“You honor me.”
“Did you tell her so?”
“I did not, Miss Stuart. What might have happened had she lived I cannot say, but I did not, last evening, say any word to Miss Carrington of my aspiration to her hand.”
“Did you say anything that could have been taken as a hint that some time, say, in the near future, you might express such an aspiration?”
“I may have done so.”
“Thank you, Count Charlier. I had perhaps no right to ask, but you have answered my rather impertinent questions straightforwardly, and I thank you.”
Pauline rose, as if to end the interview. In the doorway appeared Anita. “Pauline,” she said, “I wish you would come back and listen to Mrs. Frothingham’s story. It seems to me of decided importance.”
“You have something to tell me?” asked Pauline, returning to the library and looking at the unwelcome neighbor with patient tolerance.
“Yes, Miss Stuart. Now, it may be nothing,—nothing, I mean, of consequence, that is, you may not think so, but I——”
“Suppose you let me hear it and judge for myself.”