“Yes,” he said, not in a particularly low tone, but in his softest manner—“yes, I am glad to see that your health has not suffered in London. I trust you have been happy?”
Una looked up with a faint flush on her face.
“I have been—I am very, very happy,” she said, and Jack’s face flushed too with the delight at the accent on “I am.”
“That is right,” said Stephen, with the air of an old, old friend, “and I hope my mother has found some amusement for you—that she has shown you something of the great world.”
“Yes,” said Una, and she glanced at Mrs. Davenant, from whose pale face all traces of the calm serenity which had reigned there during the earlier part of the evening had entirely fled—“yes, I have been very gay—is not that the word? I have been to a ball, and to a picnic, and have seen all the sights.”
“And where was the ball?”
“At Lady Earlsley’s,” said Una.
Stephen opened his eyes and smiled.
“My dear Miss Rolfe, you have penetrated the most exclusive of social rings! Lady Earlsley’s! Come, that is very satisfactory; and Jack—Jack is my cousin—well, very nearly cousin, you know, I hope he has made himself useful and agreeable?”
Una glanced shyly and gravely at Jack—a glance that told everything, even if Stephen had not seen her in Jack’s arms.