But at dinner that night they were thrown once more into perplexity. Mr. Fane-Herbert was away in the North, and was not expected home until Saturday afternoon, when he would bring Mr. Ordith with him.
“I believe Mr. Ordith is a wonderful dancer,” Mrs. Fane-Herbert said.
“From all accounts,” Hugh replied, “he must be wonderful at everything.”
“My dear Hugh, you speak as if you disliked him already, without ever having seen him.”
“I don’t dislike him, but I can’t see what he has to do with our affairs.”
“Our affairs?”
“Margaret’s going to China. It was all fixed up before Ordith came on the scene.”
Mrs. Fane-Herbert smiled. This was a chance better than she had hoped for. “Now,” she said, “shall I show you how wrong you are? I had a letter from father this afternoon, and, so far as I can judge, for he is not at all definite, he has been thinking it all over, and has come to the conclusion——”
“That I am to go after all, mother?” Margaret interrupted. “Do say I am to go!”
“Well, dear, I don’t want you to be disappointed again, but I must say that father seems to incline more towards taking you.... So you see, Hugh, how little Mr. Ordith had to do with the matter. It is very foolish to make rash judgments.”