By a little finesse he silenced the clamorous, and turned their thoughts into another channel, and thus the after dinner passed.
"Come, now," said Lord Randolph, as he and Dalby sat together in the former's dressing-room, smoking a cigar, after every one else had retired for the night, "tell me what you meant after dinner, about Tremenhere. I confess that man, at home and abroad, has sorely puzzled me."