"The bait is sufficient," she said laughing, though baffled, "they will all follow like a lot of hungry fish."
"Gad! Trevalyon," cried Lord Rivers jokingly, "she must be old! enough to come out."
"I am relieved that Trevalyon is going to make a clean breast of it; English society is degenerating," said Lord Ponsonby in severe tones to Lady Esmondet.
"Trevalyon looks as he did in the east," said Chancer to Vaura, "when one of the blacks cut poor Cecil Vaughn's throat when he lay dying, then robbed him; Trevalyon caught him in the act as he rode up, Cecil haying asked his orderly to bring him to receive his dying messages."
"No need to tell me the result Capt. Chancer. I read Sir Lionel's expression as you do, treachery lived and was extinct."
"But dear Miss Vernon, who are Cecil and the black this time? I know there has been some by-play, to which I have been oblivious, but no man would blame me."
"Not while I have heard for you," giving him a bewildering smile.
"Which means you have had no ear for me," he said, regretfully seating himself beside her on a tete-a-tete sofa, for they have now reached the salons.
"Not so, cher grumbler, for I have two ears, and while Sir Lionel's rather mournful notes entered first; your pretty nothings were blown in upon them so quickly, by some more mirthful sprite as to send his to my memory, while yours are in my ear still."
"There is so sweet a bewitchment in your healing touch, as to make a man not regret his wound."