“Why not?”
“Miss Lindsay is going to town by it.”
“So much the better, my dear boy; so much the better. You are not jealous of me now, are you?”
“Look here, Trefusis. I don’t know and I don’t ask what there has been between you and Miss Lindsay, but your engagement has quite upset her, and she is running away to London in consequence. If she hears that you are going by the same train she will wait until to-morrow, and I believe the delay would be very disagreeable. Will you inflict that additional pain upon her?”
Trefusis, evidently concerned, looking doubtfully at Erskine, and pondered for a moment. “I think you are on a wrong scent about this,” he said. “My relations with Miss Lindsay were not of a sentimental kind. Have you said anything to her—on your own account, I mean?”
“I have spoken to her on both accounts, and I know from her own lips that I am right.”
Trefusis uttered a low whistle.
“It is not the first time I have had the evidence of my senses in the matter,” said Erskine significantly. “Pray think of it seriously, Trefusis. Forgive my telling you frankly that nothing but your own utter want of feeling could excuse you for the way in which you have acted towards her.”
Trefusis smiled. “Forgive me in turn for my inquisitiveness,” he said. “What does she say to your suit?”
Erskine hesitated, showing by his manner that he thought Trefusis had no right to ask the question. “She says nothing,” he answered.