“I declare not only that I have never seen, but never so much as suspected it. And have you seen it, Mrs. Morris?”
“Ah! Sir William, this is our woman's privilege, though really in the present case it did not put the faculty to any severe test.”
For a moment or two he made no reply, and then said, “And Charles—has Charles remarked it?”
“I really cannot tell you. His manner is usually so easy and indifferent about everything, that, whether it comes of not seeing or never caring, I cannot pretend to guess.”
“I asked the young man here, because he was with Lord Agincourt,” began Sir William, who was most eager to offer some apologies to himself for any supposed indiscretion. “Agincourt's guardian, Lord Sommerville, and myself have had some unpleasant passages in life, and I wished to show the boy that towards him I bore no memory of the ills I received from his uncle. In fact, I was doubly civil and attentive on that account; but as for Mr. Layton,—isn't that his name?”
“Yes; Alfred Layton.”
“Layton came as the lad's tutor,—nothing more. He appeared a pleasing, inoffensive, well-bred young fellow. But surely, Mrs. Morris, my ward has given him no encouragement?”
“Encouragement is a strong word, Sir William,” said she, smiling archly; “I believe it is only widows who give encouragement?”
“Well, well,” said he, hurriedly, and not caring to smile, for he was in no jesting mood, “has she appeared to understand his attentions?”
“Even young ladies make no mistakes on that score,” said she, in the same bantering tone.