A sense of mischief was already alive in her. Defrauded in her higher expectations, she cared nothing for that conditional promise of patronage, except that it humiliated even her to be thought worthy of it. She had the wit and the gifts, if she chose to exercise them, to prevail in that direction without any help from outsiders. Feeling rather at bay, in the midst of this group of self-interested plotters, she was driven at last to abandon her position in a revel of retaliation on them all. Only how could she manage it—how? Let her think.
“You’re a great gentleman, I know,” she said suddenly; “but, where love’s concerned, even princes have to take their place among the ranks. Have you never fear of a rival?”
He gazed at her sombrely some moments, without speaking.
“Do you know of any?” he asked at length.
“I know of a coming meeting,” she said.
“With whom?”
“Kit’s his name. I’ve learnt no more.”
“How did you learn that?”
“Never mind how. I’ve not been in her company these weeks for nothing.”
“And when and where is this meeting to take place?”