“Dont know, I’m sure. We didnt talk about mathematics and classics.”
“Well; but—do you like him?”
“I tell you I dont care a damn about him one way or the other,” said Marmaduke, rising and walking away to the window. His cousins, astonished, exchanged looks.
“Very well, Marmaduke,” said Marian softly, after a pause: “I wont tease you any more. Dont be angry.”
“You havnt teased me,” said he, coming back somewhat shamefacedly from the window. “I feel savage to-day, though there is no reason why I should not be as jolly as a shrimp. Perhaps Nelly will play some Chopin, just to soothe me. I should like to hear that polonaise again.”
“I should enjoy nothing better than taking you at your word,” said Elinor. “But I heard Mr. Lind come in, a moment ago; and he is not so fond of Chopin as you and I.”
Mr. Lind entered whilst she was speaking. He was a dignified gentleman, with delicately chiselled features and portly figure. His silky light brown hair curled naturally about his brow and set it off imposingly. His hands were white and small, with tapering fingers, and small thumbs.
“How do you do, sir?” said Marmaduke, blushing.
“Thank you: I am better than I have been.”
Marmaduke murmured congratulations, and looked at his watch as if pressed for time. “I must be off now,” he said, rising. “I was just going when you came in.”