The captain, as he entered, had passed the quartet on the sofa and had stroked his mustache to hide the evil, malicious smile which crossed his face.
Then he went up to Lady Lackland, and in his soft tones laid himself out to please her.
He praised in a delicate, well-bred way the beauty and grace of Ethel, the cleverness and horsemanship of Lord Fitz, and when her ladyship, who had been rather suspicious of him at first, was beginning to think him rather nice and distinguished, he glided from Fitz and Ethel to Violet and Leicester.
"Miss Mildmay," he said, after a sigh, "is, as you are, my lady, no doubt aware, the daughter of my dearest friend! Poor John! he consigned his darling to my care, and I am sorely tempted to take upon myself the post of guardian in the literal sense of the word. I would pray for no other task than that of watching over and protecting her. She is all soul, my dear countess, all soul, as simple, as innocent, as single minded as a child. Just the nature to be misled by seeming heroism, to fancy all sorts of wild, improbable things, to be deceived in matters of the heart. Look at her now. Have you ever seen a more absorbed and trustful face than that turned up to Mr. Leicester Dodson?"
Lady Lackland did not require to be directed. All the while the captain had been running on in his smooth way she had been watching the pair and Ethel and Bertie beside them, and she felt as if she could have dragged Mr. Fairfax away and thrust Leicester in his place while she pushed Fitz beside the ingenuous Violet.
"Mr. Leicester, too, if he will permit me to say so," continued the captain, "is one of those disinterested men who follow the bent of their passing fancy without thought or reflection. Immensely rich, my dear madam, immensely! He should marry rank. Rank is what he wants—so does Violet. It would never do for Violet to marry one of her own class—never! Poor John would rise from his grave to forbid it. Hundreds of times he has said to me 'Howard, my girl must be a countess!' Poor John!"
Lady Lackland sighed sympathetically, and her voice was less cold than it had been hitherto toward the captain when she said:
"She is beautiful and well bred enough for any rank."
The captain bowed.
"Did I hear that Lord Fitz sang?" he said, softly. "If so, I wish we could induce him to sing a duet with Violet."