"Only fancy! How immensely funny!" drawled Miss Calderwood.
To Helen there had been nothing specially amusing in the acquaintance, so she closed her lips firmly and held her peace.
"Why—why—I've been talking to you about him for the last hour, and you never told me this!" cried Mr. Redmond, eyeing her with an air of angry suspicion. "Eh, what?"
"You mentioned no name," faltered the young lady, feeling that verily this quibbling with the truth was as bad as any downright lie; but confronted by three curious faces, with the eyes of Barry—of Gilbert Lisle's uncle—and Gilbert Lisle's betrothed, fixed imperatively on hers—was she to appease their greedy curiosity and boldly confess the painful reason of her silence? was she to proclaim the humiliating fact that they were all staring at the girl who had been jilted by that honourable gentleman?
"Mentioned no name—neither I did! And how were you to know? Eh, what? Well, and what did you think of my nephew?" inquired the loquacious old relative.
At this point-blank query Miss Calderwood flashed a satirical look at Miss Denis, as much as to say, "What a silly unnecessary question!" But Helen met her eyes with proud steadiness.
"I think most people liked Mr. Lisle," she answered with well-assumed carelessness.
"And how long was he at the Andamans?" continued Mr. Redmond.
"About six months."
"Six months! And what was he doing there all that time? Any little entanglement—eh?" rather anxiously.