“So it appears. Carry back those tidings. Won’t they dry the Marchesa’s tears?”
Norah looked at him with a smile. “Well, it is pretty clever of her, isn’t it?” she said. “I didn’t think she’d got along as quickly as that!” Norah’s voice was full of an honest and undisguised admiration.
“It’s a little unreasonable of her to cry under the circumstances. I’m not crying, Lady Norah.”
“I expect you’re rather disgusted, though, aren’t you?” she suggested.
“I’m a little vexed at having to surrender—for the moment—a principle which I’ve held dear—at having to give my enemies an occasion for mockery. But I must bow to my friends’ wishes. I can’t lose them under such painful circumstances. No, I must yield, Lady Norah.”
“You’re going to give up the path?” she cried, not sure whether she were pleased or not with his determination.
“Dear me, no! I’m going to law about it.”
Open dismay was betrayed in her exclamation: “Oh, but what will Mr Stillford say to that?”
Lynborough laughed. Norah saw her mistake—but she made no attempt to remedy it. She took up another line of tactics. “It would all come right if only you knew one another! She’s the most wonderful woman in the world, Lord Lynborough. And you——”
“Well, what of me?” he asked in deceitful gravity.