Lois could not conceive why there should be such a tender sorrow in Captain Desfrayne’s eyes, such a pathetic ring in his voice, such an echo of grief and despair in his words. With an eager unrest, she waited for the next words, which should explain the reason of the young man’s inability to profit by the clauses in the old man’s will. But, instead of the tender tones of his voice, the suave, well-bred accents of Lady Quaintree sounded in her ears. With a great start, she turned and faced her ladyship; Paul Desfrayne did the same.
“My dearest pet, you really ought not to linger here in the night air,” said my lady. “I fancy Mrs. Dormer has been wondering where you have vanished to. Really, however, I am not surprised, the beauty of the night has tempted you to breathe its freshness and fragrance; it is so close and sultry within. Give me your arm, my love; I will take just one turn, and then we will go in and let Captain Desfrayne and Mrs. Dormer have a little music.”
“Allow me, madam,” said the young man, offering his arm.
Lady Quaintree passed her hand lightly through the proffered support, and, thus escorted, promenaded to and fro for about five minutes; Lois, on her left, attending her. Her ladyship was in charming spirits, and to any less preoccupied companions would have been most amusing.
The lively nothings she rattled off fell on dull and indifferent ears, however, and she could extract little beyond abstracted monosyllables from Captain Desfrayne, and an occasional languid smile or a half-absent “yes” or “no” from Miss Turquand.
“Would it be of any use offering you shelter for the night, Captain Desfrayne?” she asked, with a winning smile. “My dear young friend has appointed me viceroy over her house for the present. We shall be delighted to show you as much hospitality as our means will admit.”
“You are very kind, and I am already indebted to you for the goodness and consideration which you have this day shown me,” answered Paul Desfrayne. “But I really must return to my quarters to-night.”
“It will be a long and lonely ride,” objected Lady Quaintree. “Can we order one of the carriages for your service?”
“No, thanks. I should greatly prefer riding.”
“Do you need a groom, or a guide of any kind?”