Worthing disposed his cheerful face to an expression of concern, and said, "Dear, dear!" in a tone of deep sympathy. But it was plain that he did not quite understand why his friend should be so upset.
"I never expected anything of the sort," said Grafton. "He ought to have come to me first; or at least she ought to have asked my permission before announcing that she'd engaged herself to him. I suppose she's told everybody up there. I'm going to have her home."
"She's very young," said Worthing tentatively.
"I wouldn't have minded that if he had been the right sort of fellow. How can I let a girl of mine marry a Frenchman, Worthing?"
Lunch was announced at that moment. Worthing took Grafton up to his room to wash his hands, and he expressed his disturbance of mind and the reasons for it still further until they came downstairs again, without Worthing saying much in reply, or indeed being given an opportunity of doing so. It was not until they were seated at lunch and the maid had left the room that Worthing spoke to any purpose.
"Well, of course, you'd rather she married an Englishman," he said. "And I suppose it's a bit of a shock to you to find that she wants to marry anybody, as young as she is. But do you know anything against this chap? He isn't a wrong 'un, is he? You rather talk as if he were. But you had him down here to stay. You let him be just as friendly with the girls as anybody else."
He spoke with some decision, as if he had offered enough sympathy with a vague grievance, and wanted it specified if he was to help or advise as to a course to be taken. It was what Caroline had been trying to get at, and had not been able to.
"Can't you understand?" asked Grafton, also with more decision in his speech than he had used before. "You don't go abroad much, I know. But I suppose you've read a few French novels."
Worthing looked genuinely puzzled. "I can't say I have," he said. "Jorrocks is more in my line. But what are you driving at?"
"Don't you know how men in France are brought up to look at women? They don't marry like we do, and they don't lead the same lives after they're married. At least men of Lassigny's sort don't."