She looked up at him for one dazzling moment, and in that moment read the half-discovered secret of her own heart.
"I—I—love you already," she answered very simply; and then she felt herself being drawn, close, close to his side.
Was it minutes or hours later that she heard a sharp voice calling her name.
"Dulcie, Dulcie, where are you? Is your luggage ready? Have you had your breakfast? Be quick. Oh——"
Mr. Carlyon stepped forward, smiling.
"Congratulate me, Mrs. Meredith. Your niece has done me the honour to promise to be my wife. Would it be possible under the circumstances for her to remain with you at Mentone? I know Miss Martin favours that plan."
Mrs. Meredith was woman of the world enough to know when she was beaten; and, after all, was it not better to have such a man as her niece's husband than as a mere acquaintance? Besides, her hopes of securing him for a son-in-law had materially diminished during the past eight-and-forty hours.
"Dear me!" she exclaimed, "how very interesting and romantic! Dulcie, my dear, I congratulate you. Yes, certainly, you shall remain with us. I will go and speak to Mary about it. I am sure she will be pleased. Dear me—how things do turn out!"