"Ah;—then he arranged it."
"Not exactly. Nobody could arrange anything for Chiltern,—nor, as far as that goes, for Miss Effingham. They arranged it themselves, I fancy."
"You had asked her?"
"Yes;—twice. And she had refused him more than twice. I have nothing for which to blame her; but yet I had thought,—I had thought—"
"She is a jilt then?"
"No;—I will not let you say that of her. She is no jilt. But I think she has been strangely ignorant of her own mind. What is the use of talking of it, Madame Goesler?"
"None;—only sometimes it is better to speak a word, than to keep one's sorrow to oneself."
"So it is;—and there is not one in the world to whom I can speak such a word, except yourself. Is not that odd? I have sisters, but they have never heard of Miss Effingham, and would be quite indifferent."
"Perhaps they have some other favourites."
"Ah;—well. That does not matter, And my best friend here in London is Lord Chiltern's own sister."