"I've done my best, my dear, though I admit I'd like you for my very own daughter-in-law."
Lady Constance blushed scarlet. This was carrying the war into the enemy's camp with a vengeance.
"'Nobody axed me, sir, she said,'" she sang gaily.
"Ah, but whose fault is that?" asked Lord Barminster, pleased that she had not refused to discuss the question.
"Please, Uncle Philip," she said, with a sudden quiver in her voice, "I'd rather not talk about it--if you don't mind."
"Quite right, my dear," replied Lord Barminster, patting her hand reassuringly.
For a few minutes there was silence. His lordship drank his coffee, while his companion stared dreamily through the window at the magnificent view of park and woods. The old man was the first to speak.
"We shall miss Lord Standon," he said, with a meaning glance at her.
Lady Constance looked up with a start; then, as she realised the significance of this simple statement, she smiled. She knew she could trust her uncle not to betray her woman's secret; and, though she had no scruple in using Lord Standon as a means to spur on Adrien, she would not allow the old man to be worried unnecessarily by doubts of her fidelity to his beloved son.
"Yes," she answered, quietly. "But he only came down for the race; and I daresay he was anxious to rejoin his fiancée."