"To tell the truth I have hardly got accustomed to it myself!" and she laughed.
"I was always so puzzled—I may say dumbfounded. You were so utterly different to Pussy and Dominga. Dom appalled me."
"Did she?—and now," looking at him with a mischievous smile, she added, "you are connected with her—and I am not!"
"Yes; and do you know, she is quite a success!—has swept the old Lord straight off his legs, and my uncle, Sir Horace, is actually enslaved! I say," he added, leaning towards her, and lowering his voice mysteriously—"they don't know."
"No? I used to be dreadfully prejudiced; now I am not. I agree with Mr. Salwey that a slight mixture of Eastern blood is not a disadvantage."
"Salwey! By the way, that reminds me, I saw the death of his father in this evening's paper."
"Really!" she exclaimed, and her colour deepened. After a pause she added, "It must have been rather sudden."
"I cannot say—I am sure," he rejoined indifferently. "I believe it is a fine property, and I am glad poor old Salwey will get his innings at last. It will make a great difference to him. What do you think?"
"Yes," drawing a long breath, "and it will make a great difference to me!"
"Why," he asked, "should it affect you?"